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from Return to Sandy Shores by Shirley Holder Platt

Copyright © 2019–2021 Shirley Holder Platt

Chapter 13 - Sam

I found the key exactly where the landlord said it would be and let myself in. The place was tiny, but it was as cute as I’d hoped it would be. I opened all the windows to let the musty smell out and the sound of waves in. I pulled a lawn chair out of the back of my car and sat on the back patio with Sally in my lap for a few minutes. I got her set up in the bathroom with a bowl of water and her litter box. She didn’t like the closed door, but I figured that was better than taking the chance of her going out the front while I unpacked. I’d stored most of my furniture, since the rental came fully furnished. I figured I’d get a bigger place after I found a job, then I’d enlist the help of my friends to get me officially moved. I’d given myself three months to find something that would pay the bills. I’d had so many kinds of jobs, my problem was settling on what I wanted to do. I took a shower to knock the dust of the road off and fell into the queen-sized bed as soon as I’d made it up with my own sheets. As soon as Sally was free, she began checking the place out. She jumped from her tower to the bed when I got in and settled in for the night at my feet.

I lay awake listening to the beach sounds. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed this old town until I found my muscles relaxing under its spell. I dreamed of cinnamon rolls from Bernacki’s bakery, and of a certain veterinarian with light chocolate brown eyes and sexy curls on his forehead. The sun poured in through the sheer curtains the next morning, waking me and Sally early. I slipped my feet into fluffy house shoes and puttered around the kitchen making coffee and wishing I’d bought creamer. I sat on the back porch and watched sea gulls flying overhead. The house had a couple of palm trees in the back, and the sound of the wind as it whipped the fronds soothed my bruised ego. If being fired is what it took to get me back here, then getting fired must have been a good thing.

The first order of the day was to get some breakfast. I’d been dreaming of cinnamon rolls, but now I had the chance to taste one. I dressed in shorts, a camisole t-shirt, and flip flops, and gave Sally a kiss on the nose. She jumped onto the window sill and watched as I walked toward Main Street. Bernacki’s, here I come!

The bell on the door tinkled as I entered. The place looked exactly the same as I remembered it, except a different teenager worked the counter. I’d grown up getting my sweets from a set of pretty twin teens with long blond hair and ye...

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