The Beach House Read Online Free Page A

blanket. A passerby cannonballed into her and raced off without apology or even backward glance.
    It was time to regroup.
    She noticed a row of pay phones. “Hey, guys, I told Scott I’d call when we all got here. I’ll meet you at the escalators?”
    “Yes.”
    “Sugar,” Char said, “don’t you have a cell phone?”
    “Last woman on the planet without one.”
    “Then take mine.”
    “I can use these—”
    “Don’t be silly. Those take forever and a day.” She produced a slender silver contraption and placed it in her hands. “Just push the send button. Give him our love.”
    “Thanks.”
    As they walked on, Molly stumbled toward the sunshine.

    Seated on a sun-drenched concrete bench outside the airport, Molly held the phone to her ear. All around her people moved about. Cars stopped briefly at the curb. Police urged drivers not to linger. She closed her eyes.
    The answering machine in her kitchen picked up the call. All six Prestons said their names, then Scott finished with the requisite “Please leave a message.” She pictured the kids coming in after school, excited to see the blinking red light on the device she referred to as Gloomy Gus. Most times it delivered only cheerless news that demanded immediate attention from Pastor Scott.
    Lord, thank You for Gloomy Gus, this wonderful invention that allows me to be there when they walk in the door. I promise never to curse him again
.
    She chatted nonchalantly, describing her flight and what she had seen of San Diego so far. She spoke to each child individually, reminding them of school projects.
    “Okay, that’s that. Love you, kiddos. Be good. Now let me talk to Dad. Scotty.” The lump returned to her throat and her chest tightened. She swallowed. “This is such an emotional thing. All at once I’m—I don’t know. I’m a forty-year-old body in a twentysomething head. It’s like my past just crashed into my present and they’re not gelling.”
    She opened her eyes and glanced around. Was she making any sense to him? “It’s kind of…” She almost said scary, but realized curious Betsy would very likely still be listening to the machine. “Scary” would disturb her. “It’s kind of weird. But in a good way. So thank you for encouraging me to come. Bye. I love you.”
    Through a process of elimination, Molly figured out which button to push and broke the connection. Lifting her face to the sun’s warmth, she shut her eyes again.
    Lord, I’m waffling. Still. A doubter like a heaving sea ruffled by the wind. Is he really okay without me at home
?
    The ludicrous question echoed in her head. A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.
    Amazing how His peace could wind its way even around malfunctioning hormones running amok in a strange city.

Six
    Jo groaned. “It’s hideous!”
    “Nooo,” Char purred in disagreement. “On the contrary, it’s got character painted all over it.”
    “It’s fire-orange,” Andie piped in, patting her reddish hair. “Everyone knows fire-orange indicates character.”
    Molly laughed. “I vote with Char and Andie. It’s perfect.”
    They stood at the edge of a flagstone patio. A short distance behind them the ocean whooshed peacefully, but their attention was glued to the monstrosity sitting before them: a so-called beach house.
    Jo stared at her friends in disbelief. “Are we all looking at the same ramshackle house?”
    They nodded, and Molly read the stenciled sign nailed above the door, “Thirty-four hundred Oceanfront Walk.”
    “Ladies,” Jo said, “you will not hurt my feelings if you agree with me. It’s absolutely appalling.”
    She had arranged to rent the place
by telephone
. Why, oh why, hadn’t she made the thirty-minute drive and visited it in person? Why had she entrusted the decision to a property manager she’d never met?
    Maybe because she had been in the midst of an impossible work situation. Maybe because she had only asked the stranger for four things: She wanted the