In this beautifully crafted and uplifting novel, the author of the acclaimed Spinning Forward welcomes readers back to the lush Florida island of Cedar Key, where the vibrant shades of hibiscus and azaleas are the perfect backdrop to a colorful, quirky community. . . In the four years since Monica Brooks moved to Cedar Key, she's found a home, a husband, and now a business to love. Taking over her mother's bustling knitting shop is a welcome challenge, but Monica's exciting plans are waylaid by unexpected news. Her husband's ex-wife has been deemed an unfit mother, and custody of their eight-year-old daughter, Clarissa, is to be transferred to Adam. Going straight from honeymoon to motherhood--especially when she's unsure she wants children--leaves the normally even-keeled Monica doubting herself at every turn. Yet in a place like Cedar Key, nobody goes it alone. With help from friends and relatives, Monica, Clarissa, and Adam begin to forge a close-knit family of their own--one that will need to be strong enough to withstand all the surprises set to unravel. . . Praise for Spinning Forward "Poignant, absorbing, humorous. . .a debut that tugs at the heart." --Sophia Nash, author of A Dangerous Beauty "Captures the essence of what often lies in each of our hearts. Don't miss it!" --J.L. Miles, author of Cold Rock River "Like a lazy island summer. . .a story of secrets and loss, friendship and recovery, and rediscovered love." --Laura Castoro, author of Love on the Line
Release date:
November 1, 2010
Publisher:
Kensington Books
Print pages:
337
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New York Times bestselling author Terri DuLong turns a new page in breezy Ormond Beach, Florida, where a woman looking for a fresh start discovers her dreams coming true in ways she never imagined…
Chloe Radcliffe was ready to shake the dust of Cedar Key off her feet and sink her toes into the warm sands of Ormond Beach with her soon-to-be husband. But when tragedy struck, she found herself alone, unraveled—and unsure where she belonged…
A series of vivid dreams of a Victorian house with a beautiful fishpond convince Chloe to take a leap of faith and rent a condo in Ormond Beach. There, she makes fast friends with a group of knitters and the owner of a tea shop, who also happens to have a house nearly identical to the one in Chloe’s dreams—and she’s willing to rent her the property. Just as Chloe begins casting on her grand plans for the home, her tangled past comes back to haunt her—but her dreams and newfound friends just might point her toward the love she’s been missing all along…
INCLUDES AN ORIGINAL KNITTING PATTERN!
Chapter 1
Sitting on Aunt Maude’s porch watching the April sun brighten the sky wasn’t where I thought I’d be ten months ago. Having experienced two major losses, I found myself still in the small fishing village of Cedar Key . . . and like the boats in the gulf, I was drifting with no sense of purpose or direction.
Life had proved to me once again that it can change in the blink of an eye. I certainly found that out four years ago when my husband, Parker, left me for a trophy wife. But eventually I pulled myself together and made my way from Savannah to this small town on the west coast of Florida. Straight to the shelter and love of my aunt. At the time, I’d been estranged from my sister, Grace, for many years, but eventually Grace and I renewed our bond and now we were closer than we’d ever been.
The ring tone on my cell phone began playing and I knew without looking at the caller ID that it was Gabe’s daughter, Isabelle—she was the only person who called me before eight in the morning.
“Hey,” I said. “How’re you doing?”
A deep sigh came across the line. “Okay. I just had another battle with Haley about going to school, but I managed to get her out the door. How about you?”
“Yeah, okay here too. Just finishing up my coffee and then I’ll be heading to the yarn shop to help out.”
I wasn’t even gainfully employed anymore because I’d given up my partnership with Dora in the local yarn shop when I thought I was relocating to the east coast of Florida . . . with Gabe. And now Gabe was gone.
Another sigh came across the line. “It’s funny. I didn’t see Dad all that much, but I knew he was there. Do you know what I mean?”
“I do. Sometimes I think we just take it for granted that those we love will always be with us.”
