If We Love Again
A Mandarin Bay Novel - Book 1
A mid-life divorce has Jennifer King starting over as a first-time career woman in her own new home in Mandarin Bay. A home with a mortgage. Her situation isn’t what she expected or wanted, but her motivation to succeed burns within.
Adam Miller, long-time resident and widower, is ready to begin socializing again several years after losing his wife. When he meets Jennifer at an informal tennis match, memory stirs in each of them to a time and place when life was much simpler. No interfering children. No financial conflicts. No nasty ex-husband.
It's a lot to deal with, but living among supportive friends in Mandarin Bay can work wonders. Libby Burman, the outspoken person on the Welcome Committee, will make sure of that!
Chapter One
With a big shopping bag of welcome-to-the-neighborhood goodies over her left arm, Libby Burman knocked on the door of Mandarin Bay’s newest resident. She was ready to meet and greet, and present the community at its best. Newcomers needed to feel comfortable, and Libby wanted to make that happen. She hoped each one would come to love living there as much as she did.
“Hang on a minute,” came the female voice from inside the house. “I have to move some boxes.”
Of course, she did, thought Libby, chuckling quietly. The woman—Jennifer King was her name—certainly had cartons, bags and boxes. That’s what moving day was all about. Loads of stuff, half of which wouldn’t be needed at all.
Sixty-five years of living had given Libby the opportunity to observe her fellow humans. Overpacking was definitely a common thread even when downsizing. People just couldn’t seem to part with stuff.
The door opened, and a pair of hazel eyes below blond bangs met Libby’s gaze. “Hi, there. Welcome to my mess.” The woman smiled, gathered her hair into a rubber band at her nape, and pulled the door open wider. Indeed, a challenge waited inside for someone with organizational skills. “I’m Jennifer King, by the way, but I also answer to Jenny, Mom and when the baby is older, Grandma. My friends call me Jen.”
“Then I’ll jump right in, Jen. Welcome to Mandarin Bay. I’m Libby Burman from the Welcome Committee, and I’ll answer any questions you might have and share some practical goodies like”—she looked into her bulging bag—"umm…a roll of toilet paper! How’s that for a start?”
“Just perfect,” replied the woman with a laugh as she accepted the gift. “Come in, come in.”
It was one of the smaller homes but spacious because of the open layout. Libby gazed around her. “You chose one of my favorite models, Jen. Lots of elbow room. I’ve lived in the community for several years now, so I’m pretty familiar with all the house plans.”
The woman beamed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m a Realtor, and it would be just awful if I didn’t choose well for myself. Especially as it’s my first home as a single woman. The first I’ve chosen alone.”
Libby nodded and now noticed the faint white circle on Jennifer’s fourth finger where a wedding band must have rested. “So, you’re starting over, hmm?” Divorced. The gal didn’t have the sad aura of recent widowhood, and most widows Libby knew still wore their rings—including her own daughter.
Jen’s smile disappeared. “Well put. Yes, you’re right. Starting over is exactly what I’m doing. On my own.”
Didn’t seem she had a choice. “New beginnings are great, but you don’t have to do everything alone. Want some help with the unpacking?”
“Really? Are you one of Santa’s elves?”
“Oh, I’m going to like you,” said Libby with a full-throated laugh. “If I were an elf working on the Fourth of July weekend, I’d demand overtime! Nope, not an elf. I’m just Elizabeth Burman—known as Libby—a tennis, mah-jongg and canasta player, chorus and book club member, in addition to wife, mother and grandmother. So, welcome to your new home, Jennifer King. I hope you’ll be very happy here and join the activities.”
The woman’s cheerful smile became sober. “I hope so too,” she replied quietly before adding, “if I have the time.” She cocked her head and asked, “I imagine you know a lot of the residents…?”
“Sure, I do,” replied Libby. “Don’t be concerned, everyone’s friendly. I can introduce—”
“Hang on a minute.” Jen darted into another room and quickly returned with a packet of cards in her hand. “I have to work to support myself now, so Libby, if you really want to help out, could you pass out my business cards to your friends. I’m a fully licensed Realtor affiliated with REALSTAR corporation. I spend most of my time there, but I also have a home office. I can be reached wherever I am, whenever I’m needed.”
For the second time, Libby detected anxiety behind the cheerful demeanor. She reached for the woman’s cards. “Of course, I can distribute them, and I’ll be happy to do it.” She paused. “You know, I think living among the active retirees on this side of the lake will suit you perfectly. You’re one of our younger ones, but not the only one still earning a living or”—she nodded at a large tennis tote against the wall sitting right next to a golf bag loaded with clubs”—“playing a mean game of tennis.” Libby poked herself in the chest with her thumb. “Tennis—that’s me. Love the game and how it keeps me in shape.” She put her hand to the side of her mouth and whispered loudly, “I hate going to a gym!”
