Beach House

Sally John

Description

The first release in The Beach House series is the story of four women, friends from childhood, who reunite to celebrate their fortieth birthdays. After the distance of time and geography, they look forward to the camaraderie of old friends and the escape from everyday life as they stay at a San Diego beach house. When thoughts and discussion turn to the history of their friendship, will problems of the past threaten to overtake the present? The quest for understanding, identity, faith, and friendship provides a universal thread in this tender and charming story from Sally John that will connect with women from all walks of life.

Sujets

• Romance

Informations

• Publié par: Harvest House Publishers
• Date de parution: 01 janvier 2006
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9780736934770
• Langue: English

Extrait

HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS EUGENE, OREGON
Scripture verses were taken from The Jerusalem Bible, Copyright 1966 by Darton, Longman Todd, Ltd. and Doubleday Company, Inc., all rights reserved; from the New English Bible, copyright Oxford University Press and Cambridge University Press 1961, 1970, all rights reserved; from the New American Standard Bible , 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission ( www.Lockman.org ); from The Living Bible , Copyright 1971.Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, IL 60189 USA, all rights reserved; and from the King James Version of the Bible.
Cover by Garborg Design Works, Minneapolis, Minnesota
Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard Street, Ste #200, Colorado Springs, CO 80920
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
THE BEACH HOUSE
Copyright 2006 by Sally John
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
John, Sally, 1951-
The beach house / Sally John.
p. cm.-(The beach house series ; bk. 1)
ISBN-13: 978-0-7369-1316-4 (pbk.)
ISBN-10: 0-7369-1316-5 (pbk.)
1. Women--California--Fiction. 2. San Diego (Calif.)--Fiction. 3. Female
friendship--Fiction. 4. Seaside resorts--Fiction. I. Title. II. Series.
PS3560.O323B43 2006
813 .54-dc22
2005020521
All rights reserved . No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other-except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Printed in the United States of America
06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 / BC-KB / 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Contents
Acknowledgments
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three
Forty-Four
Forty-Five
Forty-Six
Forty-Seven
Forty-Eight
Forty-Nine
Fifty
Fifty-One
Fifty-Two
Fifty-Three
Fifty-Four
Fifty-Five
Fifty-Six
Fifty-Seven
Fifty-Eight
Fifty-Nine
Sixty
Sixty-One
Sixty-Two
Sixty-Three
Epilogue
Grandm re Babette s List
Discussion Questions
Other Books by Sally John
About the Author
For
Aliah Claire John
Welcome, sweetheart
Acknowledgments
As is true with all my stories, this one is the result of a joint venture. My heart overflows with gratitude to the following-
My readers : You are incredibly beautiful. Your gracious encouragement undergirds me day after day.
Contest respondents : Reading your real-life stories about fortieth birthdays was sheer delight. I laughed and cried and found a common thread. It was a turning point, either remembered by those over forty or anticipated by those not yet there. Thank you for the peek into your hearts. They are gold mines of feminine wisdom.
The suggestions for character names were much appreciated as well and carried me way beyond name your baby books. I used names provided by Carol L. Hoefs, Peggy McShane, Sherrie Kuster Burton , and Peggy Hadacek .
Bill and Jane Hull : for sharing your lives with us in so many ways, not the least of which has been through words, especially those Hull-isms.
Trisha Owens and Joyce Lax : for introducing me to reflexology, patiently answering questions, and keeping my nerves in order.
Kim Moore and Gene Skinner : for sashimi .
Harvest House : for the whole range of your tireless efforts toward excellence in editing, marketing, page and cover design, and sales. What a privilege to be part of the family!
Kim the Exceptional Editor Moore : for knowing my characters better than I do myself and for taking such extraordinary editorial care of them.
My family
Sandy Carlson: for real-life research.
Tracy John: for boogie boarding and brainstorming.
Elizabeth John : for volleyball, a myriad of other researched information, and a last-minute, first-class editing job.
Christopher and Tracy: for introducing me to the Northwest.
Tim, Christopher, Tracy , and Patti John : for first read-through, critiques, and support.
And Tim , my anchor, for giving me San Diego.
The Beach House Ladies