Losing Gabe in the blink of an eye was a heartbreaking reminder of the fact that life was indeed fragile. We had made great plans for a bright new future together. When he arrived in Cedar Key to spend the winter months, he had signed up to take some men’s knitting classes at the yarn shop. I knew immediately that I liked him, and the feeling was mutual. Eight months later we’d made a commitment to relocate together to Ormond Beach on the east coast. Gabe was also an expert knitter and we had put a deposit on a lovely home just outside the city limits, where he would tend to the alpacas we’d raise and we’d both run a yarn shop downtown. But that wasn’t to be.
“Exactly,” Isabelle said. “And poor Dad didn’t even make it to Philly to sell his condo. This might sound selfish, but if I had to lose him, I’m glad it happened right here at my house.” I heard a sniffle across the phone line. “At least I was with him at the end.”
We both were. Gabe had wanted to make a stop outside Atlanta on our way to Philly to visit his daughter and granddaughter. But on the third day of our stay, sitting on Isabelle’s patio after dinner, a grimace covered Gabe’s face, he clutched his chest and he was gone. I jumped up to perform CPR while Isabelle called 911 but by the time the paramedics arrived, it was too late. A massive coronary had claimed his life. Just like that.
“No, it’s not selfish at all,” I said. “I’m glad I was with him too.”
“We’ve both had a time of it, haven’t we? I lose Dad and then two months later, Roger decides he doesn’t love me anymore.”
It was actually the breakup of Isabelle’s marriage that had brought the two of us closer. While she had been civil to me when we’d first met the previous June, she had been a bit cool. I remembered how she had emphatically informed me that she wasn’t called Izzy or Belle. “It’s Isabelle,” she’d said.
I chalked it up to father-daughter jealousy on her part. Although she wasn’t at all close to her mother, who had taken off to Oregon years ago after her divorce from Gabe, I had a feeling that Isabelle didn’t want another woman in her father’s life. But when her husband up and left her, I was the first person she called. Sobbing on the phone, she related that she was experiencing the same thing that had happened to me—her husband had fallen out of love with her. Common troubles have a way of uniting women.
“Any further word on the divorce settlement?” I asked.
“Yes, that’s why I’m calling. It’s been decided that I will get the house. At least until Haley is eighteen, so that gives me five years to figure out what I’m doing. And when we sell it, we each get half.”
“That sounds fair enough.”
“Yeah, except that Haley is so unhappy here. Between the loss of her grandfather and her father leaving, it’s been a difficult time for her. And to make matters worse, things at school aren’t going well either.”
I knew Haley was a bright girl and a good student, so I was surprised to hear this. “What’s going on?”
“Well,” she said, and I heard hesitation in her tone. “In the ten months since you’ve seen her, Haley has really packed on some pounds. Unfortunately, I think she’s taking comfort in food. And you know how cruel kids can be. Especially thirteen-year-old girls.”
“Oh, no.” I didn’t know Haley well, but when I met her for the first time we immediately clicked. Unlike her mother, she didn’t display any frostiness toward me. Quite the opposite. She seemed to genuinely like me and I liked her. “What a shame. Gosh, I know kids have always been mean but today, from what I hear, they seem to have taken it to a new level.”
“You have no idea. Hey, how’s Basil doing?”
I smiled and glanced down at the twenty-pound dog sleeping inches from my foot. I guess you could say that Basil was my legacy from Gabe. I had gotten to know the dog well during the months that Gabe was on the island, and we had taken an instant liking to each other. When Gabe passed away, there was the question of what to do with Basil. Although I know that Haley would have loved to keep him, Isabelle had insisted that wasn’t possible and even hinted that perhaps he should go to the pound. That was when I stepped in and offered to give Basil a home. I think gratefulness has a lot to do with loyalty, because Basil hasn’t left my side since we flew back to Florida from Atlanta. Basil in his carrier, in the cabin with me, of course.
