Page 29 of First Street (Harbor View Cozy Fantasy #1)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ocean

“This is the last time I’m picking up after you in our room, young woman,” Jo scolded, half in jest. “Although, I have to say, you are doing reasonably better.”

She vanished a moment later.

Skye had to pop over to Arthur’s to drop something off before they could head out.

While Ocean waited, she pulled out her phone and started scrolling.

Ivy was posting the usual—coffee cups, random selfies, and good-looking shirtless guys by the pool.

Same old, same old. Ocean barely paid attention.

What she really wanted to check on was what her dad was up to.

Rhys Stark. His own feed was still nothing but headshots, like he thought the world needed twenty different versions of the same smug face. But the hashtag search? A whole different story.

Ocean’s stomach twisted as the posts loaded. Her dad, poolside, with some blond practically glued onto his lap. A grinning selfie with two women kissing his cheeks. And then—ugh—one shot he clearly didn’t even know about, his hand parked on some girl’s ass as they walked away.

She groaned, loud and frustrated. Her dad had the brainpower of a bag of rocks, but maybe part of the problem was her mom.

How could Skye not see it? Clearly, Rhys had already moved on.

Checked out. Gone. Their marriage was toast, and for some ridiculous reason, Skye still acted like she had something to hang on to.

Like pretending would make it all better.

Her thumb kept scrolling. “Gross.”

There it was. The worst. Him full-on tongue-kissing the lead actress in the movie they were filming. She didn’t look much older than Ocean.

Skye wasn’t on social media. For half a second, Ocean thought maybe she should just show her the pictures. Let her see for herself. She had to know. All their fights, at least the ones she’d overheard, were about money and time. But this? This was so much worse.

For a second, Ocean wondered if she was the only teenager on the planet actually rooting for her parents to split.

She hated bullies. Hated people who took advantage of others.

She might only be fifteen, but she knew it wasn’t just a high school problem.

Her father was living proof. The way he treated Skye? Straight-up bullying.

He wouldn’t ask for a divorce. Why should he? He had it made. Her mom made money, held everything together, took care of him and Ocean on a daily basis between working her jobs. Meanwhile, he got to fool around, knowing Skye either didn’t know, or worse, wouldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Argh.

Ocean shoved the phone in her pocket just as her mom came through the front door.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You’ve got that look on your face,” Skye said.

“What look?”

“Like you’re about two seconds away from either blowing a gasket or bursting into tears.”

“I don’t know what a gasket is, but I’m not doing either one.” Ocean popped her sunglasses on and headed for the door. Crazy, how her mom could read her mood without her saying a word.

“Walking or driving?” she asked.

“Driving, since I have no idea if that one boutique that used to be in town is even still there,” Skye said, snagging the car keys.

“Shopping first, then sightseeing? Or the other way around?”

“Neither. We’re making a surprise stop first.”

“Surprise? Where?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now, would it?” Skye said with a quick smile.

The afternoon was gorgeous. Way more people were on the sidewalks now than when they’d first arrived. Ocean tilted her head back and sighed. “Four days. We’ve been here only four days, but it feels longer.”

“Ready to go back to California?” Skye asked.

“No. I mean good longer,” Ocean blurted it out fast, almost panicked. “Harbor View is so cool. I want to figure the place out. Get out and explore.”

“But you don’t have any friends here.”

“I have Jo,” Ocean said with a grin.

“I mean someone you can actually go to the beach with. Someone real.”

“Give me time, Mom.” Ocean drew out the words in a classic teenage whine. “We’ve been here four days, remember?”

Skye pulled the car up in front of this giant, rambling house that looked like it had come straight out of some old movie.

The place was massive, with porches wrapping around it like they couldn’t decide where to stop, chimneys poking up everywhere, and so many peaks and roof angles it looked like the architect had been high.

The shingles were gray and weather-beaten, like no one had cared about them since forever, and the front door was just hanging open.

From what she could see, the inside was almost totally gutted.

Sunlight streamed through broken windows onto bare floors and piles of dust.

It didn’t look like any house Ocean had ever seen back in California. It was too big, too old, too…abandoned-princess-castle. And yet, even with construction going on, it kind of had this vibe, like the walls probably remembered when rich people in pearls and tuxes used to throw parties there.

“Is this the surprise? Who lives here?”

“Now that you’ve met Jo, I figured you’d want to see it.”

