“That’s what my birth certificate says,” Holly said, shifting.
“What a shame you’re stranded here for the holidays,” Ginger said. “Where is your family home?”
“Phoenix, but I don’t have any family. I usually spend holidays with a couple of friends I met in foster care. They’re the closest thing to family I have. I was moved around a lot.” Holly bit her lip and shrugged. “But with my misbehaving car, that won’t be happening this year.”
Her grandmother swiftly extended her hand. “I’m Ginger Delavie, and I have a room for you at the Coral Cottage.”
Marina wondered if that was wise. They knew nothing about the younger woman besides what she said.
But then, Marina thought about her father’s history. Dennis Moore had been raised in foster care, too. He’d worked hard to put himself through the university to become a certified public accountant. She couldn’t judge Holly for that. Whatever had happened to the girl’s parents wasn’t important. Still, something struck her as vaguely familiar about the young woman.
“Is your inn very far?” Holly asked. “I walked here, of course.”
“It’s fairly close, and we’re happy to give you a lift,” Ginger replied, avoiding Marina’s look of surprise.
Finally, Marina had to speak up, “It’s not really?—”
“And my granddaughter Marina runs the adjoining cafe,” Ginger said, gesturing to her with a look that said,This is my decision.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Holly,” Marina said, giving in to her grandmother’s will.
Just then, Ivy returned with the painting. “Here you are, just as you wanted. Summer Beach, as seen from the driver’s seat of Oliver’s car. And that woman in the distance is you.”
They all turned toward the painting, a likeness of Summer Beach, with Ginger’s cottage on one side and a vintage Jaguar convertible on the other. Two forms strolled the beach—Ginger and…
“Is that Oliver?” Marina had been so accustomed to seeing Ginger with Bertrand in photographs and portraits, that it took her by surprise, even though it shouldn’t.
Ginger raised her brow and smiled. “Of course.”
Marina’s grandfather had passed away years ago, and Ginger had the right to date. Or choose another…what? Significant other? Husband?
Her grandmother was still scrutinizing her. “Does that surprise you?”
Marina’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “No, but he’s sure to be surprised. In a good way, for sure.”
Ever gracious, Ginger pressed her lips together in a knowing way and lifted her chin. “With this, he’ll remember Summer Beach wherever he goes.”
Admiring the work of art, she wondered about Ginger’s motivation for this. “Is Oliver moving?” Ivy asked.
“The lease on his beach bungalow will be up soon. He will have to make a decision.”
Now everything was making sense. She recalled Oliver’s upcoming trip to Boston to visit his nephew’s family—the son of his late brother Kurt.
Is that what this painting was about? She couldn’t imagine Oliver moving and letting Ginger go, but family was important at their age.
A chill crept over her. Would Ginger move with him? She was so shaken by this thought she couldn’t even ask the question. She hadn’t thought this decision would come this soon.
Marina and her sisters needed Ginger, too.
Turning back to Ivy, Ginger put a hand to her heart and nodded her approval. “You’ve amazed me again with your talent. I’m sure he’ll love it.”
While Ivy wrapped the piece with care, Marina found her voice again. “We brought Jack’s van to transport it.” She reached for the painting, eager to do something to alleviate the tension she felt.
Ginger turned to Holly. “We have room for you, too. Come along; we’re going there now.”
The younger woman dipped her chin. “I appreciate that, but I have to ask your rates.”
Placing a hand on Holly’s shoulder, Ginger said, “You’ll be staying in my home. I have plenty of room now that my girls have moved on. Our Heather is about your age and has a room down the hall. Think of us as family while you’re here.”
