Out of The Blue

Chapter 2

Thea had been a transplant in our small town about ten years ago now, falling in love with Liam shortly thereafter, and while the two of us had never been close, we'd certainly been friendly. Hellos when we bumped into each other in town, the odd drink at town events, and considering I'd been her son's kindergarten teacher, there'd been a boatload of conversations between us when she picked him at the end of each day.

But Liam I'd known since I was young. He'd been four years older than me, sure, but most of the kids in town had stuck together. From the playground to the beach, it didn't matter who you were, you were welcome. He'd been smart, a total goofball, and was one of the handful of kids who'd stuck around town into adulthood when others had chosen to flee. We'd been friends. Less so in recent years as his life had become focused around Thea and Bowen, but friends nonetheless.

It had been a shock, to say the least, when I'd heard they'd died in a drunk driving accident, especially in our small town, but I'd known immediately I'd want to pay my respects.

So, standing near the back of the crowd in a black dress, I listened to the speeches, the prayers, and the memories. Watched as the pastor blessed both urns that sat near the top of the hill, near the cliffside and overlooking the ocean, knowing that soon enough those ashes would be scattered into the water below.

It was what they'd both wanted, though that would come once most of the crowd dispersed and only the families remained.

And half an hour later, the crowd did just that. Including me.

Not having driven, I made my way on foot along the shore, humming quietly. The waves rolling in against the sand were soft and rhythmic, and with each step I took towards what the locals considered out downtown, I felt my mood slowly start to lift. All because of this town. The affection I had for Neptune Bay was the reason I'd returned after college. There were no bright lights, skyscrapers, or traffic jams. Instead, it was a closely-knit town where, anywhere you went, you were never a few minutes away from the ocean. The town was a part of me—where I felt the most at peace.

Passing the marina and a few fancier beach houses located right on the water, it took me about twenty minutes to reach my family's store, pushing open the door to hear the all-too-familiar jingle of bells. A bright note in this drab and dreary day.

A mix between a general store and a bakery, Wilma's—named after my grandmother—had been in the family for seventy years. For years my mom had kept things running while my dad acted as a member of the local fire crew, but with her passing and my dad's early retirement and diagnosis a year prior, the business had been left to me—a former teacher with not much of a mind for business.

But I'd stepped up. How could I not?

This place was my family's legacy, and I didn't think I'd be able to live with myself if I'd told my father to sell. Or worse, had left it to wilt away.

So instead of teaching these days, I spent my time here, within the four walls of our quirky town staple located along the boardwalk. There were definitely worse ways to live than being surrounded by the delicious aromas of our homemade sweets and interacting with friendly-faced customers day in and day out.

Speaking of delicious aromas, before the door could even close behind me, I noticed June emerge through the swinging doors at the opposite end of the store that led to the kitchen, a fresh tray of lemon raspberry donuts in her hands.

They were our latest concoction, brought about by wanting to experiment with our offerings as well as increase our selection in time for the annual wave of tourists that visited every summer. A mixture of citrus and sweetness that, if the way we were selling out before noon each day was anything to go by, were an instant hit.