“Wait, was this Jo’s house?”

“This was their summer place, when her family came to Harbor View.”

“Whoa. She came from serious money.”

“Her family did.”

“And that’s why they didn’t want her marrying Henry?” Ocean asked.

“You know about Henry?” Skye asked, surprised.

“Uh, yeah. Of course I do. Jo told me about him. Totally tragic. But a real love story.” Ocean’s gaze drifted as she thought about her dad’s socials. “Too bad all relationships can’t be like that anymore. Not tragic, I mean. Just real.”

Skye didn’t try to spin some lie to make her believe otherwise. She just let the words hang there between them.

“Hey, can we go through the house?” Ocean asked.

“Look at it. I don’t think it’s safe. But I’ll ask Arthur. He probably knows someone who knows someone, and that someone can get us inside to walk around.”

“I wonder if Jo misses this house. I mean, if you’re going to be stranded on earth forever and ever, this would’ve given her more space.”

“But then she wouldn’t be staring across the street, knowing Henry’s right there.”

Ocean thought of the letters. Henry’s letters and how much they’d meant to her.

“Did her family own this place all these years? Did it ever go up for sale or something?”

“I know as much as you do. But we’ll ask Arthur. He’ll know.”

Skye pulled back onto the road and rolled slowly through town, offering a running commentary on every building they passed.

Ocean barely listened. Her mind was still on Jo.

Maybe there was some way to get those two together, let them actually talk.

With phones and computers. A device in each building.

Maybe she could make it happen. But first, she had to meet Henry.

“What’s he like?” she asked.

“What’s who like?”

“Henry. Jo’s boyfriend.”

“I’ve never met him,” Skye admitted. “But I can still give you a rundown on?—”

“Wait. You see Jo, but you can’t see Henry?”

“That’s the way it’s always been. I see Jo, and your grandmother saw her. But neither of us ever saw Henry. Only Arthur sees him and talks to him.”

Ocean blinked. “What the hell?”

“Language,” Skye warned automatically.

“Come on, Mom. That’s crazy. Unfair. Does Arthur have, like, a special line to the afterlife?”

“Well, Arthur can’t see Jo, either,” Skye explained. “That’s just the way it is. We didn’t set the rules. They did, I guess. But actually, now that I think of it, Jo and Henry had no say in it, either. The same way they had no say about staying behind after they died.”

Ocean tried to sort through all of it. She had a million and one questions. What had happened before Clare? Before Arthur bought the house? If she camped out across the street, would she be able to see Henry? And how could she break the rules keeping them apart? That was definitely not fair.

Her mom pulled into a parking space, snapping Ocean back to the present.

“I can’t believe it. The store is still here. Even the same name.”

“What a cool name. You’d never find something like that in Southern Cal.” Ocean pushed open the car door and stepped out. “Seafoam & Silk.”

“When I was in high school, my best friend’s mother owned this shop,” Skye said with a smile. “Thanks to her, we were the best-dressed girls at every dance.”

Ocean took in the place. The dress shop looked like it had once been someone’s house, now converted into a clothing boutique. The wide front windows held headless mannequins in flowing skirts and delicate blouses, clothes arranged just so, like they belonged in an Instagram feed.

A cowbell clanged cheerfully when they stepped inside. The air smelled faintly of orange blossoms and pressed linen. Way at the back of the store, a woman was busy hanging dresses on a rack.

“Please look around,” she called out. “I’ll be right there.”

Ocean drifted toward a rack of clothing, dragging her fingers along a line of blouses that looked like they’d all escaped from some country club catalog.

Crisp white collars, pastel sweaters tied across empty shoulders.

They were obviously waiting for a yacht that never came.

Underneath, skirts practically shouted brunch with the ladies.

Ocean wrinkled her nose. Yeah, no thanks.

She wasn’t about to dress like somebody’s mom in Newport Beach.

Skye, meanwhile, had already wandered toward the back of the store where the woman was working, completely oblivious to Ocean’s verdict on the fashion disaster surrounding her.

A few minutes later, her mother’s sudden gasp was followed by another.

“Barb!”

“Skye!”

“Oh my God!”

Ocean looked up in time to see the two women wrap each other in a tight hug, clinging like long-lost sisters.

“What are you doing here?”

“I took over for my mom after she retired,” the voice said. “I heard about Clare. I’m so sorry.”