Page 17 of Distant Shores (Stapled Magnolias #2)

ADAIR

“ I s it illegal to sleep on the beach? Has to be, right?”

Beside me, Delly was sprawled out on a beach towel emblazoned with her university logo, mindlessly raking her fingers through the sun-warmed sand.

“I actually don’t know the answer to that,” I said, squinting my eyes against that sun. “But if I had to guess, yeah. Probably illegal.”

“Hmm. Wack.”

“Wack,” I agreed.

We’d been in coastal Alabama for less than a day, and things were… not going to plan. At all.

Delly turned over on her stomach. “What are we gonna do, Addy?”

I met my sister’s gaze and smiled reassuringly at her. It’d been a long time since she asked me a variation of that question. She used to do it often when she was younger, panicking when our parents failed us at every turn.

But the older I got and the more competent I became at caring for her, the less she asked .

“We’re going to enjoy the beach,” I told her. “You’re going to put on another layer of sunscreen and go look for that sand dollar you were after last time. Then we’ll visit Pops, then maybe we’ll go cruise around town with the windows down. Yeah?”

She tipped her sunglasses down and met my gaze, smiling widely. “Yeah. But I’m gonna skip the sunscreen because I have…” She drew out the last word as she rummaged in her beach bag and produced a hat that was roughly the size of a monster truck tire.

“It’s a miracle you found one big enough for your head,” I said, holding back my laugh. “Was it from a specialty shop?”

Sand sprayed into my face when she stood up from her towel, and I sputtered as I whipped off my glasses and brushed it away.

“I’m ignoring your comment, brother, and letting the Zen of the water guide me,” she said primly as she placed the serving platter of a hat onto her head. “And it’s telling me to go that way,” she said, pointing down the beach. “Away from your sass.”

A gust of wind blew her towel up as she left, and I grabbed my crutch and threw it on top of it to keep it from blowing away.

Hopefully, we’d be better at beach-ing with practice, but that was the least of our problems.

With greasy fingers, tired eyes, and expired excitement, Delly and I had pulled into Live Oak around 6:00 p.m. last night. We’d gotten out of the Jeep outside Zinnia House, Pops’s new residence, planning on taking him to dinner.

But the moment I’d gotten out of the Jeep, my phone had buzzed with an email that spelled doom.

Not literal doom. Just mild to moderate doom.

The condo we’d booked for the summer had been abruptly sold to a new management company.

It was supposedly not uncommon—according to my frantic, immediate Google search—and they were closing it for renovations.

They’d returned our deposit without so much as an apology, and now we had nowhere to stay for the next three-ish months.

A yawn cracked my jaw as I pulled out my phone and scanned the nearby rental listings for the tenth time this morning.

Thankfully, Jillie came with Pops for dinner last night and offered us her guest room and couch for the night when she heard about it. Despite the stress, it’d been nice to spend time with all of them, and Delly had cooed over Rachel’s baby bump with stars in her eyes at every opportunity.

But I’d still felt a bit like an intruder no matter how welcoming they were. Or how quirky.

I smiled as I remembered Jillie tiptoeing into the kitchen at some ungodly hour this morning and started blending something.

I’d politely pretended to be asleep during it, not sure if it was some ritual of hers or what, discreetly pulling the quilt I’d taken from my old room at Pops’s cabin over my head.

If worse came to worst, I’d find the nearest hotel and eat the cost for a couple of nights while we searched for somewhere else. I had the savings for it, but I didn’t want to deliver a summer of uncertainty to Delly.

I lay back on the towel and focused on the sound of the waves, willing it to ease the panic.

Pops had seemed well last night. He didn’t offer much about his first month living at Live Oak beyond what he’d said during phone calls, but he did admit that his new medication was making him extra tired.

I’d kept an eye on the tremors in his hands the entire time we’d been together, and they didn’t seem worse , at least.

I’d just started dozing when my phone buzzed beside my head. I rolled onto my side and shielded my eyes as I squinted at the text.

Jillie

Can y’all come to this address? I have an idea.

317 Camellia Lane

I copied and pasted it into my maps app and saw that it was a lot inside Live Oak.

Sitting up, I scanned the beach for Delly and waved her over. A gust of wind just about carried her ridiculous hat away, and she had to slam her hand on top of her head to keep it in place as she hurried back to me.

My renewed excitement stayed with me as I explained, and we packed up quickly and got back into the Jeep.