“Oh, he’s great. I’m so glad I took him. He’s a great little dog and sure keeps me company.”
“That’s good. Well, give him a pat from Haley and me. Any decision yet on what you’re doing? Do you think you’ll stay in Cedar Key?”
“I honestly don’t know, Isabelle. I’m no closer to a decision now than I was after Aunt Maude died two months ago. And Grace has been hinting that she and Lucas might want to move to Paris permanently.”
My sister had married a wonderful fellow four years before. Lucas owned the book café in town, but he was originally from Paris, and it was beginning to sound like he wanted to bring his family back to his roots in France. Which included my sister and three-year-old niece, Solange.
“Oh, gee, and where would that leave you? Would you put your aunt’s house up for sale?”
“I just don’t know. I think Grace is trying to go easy with me right now. She doesn’t want to add any more pressure, but it’s not fair of me to hold them back if that’s what they want. Besides, in this economy, property just isn’t selling on the island. My building downtown has been on the market for ten months.”
“Yeah, true. Well, listen, Chloe, I need to get going here. You take care and keep in touch.”
“Will do, and give Haley a hug from me.”
I disconnected and looked down at Basil, who had his head on his paws but was looking up at me with his sweet brown eyes.
“Well, fellow, time for us to get moving too.”
He jumped up, tail wagging, ready for whatever I suggested.
I headed into the house for a shower and breakfast before we opened the yarn shop at ten.
Dora and I took turns opening the shop, and today she wouldn’t be in till noon.
“Come on, Basil. Time for coffee first,” I said, unclipping his leash and heading to the coffeemaker.
Dora had her own dog, Oliver, who was now elderly and didn’t come to the shop with her anymore, so she was more than happy to have Basil with us during work hours. He was a good boy and enjoyed greeting customers, and I think he was a hit with them as well.
Very well mannered, he had just turned two years old. Gabe had gotten him as a puppy from a rescue group. His ancestry was of unknown origin, but he strongly resembled a cross between a Scottish terrier and a poodle. When designer dogs became popular and Gabe was questioned on Basil’s breed, he’d jokingly refer to him as a Scottiepoo.
I had just poured the water into the coffeemaker when the door chimes tinkled and I turned around to see Shelby Sullivan enter the shop.
“Hey, Shelby. Just in time for coffee. It’ll be ready shortly.”
“Great. I found a nice pattern to make Orli a sweater, so I need to get some yarn.”
Shelby Sullivan was a best-selling romance author, born and raised on Cedar Key, and an addicted knitter, especially when she was between novels.
“How’re Josie and Orli doing? I imagine they appreciate the sweaters to keep them warm in the Boston area.”
Shelby laughed as she fingered some yummy lavender alpaca yarn. “They’re doing great and they seem to have survived their first winter up there and all the snow. Although I’m told it’s not unusual to get some even in April.”
Shelby’s daughter, Josie Sullivan Cooper, had married the love of her life and the father of her daughter, Orli, the previous October. The wedding had been the event of the year on the island and thanks to Shelby’s expert guidance, it had been on par with many celebrity weddings. Josie’s husband, Grant, was an attorney in Boston and the three of them resided on the North Shore of the city.
“I saw on the national weather that the temps are still pretty chilly up there,” I said, handing her a mug of coffee. “I’m sure it’s quite a change from the tropical climate they’re used to.”
Shelby nodded. “Thanks. Yeah, but they both seem to love being in Boston and that’s what matters.”
I smiled as I recalled the control freak that Shelby used to be. But a scare with uterine cancer the year before had put life in perspective for her. She truly did seem to be less stressed and more understanding of Josie, allowing their mother-daughter relationship to strengthen.
“How about you?” she asked. “How are you doing?”
I let out a sigh. “I’m doing okay. As well as can be expected, I guess, but I’m beginning to feel like my life is on hold. In limbo.”
“Two major losses in your life within eight months will certainly do that. When the time is right, you’ll know which direction to take.”
