The Legend Of The Blue Moon

Chapter 1

As I drove down California’s scenic coastal Highway 1, a sign indicated I would hit my hometown of Blue Moon Bay in two miles and I had to fight the urge not to slam on the brakes, do a fast U-turn, and head back home to Sacramento. Although Blue Moon Bay used to be my home, I hadn’t been there since the day I’d left after high school graduation, and I hadn’t planned to come back now. I’d tucked that part of my life away and didn’t like to think about it—ever.

But my grandma’s lawyer had called yesterday, informing me that she’d passed away and had left me controlling interest in her quaint and quirky Inn at Blue Moon Bay. The shocking news of her death had sucked the air out of my chest and left me shaky and weak, reaching out to grab hold of the kitchen counter to keep from spilling to the floor.

How could my grandma be gone? I’d just seen her in Napa last month when we’d celebrated her seventy-second birthday and she’d seemed fine. There hadn’t been one sign that she’d soon drop dead from a heart attack in the middle of her weekly pinochle game.

As I was reeling in my grief, the lawyer proceeded to tell me that the will stated my brother, Brian, and I couldn’t keep the inn. Grandma had apparently added an odd requirement to her will: I had to sell the inn “in person” after running it with my brother for one last month. If I failed to follow those conditions then the inn would be donated to charity and both Brian and I would get nothing. Even if I’d been willing to give up my inheritance—I wasn’t a millionaire or anything but my real estate business was booming—I certainly wouldn’t mess things up for my brother, and my grandma would’ve known that. She obviously had some kind of plan up her sleeve, by forcing my return. Not fair, Grandma. Not fair.

She should’ve just left the inn to Brian, since he was the one who’d stayed with her after I left nine years ago. Last night, I’d talked on the phone with my brother, whose voice sounded hoarse with grief. He’d also sounded upset about our grandma’s decision but mostly the explanation she’d left for him in a letter: she wanted us to sell the inn because I’d have no interest in running it (true enough), and while Brian would, she felt it was time he found his own path (he disagreed). Grandma seemed as pushy from the grave as she had been in life.

I gripped the steering wheel, and my eyes watered. This was the last time my grandma would be bossing us around. She’d believed in hard work and doing your chores, and hadn’t been an emotional person in the slightest. But I’d always known she loved us, even if she hadn’t shown it in an outwardly way. It was hard to believe I’d never see her again.

As I continued down the highway toward the inn and my brother, hot tears slipped down my cheeks and I swiped them away. To help clear my emotions, I cracked the window of my white Mercedes SUV and breathed in the salty sea air—a hint of blooming flowers wafting in as well.

Along with the familiar scent, painful memories from my past overtook me and I shuddered. I’d been enjoying the city life in Sacramento, purposely not looking back to my time in Blue Moon Bay. Grandma hadn’t wanted a memorial service and she’d known I never wanted to come back here again. But she’d mandated that I sell the inn “in person” anyway. Stubborn woman.

My lips twitched as I imagined the crinkle that would be between my grandma’s brows and the stern look she’d be giving me if she were here right now. She’d tell me to stop complaining and do what must be done. End of story. Then I’d do what I wanted, anyway. Like grandma, like granddaughter. I’d apparently inherited her “stubborn” gene. Wow, I really missed her.

I cruised down the gray ribbon of highway by the coastline, and spotted the cheery sign welcoming me to Blue Moon Bay. My throat tightened. Nine years. Had it really been that long? I was barely eighteen when I’d left to start a new life in Sacramento, working as a receptionist in a real estate office to support myself through college. I’d worked hard, too, just like my grandma had taught me, and moved my way up the real estate ladder in record time.