Elastic Heart: (The Happy Endings Resort Book 6) Read online

  Elastic Heart

  (A Happy Endings Resort Novella #6)

  ~*~

  Copyright © 2015 by Evelyne Stone

  Cover by K23 Designs

  Edited by Kimberly Brancatelli

  Jade Cummings returns to the Happy Endings Resort, a place once filled with summertime fun and adventure, but is now a place she dreads. Her father, who abandoned his family, leaving Jade and her mother for another woman, taints her fond memories. As Jade searches for closure by packing away her father's possessions, she realizes that the pieces of her past just aren't adding up. Along with her friend, Brooke, Jade begins to unravel the mystery of her father's betrayal, and soon discovers her past was encompassed by secrets and deceit.

  The truth brings Jade to a crossroad. Will she return to the life she had back home? Or will she find the courage to embrace a new life in Endings, surrounded by friends who had her back, and a man by her side who made her heart melt?

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Chap

  ter 1

  Childhood memories played like a movie inside my head as I drove through the small town of Endings, South Carolina that once was the most exciting place in the world to me. My family visited every summer on vacation. My reasons for the visit had nothing to do with enjoyment. Anger bubbled up from my stomach into my heart. I wanted to keep the happy memories at bay.

  All the familiar buildings were unchanged, which didn’t seem fair. Their rustic beauty made it hard for me to hate the sight of them. It had been six years since I’d driven through the town leading to the Happy Ending Resort, but my father had been living there for the past five years.

  My eyes locked on the ice cream shop my parents would take me to every Thursday night. Two adults exited with a child licking an ice cream cone. Their smiles pierced my heart. Would that man ever walk out on them, taking their joy with him?

  Inhaling deeply, I let go of the thought. Not every father walks out on his family. Staying positive took effort, and I so desperately wanted to be positive. I’d let myself be consumed by the negative far too long. Countless hours I spent, and God knew how much money, trying to forget how much it hurt.

  Selfish. I was being completely selfish. This trip was not about my anger and resentment towards my father. This was a mission for closure. Closure I anxiously yearned for, after the sudden passing of my father.

  I finally reached the end of the main street. One street sign in front of me pointed to the lake and the Happy Endings Resort. The other pointed towards the beach. I sat, staring at them, contemplating the beach.

  The side trip would give me a few moments to collect my emotions.

  “Ugh,” I screamed to no one, as I let common sense turn the car towards the resort. The beach could wait until I could offer it only good emotions. Why taint the only place I felt at peace with my nervous energy?

  The ancient “Welcome to the Happy Endings Resort” sign stood high in front of a border of thick trees. The sign had been there since before I was born. I knew that because my father would mention it every time we passed it…both ways. He never traveled anywhere without knowing, at the very least, the last ten years of history. The vacation spot had a history full of romance, mystery, and sadness.

  I mentally added anger to the list, as I was filled with nearly uncontainable frustration and rage that I was being forced to remember. My mother was set to come here, not me, but she had gotten stuck at work. That left me as the only person lucky enough to go through all of his things. Since he’d never married his mistress, and as little as I wanted to be here to do this, I’ll be damned if I let her anywhere near his trailer. Mom made me promise I would get in and out as fast as possible. Any distractions from the task at hand could set me back years in regards to my anger management therapy.

  I’d doubted he’d left anything of importance to find. He hadn’t moved away with anything that wouldn’t fit into his suitcase, and he’d been living in a trailer at the resort. Not much storage room, I assumed. Why the manager of the resort couldn’t just throw everything away was beyond me.

  Rounding the corner, I entered the oversized parking lot set up in front of the main office. I was alone, which seemed odd. I was used to the place crammed with people, rushing around to get checked in, aching to get to the lake for a dip to wash off the summer heat. The lack of sound was disturbing.

  Clean, fresh air cooled my flushed, stressed out skin the moment I opened the car door. The smell hadn’t changed, even though the scenery had. I’d worn my favorite pair of shorts, showing off my lean legs, thankful that it wasn’t too cold. The end of summer temperatures could be unpredictable. Luckily, the sun was shining, but a chilly breeze wrapped itself around my bare legs pulling me forward into the nostalgia of my past against the will of my presently dread-filled heart.

  Pulling open the front door, I was attacked by the pungent smell of bleach with familiar notes of coffee trying to overcome the chemicals used to scour the office from top to bottom. That hadn’t changed either. A guy I didn’t recognize sat behind the front desk. His smile greeted me, lifting his glasses up off his nose.

  “Welcome. Is this your first time visiting us?” His voice echoed through the open room.

  “No, I’ve been here before,” I responded, putting my purse on the counter. I pulled out the letter I’d received from our lawyer giving me permission to collect my dad’s things. “This is for you.”

  He accepted the letter, and glanced at it for only a brief moment. “You must be Jade?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Edwin, and may I be the first to offer you my condolences. Henry will be missed very much around here,” he said, his smile not quite as wide as before.