Jen beamed. “We are on the same page! I’ve already signed up for the social tournament this weekend. A friendly event, right?”
“Yep. And I’ll be playing too!” said Libby. “You know,” she continued, “tennis is a great way to meet folks. Maybe … a new, hmm … social life?” Hint, hint and hopefully tactful.
“Good try, but I can see right through you,” said Jen, shaking her head. “Definitely not interested. Tennis is my game and a great way to burn off energy. For fun and something new, I’ll try pickleball—if I have time.”
Libby waved at the boxes on the floor. “And what about putting all this away? I can give you an hour.”
“Thanks. That’s really generous of you, but you’re off the hook. I’ve got my own elf coming to help out … if she remembers.”
“It’s a gorgeous community, Mom, with all the palm trees, oaks, and grassy berms lining the streets, but the name … Silver Lakes Drive? You’re living on a street for old people? I don’t get it. I’m telling you this is wrong. You’re young … you’re active … you’re so pretty. Dad was so in love with you … still … is …” Her voice ended on an up-note. A question.
Jennifer’s heart ached as she listened to her daughter, but didn’t interrupt her own work, lining the kitchen drawers. It seemed that for children, no age was the right age to accept divorce. Megan was twenty-six. An adult. A grown-up in so many other ways, but not this.
“You’re right about a couple of things, Megan. Mandarin Bay is a beautiful property with loads of activities. It has a large clubhouse, a couple of pools, tennis and pickleball courts and, believe it or not, families of sandhill cranes choose to live among us! They strut around like they own the place.” She turned to her daughter and flashed her a wide smile. “I’m going to love it here.”
“Just listen to you! Mandarin Bay is a beautiful property.” Megan air quoted. “A beautiful property? You sound like a real estate broker who’s trying to sell me a house.”
Jennifer inhaled deeply. They’d been so close, such a loving mother-daughter duo until recent times. She had to choose her words carefully. Had to keep a positive attitude and a realistic one.
“Sweetheart, I am a real estate agent now. And I will be showing Mandarin Bay to potential buyers in the near future.” I hope. “So, just pretend I’m practicing on you. And one more thing. I don’t live with old people. I live among active seniors!”
“Not even funny, but it’s a great pitch for home buyers. I guess.”
Her daughter sounded miserable, but Jen couldn’t indulge her for both their sakes. Reality was important now. “If it makes you feel any better, honey, Mandarin Bay has a larger section for younger families across the central lake. All ages live in Mandarin Bay.”
Megan shook her head. “I just can’t believe what’s happening to our family.”
Jen forced a wide smile. “Look ahead, Meggie, not backwards. Now, let’s finish picking up the kitchen, and I’ll treat you to lunch at the bistro.”
“Lunch? If you can afford to treat, then Dad’s alimony can’t be too stingy … Right?”
And here we go again. “According to the courts, it was … fair. Have you ever heard me complain about it?” And she never would. The kids had enough to adjust to, and she wouldn’t add fuel to the fire, even though unfair was the politest word she could use about the settlement. The big powerhouse she’d married had thought he was untouchable. Gambling debts, however, come due sooner or later. Online gaming, Vegas trips, local casinos. Not to mention other women. All funded from their personal savings. Stupid, innocent Jen had worn blinders for years.
Megan stepped into the dining area. “Oh! You’ve got our old graduation pictures out. All three of us. Are you planning on hanging them?”
“Of course, I am. Front and center on that living room wall. I want my family around me.”
“We’re not the whole family, Mom.” Her daughter’s green eyes, so like her own, had darkened.
“Your dad will always be your dad, Megan,” she said quietly. “And I’m sure he’ll keep your pictures on his wall too. But he’s no longer part of my everyday life.” And why couldn’t her smart, professional, grown-up daughter understand that?
“Logan loves working with Dad,” said Megan, a lovely smile transforming her expression. “They’ve gotten close, and I had such happy dreams that after we married, we’d all be one big family.”
“Then bring him around, honey,” she replied quickly. “Logan will always be welcome here. You know I like him. Smart and hardworking.” She lowered her voice. “Most important … he can’t take his eyes off you. And you’re just as bad!” Keep it light and focus on Megan. “I see you guys holding hands and how he looks at you.” Finally, a giggle, a blush. Her daughter loved the guy, and Jen would, too, as long as he didn’t follow in Cameron’s footsteps in everything her ex-husband did.
