Status Updates From Blackberry Beach (Hope Harb...

we’ve spoken with the Helping Hands board and thrown our hat in the ring. We’ll be married before all the paperwork and final approval from the state are completed, and we can’t think of a more gratifying way to spend our retirement than by helping children get a solid start in life in a loving home.” Zach stared at them. The engagement announcement wasn’t unexpected. But houseparents at Hope House?

Mistaken note. Read HH6 in Jan. 2025 and Steven Roark was main character in that book. In HH5 he was minor character = Thomma’s boss on boat. I confused him with Doug ! Doug’s main emphasis was re: Pelican Point Lighthouse. (Mixed up because of military background.)

Today had not played out as he’d expected. Frank flipped the single piece of salmon destined to be his Wednesday dinner, closed the lid on the small grill, and ambled over to the edge of the patio.

Aunt S to Frank
There was ample opportunity to talk in the quiet bedroom, as Frank had indicated—but all at once he seemed tongue-tied. Not a problem. After years of cultivating clients and running meetings, keeping the conversational ball in the air was a no-brainer. Rule number one—ask open-ended questions.

Aunt + Zach
What are we having?” “Cioppino, featuring shellfish and halibut straight off the wharf. I picked up the ingredients after the boats came in.” “I’m glad I had a light lunch. Give me a few minutes to freshen up and I’ll set the table.”

she adjusted her sunglasses and scooted to the far end, pulling her bag along with her. As if to accommodate the new addition to their trio, the two seagulls stood, waddled a few feet away, and snuggled up together on the sidewalk, keeping the human couple under surveillance. Zach sat,

“You could join her. There’s room on the bench.” “I don’t know.” He studied her again. “She likes her privacy.” “Privacy has its pluses—but too much solitude can get lonely.” She leaned down to share a bite of her taco with one of the two birds. “She doesn’t have to be lonely. Hope Harbor is a welcoming place.” “Maybe that’s why she came into town today. For company.”

The truth was, acting had been the most fun back in college, on a small stage with a live audience, before money and power trips and publicity stunts were involved. When she did it out of love. But perhaps that was true of any passion.

Kat + Charley

“Thank you. Making chocolate is fun.” “And acting isn’t?” “Um . . . yeah. Of course it’s fun.” Or it had been, once upon a time. Before all the craziness began to suck the joy out of performing. Before everyone wanted a piece of her. Before fame became a carrot that enticed her to do things she later lamented. Before someone died.

Why don’t you see if they’re assembling a landscaping crew?” “That’s a great idea,” Zach chimed in. “Father Murphy created a beautiful meditation garden behind St. Francis.” “Thank you for the compliment.” The priest gave a slight bow. “I’ll see if those skills are on the list. I also want to add an idea for a fundraiser. I was thinking we could hold a Taste of Hope Harbor gathering,

Steven Roark. “If we decide to proceed, there’s money in the budget for a down payment, but we’ll have to come up with the balance.
(Color me surprised! He is permanent Helping Hands Director ! He must have followed Michael H. from bk 1. I never would have guessed from last book’s intro of him as character.)
Disabled (IED) Army soldier.

[ Romance in their 60’s :)]
As he gave her a warm smile, her pulse picked up. Good grief. What a ridiculous reaction for a sophisticated executive with six decades of living behind her. She did her best to summon up the professional poise that was suddenly playing hard-to-get. “It seems like a worthwhile cause—

“The gang’s all here.” At Charley’s soft comment, she shifted her attention to him. “What?” “Nothing. It’s just comforting to be surrounded by friends.”
(The seagulls, Caspar, Trixie = dolphin)

“They’ve been hanging around ever since I got here—and they always follow me down to the beach.” “Interesting.” He swigged his water. “Any other regular visitors from the animal kingdom?”

As her seagull friends landed on the railing of the deck, Charley crossed an ankle over his knee. “Well, well, well. So this is where you two have been hanging out.” Katherine looked at the birds. Back at Charley. “You know them?” “We’re old acquaintances. Katherine, meet Floyd and Gladys.” Her lips twitched. “You name seagulls?” “These two are special. They met here in Hope Harbor.”

he read about an organization that purchases houses and provides houseparents so foster sibling groups can be kept intact and raised in a stable, loving home setting rather than being split up and bounced around from place to place. He hoped Helping Hands would be interested in sponsoring a house like that.”

On occasion, the organization becomes more proactive if a worthwhile proposal is presented. That’s what happened with Hope House—the latest project. The idea was brought forward by our police chief’s husband, Adam Stone, who’s an ex-con.”

The concept of keeping foster children from the same family together, in a more permanent home environment, has a lot of merit. So much of what we become later in life is influenced by our youthful experiences of home. I’d like to think the town will throw its full support behind this.”

It appeared the ember of attraction could burst into flame at any age. Wouldn’t it be a kick if Frank and his aunt connected? But a relationship between them had about as much chance of developing into anything serious as the one between him and Kat. In both cases, the woman involved was only a visitor to Hope Harbor, and as far as he knew, neither had any intention of uprooting herself.

Because Jason died. She closed her eyes. Exhaled slowly. Seeing up close and personal what could happen to someone who’d succumbed to the lure of fame and lost his compass had been chilling. But that alone hadn’t tarnished the luster. The constant manipulation, relentless paparazzi, and privacy-invading tabloids were also getting old.

For a woman who didn’t share much about herself, she asked an awful lot of questions. “My dad’s there. My mom’s been gone for eight years. Are your parents still in Nebraska?” “No.”

Typical Aunt Stephanie. On the rare occasions they’d connected through the years, she’d been a hoot. Blunt, funny, and adventurous, radiating an almost palpable joie de vivre and spouting a live-and-let-live philosophy.

Aunt S - Zach

“I’ll look forward to whatever you concoct—but I’d also be satisfied with sandwiches or takeout. Don’t go to any trouble on my behalf. And I promise not to overstay my welcome. If I decide to extend my visit, I’ll find other accommodations. You know what Ben Franklin said—after three days, guests, like fish, begin to smell.”

Aunt Stephanie retire @ 60y from globe-trot’g career. She’s go’t 2 see her (also workaholic) brother in Atlanta, GA. He is high-powered lawyer.