  I pushed the tears back, blinking those that had built up without permission. “Thank you.” No matter how much anger I’d felt towards my father, any mention of his death stung.

  He handed me a tissue. “I hope you don’t mind, but I had housekeeping go into your trailer for a cleaning, after we got the clear from the police.” He looked down for a brief moment before meeting my eyes again.

  “Oh, I can’t stay in his trailer,” I quickly clarified. “I need to book a cabin.”

  “I’m sorry for the confusion. I’d just assumed you would want to stay there while gathering his things.” His smile was not completely gone as his fingers hammered against his keyboard.

  Taking a deep breath, I offered him a smile trying to erase the tension. My mother wanted me to stay in his trailer, in fact, she almost demanded I stay there, and not roam the grounds. She worried about me way too much.

  “I’m sorry. I want to be in there as little as possible.” I didn’t offer any more of an explanation, hoping he wouldn’t ask.

  “Absolutely. I have a one-room cabin ready to go, however, it’s far enough away from your father’s trailer that you’ll have to drive back and forth.”

  “Perfect,” I said.

  I parked the car in front of the one room cabin. Taking only my purse, I decided to scope out my room before bringing in my suitcase. A king size canopy bed sat in the middle of the room with the headboard against the wall. There was a fireplace and two oversized chairs facing it. The one room looked bigger than my two bedroom apartment. The first thing I did was turn on the TV for company. Silence was never welcome, because along with it, came thoughts. Usually my darkest thoughts that troubled me the most. And, for the p
ast five years, that meant bitterness and resentment toward the man who left me, again, before I could tell him what I thought of his betrayal. My anger therapist had insisted that if I refused to speak honestly to my dad about how he had hurt me, then I needed to find a way to move on. I must have always had the idea in the back of my mind that I would confront him one day. Now, that was impossible. I focused my brain on the sound of the TV. I found a single serve coffee maker on the dresser, and turned it on. It would be two in the afternoon soon, and that’s when my body begs for more caffeine without fail.

  ~*~

  After unpacking my things, I made my coffee, and decided to switch the TV to a trashy talk show. I couldn’t concentrate very long. Being that anxious made me feel like a jumping bean locked inside a tiny box. I couldn’t sit still.

  I found a complementary map of the resort. The anxiety for the task before me was building in my gut. I knew I needed to face it head on and decided I would go over to my father’s trailer to see what I was dealing with. The guy wasn’t kidding, there was no way I could walk back and forth with my arms full of anything.

  The drive wasn’t too complicated, and I found myself out front, all too soon. The trailer looked much bigger than I’d expected.

  Staring at it will not make this go away.

  I took the four stairs leading up and opened the Plexiglas door, reluctantly stepping inside. This was where my father had taken his last breath. It was almost ghostly. The sun tried to burn its way through the pull down blinds, lighting the soft, floating dust that looked like it could wrap around the spirit of my past, and bring him back to look me in the eye. I let a few tears run down my cheeks without fighting them. Maybe I could finally find a way to say goodbye, alone in here, in my own way.

  Inside looked brand new, aside from the dust. The front door led straight into a living room with captain chairs and a love seat. The small kitchen had a microwave, and an oven big enough for one pan.

  The door to the bedroom flew shut, and I heard a thump.

  I jumped back, hoping it wasn’t a rat or raccoon.

  Grabbing a broom that was lying against the counter, I tiptoed towards the shut door, even though my gut told me to run the other way. The door opened before I reached it, and I screamed.

  It wasn’t a rat in my father’s trailer. I wasn’t that lucky. It was Hunter. It only took me a minute to recognize him. His features were the same, but his body filled out – like really filled out – muscles up and down his arms. He was taller and his hair was darker, but it was definitely him.

  Why are you checking him out? He’s an ass!

  “What the hell?” he asked.

  His condescending voice brought me back down to earth. “What the hell, you?”

  “Your comebacks still suck,” he said, flashing his charming smile. The same smile that’d made every girl around him melt into a puddle of hormones.

  I never fell for that smile. I refused, but I still remembered what it did to my best friend, Brooke, the summer before high school. Hunter took her to the lake, promising a make-out session she would never forget. Once they had gotten to second base, and both of their shirts were hanging on the branches of the tree near the water, he pulled out one of those cheap, disposable cameras, and snapped a few pictures before she realized what he was doing.

  A set up, not a make-out session. She was horrified, and ultimately humiliated, by the wildfire spread of those topless pictures. She was painfully aware of how foolish she had been, and was too scared to demand the pictures back from him. So, I confronted him. He shamelessly admitted he had a collection of girls he had snapped without their shirts, and smiled that cocky grin of his while offering to add me to his photo album. I kicked him in the nuts, and he’d avoided me ever since.

  “As I remember, my comebacks weren’t what bothered you, it was my foot.”

  He took a step back, his smile gone, and his eyebrows lifted.

  Good, I have the upper hand here.

  “Now, tell me what the hell you’re doing in here,” I demanded.