“I hope so,” I said and took a sip of coffee. “I feel fortunate that we had Aunt Maude these extra years. We knew her heart was bad. The house is just so empty without her around.”
Shelby placed eight skeins of alpaca on the counter and patted my arm. “I’m sure it is. Maybe you should still consider going over to Ormond Beach. You know . . . something different. New beginnings and all that.”
“It just wouldn’t be the same without Gabe. All of our plans are gone.”
“Yes, they are, but that’s part of life. It constantly changes whether we want it to or not. Believe me, I found that out last year. But, Chloe, that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Life is always full of surprises, and some of them can be quite wonderful. If we pay attention. Maybe you should go over there for a visit. Allow yourself to chill out and renew your energy.”
“Alone? You mean go to Ormond Beach alone?”
Shelby laughed. “First of all, you wouldn’t be alone. You’d have Basil with you. But yeah, find a nice place to stay for a while. No pressure. No commitments. I don’t think women do this nearly enough. It’s good to be alone sometimes. It allows us to reconnect with ourselves. Especially during times of change or confusion.”
“Hmm,” I said, slowly beginning to warm to the idea. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe a change is what I need for a while.”
“Give it some thought, Chloe. We just never know what’s around that next corner,” she said, passing me her credit card to pay for her purchase.
When I passed the phone to Adam, I had no idea that the caller’s information would force me to question my insecurity on motherhood. Adam and I had only been married for six months. Rather than focusing on starting a family, my time and energy had been directed toward purchasing my mother’s yarn shop, Spinning Forward. I was still a new bride, for goodness sake, so being a mom was the last thing on my mind. “It’s for you,” I said, passing the telephone across the breakfast table while I continued to nibble on toast and update my to-do list.
“Yes, this is Adam Brooks,” I heard my husband say. While silence filled our kitchen it occurred to me that perhaps I should apply for a small business loan. Sure, my mother had basically passed the yarn shop over to me before she left for Paris with Noah, but I knew that I wanted to be the official proprietor of the business I’d come to love. My mother was thrilled that my desire for ownership would keep what she worked at so hard in the family. And the week before she was to leave, we met with an attorney to sign the documents that would transfer Spinning Forward from Sydney Webster to Monica Brooks. My mother would only accept a minimal amount of money to make the transaction legal. Revenue from sales would pay the monthly lease and overhead, and continue the small salary of Aunt Dora. I hoped that even without some of the special services my mother offered, I’d keep Spinning Forward the success it had been for over three years. A bank loan would help to make that happen.
My attention reverted to the one-sided phone call.
“She what?” Adam said in a tone he used when he was upset.
I glanced up as my husband pushed his chair away from the table and began pacing around our kitchen. Apparently this wasn’t a telemarketer call, as I had thought.
“Well, where is she now?” he questioned.
Anger was being replaced by concern. His brow furrowed as he raked his hand through sandy-colored hair, and I considered him the sexiest and most attractive man I’d known.
“Yes, yes, I understand that. But you have to understand that I have a job and will have to make arrangements. The soonest I could be up there would be Monday.”
Up there? Where? All of a sudden it dawned on me what this phone call was about. Adam’s daughter, Clarissa, was now eight years old and lived with his ex, Carrie Sue, in some godforsaken town in Georgia.
Adam reached for paper and a pen from the counter drawer. “Yes, go ahead,” he said and began jotting down information. “Okay. I need some time to make arrangements. I’ll call you back tomorrow.”
Placing the phone on the table, he blew out a deep breath before sitting down across from me. “We need to talk.”
Jumping up to grab the coffeepot, I refilled our cups. When a crisis happens, I’m one of those people who functions better while keeping busy.
Rejoining him at the table, it was my turn to exhale loudly. “Okay. What’s up?”
“Carrie Sue was in an automobile accident the other night. She’s in the hospital. No major injuries, but Carrie Sue and the driver were both drunk.”
