A Room with a Roux by Sarah Fox

Author:Sarah Fox [Fox, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lyrical Press
Published: 2020-10-27T01:38:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

After The Flip Side had closed for the day, I texted Brett to see if he was interested in going to the Festival of Trees with me. It was the first official day of the event, and although I’d already seen most of the trees, I still wanted to take in the holiday atmosphere and check out how everything had come together. Brett was working with Pedro’s crew again, but he responded to my message within an hour. He wanted to go with me, so we arranged to meet at home shortly after five.

That gave me some time to kill, but I didn’t mind. Bentley needed a walk, and I was craving some time on the beach. The weather was chilly once again, frost still visible in places, but I needed to breathe in some fresh air and listen to the waves breaking on shore. Sometimes I wondered how I’d managed to live so many years in the city, without spending time by the ocean on a daily basis. Living on the beach made me feel much more settled, more at peace. Of course, Brett and all the other great people in my life contributed to that as well. Moving to Wildwood Cove was the best thing I could have done. I’d never regretted the decision, not even for a second.

As soon as I got home, I let Bentley out the back door. He zoomed out onto the porch and down the steps to the yard, his tail wagging. Flapjack and I followed close behind him. Flapjack jumped up onto the porch railing and settled in to watch whatever birds might fly past. I tugged my hat down farther over my ears and zipped my jacket right up to the top. The tall, dry grass at the top of the beach bent and swayed in the cold breeze. Whitecaps topped the waves, although the ocean wasn’t as turbulent as it could get sometimes. I couldn’t see any boats out on the water. It wasn’t exactly good weather for a pleasure cruise.

The tide was all the way in, so Bentley and I didn’t have far to go to reach the water’s edge. Once there, we headed east, Bentley switching between galloping along and stopping to sniff interesting smells. Every so often, I hopped up onto one of the logs that had been washed up on shore, balancing my way along it before jumping down again.

My eyes watered in the cold wind, and I was glad I’d remembered to wear a hat and gloves, but I had no desire to turn back and head home. Bentley and I walked almost all the way out to the eastern end of the cove. We remained there for a while as I tossed a stick to Bentley, making sure not to throw it into the water. He’d splashed in the shallows a couple of times, but even he seemed to find the water too cold.

Eventually, we headed back toward home, in no hurry. When

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