  “Measuring for the new owner. He wants new shelves.”

  “He’s only been gone two weeks, for God’s sake! Have a little respect.” I threw my bag on the small couch, and crossed my arms.

  “I’m just doing what I’m told,” he said, rolling up a measuring tape and clipping it back on his belt. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Still a feisty one, aren’t ya?”

  I didn’t feel the need to reply. He was an ass…and my comebacks really did suck. “Wait, how did you recognize me so quickly?”

  “Henry liked to show off pictures, and they’re hanging all over the place,” he said, pointing to the wall.

  My eyes traveled along the walls. Where did he get these? He wasn’t present for my high school graduation, but he had pictures of me in my cap and gown, and one of me holding up my college acceptance letter. My mother had taken that picture.

  Hunter interrupted my thoughts. He brushed by me, but stopped short of the door. I kept my body still, hoping ignoring him would make him just go away.

  “It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy that you remembered me so fast, too.” He paused, looking me up and down. “You look good, Jade,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll be around.”

  His huge grin pissed me off. How could anyone be so cocky? His penis was probably covered in multiple STDs. I shuddered at the thought.

  Once the front door shut, I forced my mind back to the task at hand. The sooner I got this done, the faster I could get out of there. I walked up to the small, flat screen TV to turn it on for background noise. The screen stayed black except for the “No Service” in green letters.

  Well, shit.

  I couldn’t find a radio anywhere, and my phone’s speakers wouldn’t be loud enough. I’d never felt claustrophobic before, but the longer I stayed in there without noise, the more certain I was the walls were closing in on me. It could have been the fact that the trailer wasn’t very big, and the stench of Hunter’s cologne was lingering in the stale air. I flew out the front door, almost missing the steps altogether, taking in deep breaths. I needed to talk to someone, anyone. My mom was the first person who came to mind.

  Thankfully, she answered on the first ring. “Hey, Mom. How’s it going?”

  “Good, but I should be asking you the same thing.”

  “Okay, I guess,” I lied. “It’s weird. I went into the trailer just now.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Did you know Dad had pictures of me?”

  She paused. “Yes.”

  “Where did he get them? I thought you hadn’t seen him since he left us?”

  I could hear her take a deep breath. She didn’t want to answer me, or she knew I wouldn’t like her answer.

  “I sent them to him. He loved you, and even though you refused to talk to him, I still wanted him to know what you were up to.”

  Nope, I didn’t like that answer. “Why didn’t you ask me? I mean, he left. He had no right to know about me.”

  She sighed. “Can we talk about this when you get back? I have to get back to work.”

  “No! I want to talk about this now,” I spat out, letting the anger get the best of me.

  “Talk to you later,” she said, and hung up.

  My own mother had just hung up on me. I’d seen her do it multiple times to my step-dad, but never me. I attempted to call her back, and was taken straight to voice mail, all three times.

  I turned and looked at the shut front door. I couldn’t go in there again just yet. I needed a break.

  It’s been, what, ten minutes? How are you going to get through this? Headphones. I need my headphones…and some food.

  Knowing I couldn’t leave without my purse, I pulled air into my lungs, along with determination, and ran inside, grabbed my purse and ran back out.

  I felt pathetic.

  Chap

  ter 2

  The resort had a couple of
different places to eat. I picked the restaurant versus the café. Sitting down to eat food off a menu helped me prolong returning, and that sounded like the perfect plan.

  Not too many people occupied the rather large seating area. An older couple I recognized were sitting at a booth against the wall. They stared at me, so they must have recognized me too. I waved, hoping they’d stop staring. The older man waved back, but the lady waved me over. I didn’t want to be rude, and really didn’t have anyone else to talk to, so I made my way over to them.

  “Jade Cummings, right?” the older lady asked me.

  “Yes,” I replied, smiling at her friendly face. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your names.”

  “Don’t be sorry, dear. I’m Bess, and this is my husband, Herbert.”

  “Hello. I remember your faces, but I’m horrible with names. I used to come here with my family.”

  “Yes, I remember,” Herbert said.

  “We were so sorry to hear about what happened to your father, dear. Just a shame, and so young,” Bess said, reaching out for my hand.

  “It still doesn’t seem real,” I said.

  “We ran into Kathy just this morning. She hopes you find the time to have a chat with her before you leave.”

  Herbert nodded in agreement.

  Hearing someone other than my mom say her name made me feel queasy. The name Kathy, to me, was the equivalent to saying the f-bomb. Not only did I never want to lay eyes on the woman my father left us for, but I was certain my fist would collide with her face.

  I plastered on a fake smile. “That would be nice.”

  “Don’t lie to us, dear,” Bess smiled. “She knows you have ill feelings towards her and your father.”

  She seemed to know more than I thought a stranger would. Maybe she was friends with my dad? Or worse...Kathy. I tilted my head to the side, not sure if I should ask her to tell me more.

  “Maybe speaking to her will give you some closure, since you weren’t able to get it from your father?”