Noah socked her arm. “Eew, you perv.”
Danielle separated them. “All right, enough violence. Where to next?”
“I’m hungry,” Noah declared.
“You’re always hungry.” Grinning over her incredibly good luck, Danielle led her little family back onto the crowded street. Until her ex’s ill-timed arrival in Trappers Cove, she’d envisioned a future where fun times like this would be shared with either her kids or with Matteo, but—fingers crossed—Noah and Olivia seemed at ease with her new…
“Boyfriend,” she whispered, giddy with happiness.
“What’s that, Mom?” As sharp-eared as a bat, Olivia snatched that clue.
“Beautiful, I said.” Danielle slung her arm around her daughter’s skinny shoulders and smooched the top of her head. “I’m so glad you guys stayed for the holiday.”
Noah linked his arm through her free one and tugged them toward the cluster of food vendors further down Main Street. “Dad’s a poop-head on the fourth. Never wants to stay up to see the fireworks.”
She really ought to scold her son for disparaging his father that way, but Noah was right—Jason was a poophead. And for once, she got to enjoy being the fun parent. What a treat!
Trappers Cove had pulled out all the stops for the Fourth of July. Balloons bobbed everywhere. Red, white, and blue bunting hung from the old-fashioned streetlamps, and buskers and vendors filled the sidewalks. All along Main Street, visitors streamed from shop to shop and clustered around booths hawking crafts, beach gear, and food.
“I smell corn dogs.” Noah launched himself into the crowd.
Fortified with cheese-stuffed corn dogs, the kids scanned the other offerings on this block. “Look, a fortuneteller. Can we, Mom?” Olivia’s teenaged cool fell away as she hopped, hands clasped over her chest.
In front of her crystal shop, Zora had set up a canopy draped with glittery scarves. Striking in her purple caftan and campy jeweled turban, she inspected the palm of a girl about Olivia’s age. After sending her customer on her way, Zora beckoned to Danielle.
“Good to see you again, dear. Are these angels yours?”
Noah’s eyes bugged out. Clearly, knowing a psychic netted Mom some serious cool points.
She introduced her children, dropped a ten into the jar, then backed off as they seated themselves at Zora’s table. “I’ll just check out that stained-glass stand.”
She kept an eye on them, of course, smiling at their wide-eyed expressions as Zora foretold their futures. A few minutes later, the kids returned, gesticulating, heads bent close.
“Must’ve been an interesting prediction,” Danielle observed.
Noah went first. “She said I would find treasure on the beach. Do we have a shovel?”
Olivia clucked her tongue. “It’s a metaphor, numbnuts.”
“Language, Olivia. What your sister means is that treasure could be anything valuable.”
He nodded. “Uh, okay. Like money? Or jewelry? I’ll bet people drop all kinds of stuff on the beach.”
“And what’s your prediction, Olivia?”
“It was weird. She said not to be scared of open doors.”
Danielle tapped her pursed lips. “That’s a thinker.”And not so different from what Zora told me.“So, ready to help me grill some chicken for tonight?”
Following the kids through the crowd, she chuckled at the sweet irony. First the school board, then the fortuneteller. Matteo was rallying the troops to convince her to stay. If only it were that easy.
Back in the kitchen, Noah shucked corn while Olivia diced peppers for pasta salad.
Noah scooped corn silk from the sink into the trash can. “Man, I love it here. I wish we could live here all the time.”
Open doors. She snuck a glance at her daughter, whose lips were clamped tight.
“No way.” Olivia gave her head a sharp shake. “All my friends are in Tacoma.”