“My God, was Clarissa with her?”
“No, it’s worse. Carrie Sue left her alone at the condo to go out drinking with her girlfriends. When the accident happened, she had to tell the authorities her eight-year-old daughter was alone at home. Social services got involved. That’s who that was on the telephone.” Adam began fiddling with the spoon on the table and shook his head. “Clarissa is in a temporary foster home. The woman on the phone said it’s highly unlikely that Carrie Sue will retain custody of her. There’s an emergency hearing next week and I have to be there.”
Thoughts were swirling in my head. I’d only met Carrie Sue once. The summer that Adam and I began dating, we drove up to Georgia together to bring Clarissa Jo to Cedar Key for their annual month-long visit. Meeting Carrie Sue once had been quite enough. She came from a wealthy family that disowned her the moment she’d married Adam. Blond, beautiful, and bitchy, Carrie Sue had always enjoyed tipping her wrist a little too often with whatever alcoholic liquid appealed to her at the moment. Her drinking problem had contributed to the breakup of their marriage. I knew that Adam had attempted to get custody of his daughter and had been devastated when the judge ruled in favor of the mother, leaving Adam with only every-other-weekend visitation. This was compounded by the fact that two years ago, with an economy in tatters, the school in Georgia had been forced to let him go. Faced with hefty support payments, in addition to being responsible for his daughter’s medical insurance, Adam had felt fortunate to be offered a teaching position in his home town of Cedar Key, Florida.
“And so…all of this means what?” I asked, too stupid or too stubborn to understand what was coming next.
“It means I have to go to Georgia and be there for the hearing. I’ve been paying support for Clarissa Jo these past four years, and I’m her legal guardian.”
“Oh,” was all I could manage to say.
Adam reached across the table for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know. This certainly came out of the blue. Having Clarissa with us full-time will be very different, but I think we’ll manage.”
We had discussed children when we began dating, and while we didn’t say we’d never have any—we didn’t agree that we would, either. Not wanting to sound like the witch from Hansel and Gretel, I let out a deep breath, squeezing Adam’s hand in return. “Of course we will,” I said, sounding much braver than I felt. “Of course we’ll manage and everything will be fine.”
My husband nodded and then shook his head. “Christ, Monica, what a loser Carrie Sue is. I’m just grateful nothing happened to Clarissa Jo alone in that apartment.”
Scary news events flashed through my mind concerning children either left alone or abducted. Although I’d always felt horrible when I heard about these things, I certainly had never considered them from a parent’s point of view.
“Jesus,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I’ve got to get moving. Class starts in fifteen minutes.”
Jumping up from the table, he came around to pull me up next to him.
“It’ll be okay. I promise. We both need a little bit of time to digest this and we’ll discuss it tonight. How about dinner at the Island Room?” he whispered into my hair.
God, his arms felt good around my body. “No, I’d prefer dinner here. Quiet and private. I’ll make your favorite pasta dish.”
“It’s a deal. I love you, Monica. And things will work out.”
“They will,” I agreed, uncertain where any of us were headed.
After Adam left I put the breakfast dishes into the sudsy water to let them soak and prepared to start a load of wash—the whole time, thoughts of the phone call going through my head.
Pouring myself another mug of coffee I took it outside to the deck and curled up on the chaise lounge. Bushes of vivid red azaleas and yellow hibiscus rimmed the outer perimeter of the garden, creating a floral sanctuary.
I loved springtime on Cedar Key, when the air filled with all sorts of tropical fragrances. When I first came to the island to visit my mother and grandmother, it hadn’t been my intention to stay forever. I was a Yankee girl—not Southern born and Southern bred. By the time a year had passed, I knew that a place of birth doesn’t necessarily produce a feeling of home—because the small island off the west coast of Florida was what accomplished that for me.
