PROMISE AT REFUGE POINT - Sample

Chapter One

Summer Arnold stared at Sally Jenkins and willed herself not to cry. "You...you've already sold? Signed the papers?"

Sally nodded, her eyes also filling with tears, but her face didn't reflect the same anguish that was currently crushing Summer's chest. "I have, Summer. I'm sorry. I know this means you're out of a job, but it's time I retired."

Summer liked Sally. She liked this job, even if it was scooping ice cream and supervising teenagers which sometimes felt like herding cats. Sally's Dairy Shack was a summertime fixture in Jewell Cove. People lined up to have a double scoop and sit at the picnic tables along the wharf, listening to the lap-lap of the waves and the cry of the gulls over Penobscot Bay. Summer's "career" had consisted of working seasonal jobs for years, and every July and August, she worked at Sally's. Only it wasn't Sally's any longer.

Summer hadn't even known retirement was a discussion that was happening, though perhaps she should have. Sally was no spring chicken. But she wasn't exactly old, either. And now Summer wondered how she was going to make her rent, let alone put money aside for tuition. She'd decided to go back to school in the fall, to do something more with her life. She'd paid her application fee to the nearby community college and had been accepted into the paralegal program. But none of that would work if she didn't have a job from June through the end of August.

She should have known better than to get her hopes up. When Sally had called asking to meet for coffee at Breezes Café, Summer had foolishly thought that maybe an offer to manage the dairy bar was forthcoming—maybe even a raise. Instead, she was being shown the door.

Conversations swirled around them, but for once Summer wasn't interested in people-watching. "I could have managed this for you, Sally. You didn't need to sell it." She failed to keep the disappointment out of her voice, and Sally's crow's feet deepened as she frowned. But Summer knew she had the experience to do the job well. Honestly, it stung that Sally hadn't asked. Sally certainly could have taken a step back from the business if she wanted to have more time to herself.

Sally sighed. "I know you're disappointed, Summer. I hated having to tell you. But the truth is, I needed to sell the business to fund my retirement. It'll likely be closed for a good part of the season, as the new owners renovate."

"Renovate for what?"

Sally's gaze slid away. "A gift shop."

Summer looked down, crushed. Another gift shop tourist trap, selling the ubiquitous tchotchkes and saltwater taffy and everything with stupid lobsters on it, spelled lobstah. The mass-produced kind of gift shop, no doubt, that stocked up on magnets and keychains and T-shirts. It might have been all right if it was something like Jess ran up at Treasures. That was all local goods and consignment from nearby artisans and craftspeople. True souvenirs from a gorgeous little town on Maine's midcoast, as well as art supplies and evening classes for the townies and activities for the kids. But losing Sally's meant losing yet another business that catered to the townspeople and replacing it with one that provided cheap goods to the transient tourists that came and went three months of the year, maybe four if the weather was good and the "peepers" came in search of the splendor of fall colors.

The more immediate problem was that it meant no job for her. She would finish at the elementary school in two weeks and had nothing else lined up. Her school job was only part time. She was a lunchroom supervisor for two hours a day each day, then worked for three hours in the afterschool program. Twenty-five hours per week. She barely made ends meet. Scooping ice cream was just over minimum wage money, but it had always been more weekly hours, plus tips.