Jo Zambruski
Lives in California; single; OB/GYN doctor
Char Wilcox
Lives in the Chicago area; married 17 years to Cam, dentist; mother of Savannah, 15, and Cole, 13; active as volunteer
Andie Sinclair
Lives in Wisconsin; married 20 years to Paul, real estate agent; mother of Jadon, 17, and Zach, 16; reflexologist
Molly Preston
Lives in Oregon; married 12 years to Scott, forester and pastor; mother of Eli, 11; Betsy, 9; Abigail, 7; and Hannah, 5; substitute teacher
Let be then: learn that I am God.
Psalm 46:10
Prologue
May
Del Mar, California
Dr. Josephine Zambruski studied the five-by-seven framed photograph in her hands and tried to remember when she had stopped displaying it on her desk.
Perhaps it was during that idiotic redecorating phase that had taken hold of her like a bad perm. There was no escape. She had to play along, even if it meant boxing up her entire past. Chrome sculptures and watercolors were in, funky photos were out.
At least I saved it.
She rose from the floor and stepped around the cartons that cluttered her home office. Settling into her leather desk chair, she propped her bare feet against the desk s edge.
Hi. She spoke softly to the picture still cradled in her hands, to the four young women caught for eternity in the midst of a belly laugh.
Jo smiled as that raucous guffaw echoed in her mind down through the years. How many had it been? She and her friends stood on the sunny steps of Saint Matt s, their childhood suburban Chicago church. Obviously it was the day of Molly s wedding which was when? She glanced at the back of the frame and saw she had written July sixteenth twelve years ago.
The photo drew her attention again. Oh, they had known how to laugh. There was Molly in her billowy white wedding gown of a thousand and one rhinestones, the others in chartreuse taffeta. The bride was inelegantly bent over nearly double and leaning sideways into Jo. Petite Char clung to Molly s other arm, mouth wide as all outdoors. Gangly Jo, with toothy grin and eyes squinted, hung on to Andie s shoulder. Redheaded Andie clasped her hands at her chest, eyes large as saucers and lips forming a giant O .
A feeling of homesickness swept over her.
What a bunch of sentimental hooey!
Jo chuckled in surprise. The phrase was trademark Molly. Char would have responded with Sugar, you ve got your heartstrings all crisscrossed with your brain. Andie would have gripped Jo s arm, tears pooling in her eyes, and said she knew exactly what she meant.
Where had the dozen years gone?
She swiveled around and gazed through the large window behind the desk. The scene included the early evening sky, the Pacific Ocean, and little else. Miles separated her from the beach, but the home s hillside perch eliminated other houses and much of the lush vegetation from view.
She watched the sun touch the water. The notion struck her that that was where the years had gone. Simple arithmetic. Twelve times 365 equaled one day at a time, melding into a blur of cross-country moves, work, and-for the other three-marriage and motherhood. Only the sending and receiving of annual, all-purpose Christmas notes broke the continuum.
The homesick feeling returned. She suspected it was more than sentimental hooey. Somewhere in the last twelve years she had lost touch with a basic part of herself. Was that why she had stopped displaying the photo? Because to look at her friends was to know something was missing from her life?
The thought struck a hopeful chord. If that were so, then the time had come to remedy the situation.
They would love her ocean view. Better yet, they would love the beach down in San Diego. They could rent a place near the sand and go barefoot and remember when dreams tickled their imaginations.
As the sun set on Jo s fortieth birthday, she reached for her address book.
One
September 24
A Chicago suburb, Illinois
When her teenage daughter created a scene in the master bedroom at 7:10 on Tuesday morning, Charlaine Wilcox stopped folding the turquoise silk blouse. It lay half in and half out of the suitcase while she glided her tongue along the backs of her teeth. Slowly , she commanded herself. Feel each individual tooth bump the flatness of the front ones. Top row. Bottom row.
Any old body can count to ten, her mama-God rest her soul-had said on more than one occasion. Georgia-born-and-bred Ellen Cummins Stowe n e Wentworth learned the gliding trick from her own mama, Edith Huntington Wentworth n e Cummins. Women in the family controlled their tongues. They did not spout off in anger like common riffraff. They did not even raise their voices much above a soft whisper.
Mom!
Char sighed inwardly. The legacy hadn t quite taken hold of fifteen-year-old Savannah Stowe Wilcox yet.
Char glanced at her daughter. I said no.
You are such a flaming fossil! Her voice screeched her pet phrase of the week. Dad said this outfit looks great!
Savannah, sugar, your daddy can t see for beans at six-thirty in the morning. She resumed folding the blouse as she spoke. I am a bit concerned