“Do you think it’s a rental?” Delly yelled from the passenger seat. The windows were down, and the wind from the Gulf made it pretty loud inside the cab.

“I dunno,” I yelled back, driving with one hand so my arm could hang partially out the window. “But I have a good feeling.”

She smiled broadly, then turned on the radio.

“Under Pressure” by Queen blasted through the Jeep’s speakers, and we wasted no time singing along.

Two more songs from the ’80s later, we were at the Live Oak gate and had to turn the radio off.

The guard let us through after a quick explanation.

Last night, Jillie said we’d have our employee badges to buzz us into most doors and gates at Live Oak, but we wouldn’t get them until after orientation in a couple of days .

I followed the GPS and slowed when I realized where it was taking us.

“Oh, Lordy,” I mumbled as we reached our destination.

“What?” Delly asked, looking out the window in confusion.

I pulled over onto the curb by the driveway and sat heavily back in my seat.

“Remember when I told you about getting lost here? When I thought I might’ve murdered a senior citizen?”

Delly snorted. “Yeah, but then you said it wasn’t.

That the person who crashed out on their skateboard or whatever was actually, oh, how did you put it?

” She turned toward me, dramatically pulled her tank top away from her body, and lowered her voice in mockery—or flattery, depending on how you looked at it—of mine.

“Delly, I swear , I found her the next day. I was so relieved when I saw her knees and that I hadn’t harmed some foxy-yet-sturdy older lady. And her eyes , Delly. Her eyes.”

Okay, I was taking offense. “I didn’t say any of that.”

She arched an eyebrow at me.

Dammit, she knew I didn’t like to lie.

“Except the part about the knees,” I mumbled.

She switched to her other eyebrow.

“And the eyes,” I conceded.

Her brows returned to factory setting. “So. You were saying?”

I groaned. “I’ve about forgotten now and kinda wish I had. But this ,” I gestured to the street in front of the house Jillie had sent us to, “is where it happened. The incident.”

“Oooooooh,” Delly sang as she braced her arms beside her and rose up in her seat to see out my window, as if there would be a plaque commemorating my embarrassment that she could take a selfie with .

Jillie whirred by my door on a Live Oak golf cart, making us both jump.

“They need to put a bell on those things,” Delly said seriously.

I nodded in agreement, then checked both ways twice before opening my door and getting out. Jillie parked the cart in front of the Jeep and hopped out, and I raised my eyebrows at her outfit.

A Live Oak branded polo and… sweatpants that cinched at the ankles.

I couldn’t claim that I remembered what she’d been wearing when she left her house this morning, but I’m pretty sure I’d remember this.

She shrugged. “I spilled something on my slacks this morning and didn’t have time to change before getting to the Locc for casino day.”

Delly rounded the Jeep. “Wanna borrow one of my T-shirts and lean into the athleisure aesthetic?”

Jillie waved her off. “No, but thanks, hun. I’m going home after this.

It’s been a long morning. So,” she said, coming to a stop in front of one of the dozens of identical small homes on this street, each separated by a sliver of lawn.

“These are the Villas, where the active adults who don’t need daily care stay. ”

“We’re active adults!” Delly said excitedly, and my chin fell to my chest as I hid my smile. Her optimism really did overtake her sometimes.

“Yes, well,” Jillie said kindly, “in this case, ‘adult’ means over the age of fifty-five.”

Delly deflated. “That counts me out, but I guess Addy can stay.”

I poked her with my crutch, and she yelped, jumping away from me.

Jillie shook her head. “Well, I’ve actually spoken to the housing manager, and she agreed to a temporary solution.

This house is slightly bigger than the others, with three bedrooms. It’s meant for either older couples with a parent they’re caretakers for or seniors who want to have roommates.

Neither case is common, so this house has been unoccupied for some time.

There are some extra rules for living on Live Oak’s campus, all of which I have printed for you to look over.

We had to get permission from your neighbor—” Jillie gestured to the house beside ours.

“—but as I knew she would, she agreed with enthusiasm. As long as you don’t throw house parties or blast music inside, you should be good to go.

Or, as Miss Lenny put it, as long as you invite her to said party, she’ll be happy. ”

That name rang a bell, but before I could place it, Delly threw her arms around Jillie. “Thank you so much!”

“Jillie,” I said hesitantly, pulling my shirt away from my body as I started sweating in the ruthless sun. “Are you sure this isn’t asking too much? You already got us jobs lined up, and now this?”