At the time, I was between high-pressure jobs with top companies in Boston. On a whim, I applied for and was accepted to teach English at the University of Florida in Gainesville, which I did for a year. Adam hadn’t been the only one affected by the economy—due to budget cuts, I also lost my teaching position. By that time, my mother’s yarn shop on Cedar Key had become successful and I accepted her offer to handle the business Internet orders, which allowed me to slow down and literally smell the roses. Living in a small Southern town makes that easy to do.
Sitting at the computer at Spinning Forward, I glanced up one afternoon to find a tall, slim, sixtyish-looking woman waiting for me to answer a knitting question. By the time I became a teen, I’d lost interest in knitting, but seeing all the new fibers available since then had restored my love and addiction for this craft. With help from my mother and Aunt Dora, I’d learned the current knitting techniques.
But it wasn’t the woman that grabbed my attention—it was the handsome, sexy, younger man standing beside her. The poor guy looked out of place and bored surrounded by cubbyholes filled with alpaca, cashmere, and myriad other rainbow-colored yarn.
She introduced him as her son. “This here is my boy, Adam Brooks,” she told me with pride in her voice. “He teaches history to the middle school children right here on this island.”
Tall and good-looking with sandy-colored hair, his blue eyes caught mine as he shrugged his shoulders and smiled. I think that killer smile of his sealed my fate.
“Monica Webster,” I’d said, holding out my hand to him.
Adam had returned a few days later—without Mama—and invited me to dinner. As irritating as she can be, I’ve always been happy that Opal Brooks walked into the yarn shop that day with her son in tow.
The telephone ringing in the kitchen brought me out of my daydreaming.
“Hey, Monica,” I heard my best friend, Grace, say. “Are you still coming by the coffee shop to drop off those needles for me?”
My eyes flew to the clock on the wall. Damn, I’d forgotten all about my promise from the day before.
“Yeah, I’ll be there, but I’m not even dressed yet. So it probably won’t be till after lunch. I’m in the middle of doing laundry and not due into the yarn shop till three.”
“Okay. Not a problem. What’s up? You sound kind of pooky today.”
I blew out a deep breath. “I guess pooky would cover it. You’re not going to believe this…”
“Honey, try me. Living on this island, I’d believe just about anything.”
Despite my sour mood, I laughed. Grace had a way of doing that. Lightening up a difficult situation.
“Well, it seems like my little household of two might be increasing to three.”
“What! You’re pregnant?”
I let out a laugh. Maybe my statement needed clarification. “No, no. I’m not. Adam’s daughter, Clarissa Jo, is coming to live with us.”
“You mean, like permanently?”
“Yup.”
“I thought that high-bred ex-wife of his had custody.”
I proceeded to explain the car accident and social services.
“Hmm, sounds like you might be giving up the honeymoon for motherhood,” Grace said.
Ignoring her comment, I explained, “Adam had to leave right after he got the call. We’re going to discuss it more tonight, but he’ll be heading up there next week for a hearing.”
“Lord, it’s always something, isn’t it?”
Isn’t that just the truth? “I need to get moving here. I’ll be by the coffee shop before I head into work. Have a nice strong latte ready for me.”
I walked into Spinning Forward to find Aunt Dora unpacking a recent delivery of yarn.
Brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes, she looked up and smiled. “Hello, Monica. Thought I’d get this unpacked for you before I leave.”
Eudora Foster was my great-aunt and the sister of Sybile Bowden, my grandmother who had passed away three years before.
“Thanks,” I said, heading to the coffeepot.
“Any word from your mother?” she questioned.
“She called yesterday morning. After only one month living in Paris, I’d say she’s already a confirmed Francophile. She loves the apartment that she and Noah are renting in Montparnasse. Said she feels like a true Parisian—going out daily to shop at the market, the cheese shop, the butcher. I’m not sure we’ll ever get her back into a supermarket when they return home next year.”
Aunt Dora laughed and shook her head. “Oh, I had no doubt she’d fall in love with the fact she had a chance to actually live there, rather than just visit. What a great opportunity for Noah. . .
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