Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Brax
* * *
THE SEASIDE CHRONICLES
July 6, 2023
TIDE’S OUT
Seasiders,
This is probably the hardest column I’ve written to date. You may have noticed my columns have been…changing, if that’s the right word to use. The love I once felt for writing these weekly “informational” pieces has been slowly slipping away. As much as I love a good gossip piece, this writer is finding herself at a crossroads in her life. Do I keep doing the weekly column and special editions, potentially upsetting my subjects, or do I move on to the next chapter in my life? I do believe it’s the latter. It’s time I slide my pen and paper into a desk drawer and go out with the tide.
I have faith that whatever column replaces mine, you will all adore it as much as you have adored me. Plus, you’ll still have Friday’s Catch, and I have to admit, Braxton Bradley does add his trademark humor to it, which makes it rather enjoyable to read. (Though I’m not sure if he’ll be able to keep that up when I’m no longer dangling at the end of his fishing pole.)
At any rate, I want to say thank you for being such loyal readers. I hope you know that I truly love Seaside and each and every one of you. Well…maybe not every one of you, but I do like most of you. I’ll miss keeping you up to date with my version of the news, but never fear, my fishes, I’ll still be around, watching and listening!
For the last time…
Fair winds and following seas!
Ms. Seaside
* * *
The doorbell ringing combined with a loud knocking sound caused Harlee to fly out of bed. “What is that?”
I swung my legs off my side of the bed and stood. “Someone’s at the door.”
I started for the bedroom door, but stopped when Harlee called out, “Brax, you’re naked!”
With a quick glance down, I laughed. “Oh yeah.”
After slipping on sweats and a T-shirt, I made my way to the front door and the loud knocking that wouldn’t stop. Harlee and I were taking the next few days off to go to Boston. We had yet to plan a honeymoon, and since we were smack in the middle of our summer season, we were booked solid with charters. Still, we both needed some time away, even if it was a short trip.
“I’m going to kill whoever this is,” I muttered—before I looked out and saw Palmer standing there. “Somehow, I knew it was going to be her.”
I hadn’t even fully opened the door when she pushed inside.
“She’s quitting!” Palmer shouted. “She’s actually quitting!”
Staring at her like she’d lost her damn mind, I asked, “Who is?”
Lifting the paper, she shook it in my face. “Ms. Seaside! She announced it in today’s paper!”
I knew I was looking at my sister with a face full of genuine disbelief. Harlee hadn’t mentioned anything to me about this being her last column.
“What’s with all the yelling?” Harlee asked as she appeared in the living room.
Turning, I gave her a questioning look. She ignored me and focused on Palmer. The little minx.
“Ms. Seaside is hanging up the column,” Palmer said. “She’s done! She’s not writing for The Chronicles anymore.”
With wide, surprised eyes, Harlee took the paper Palmer nearly shoved in her face. “Why would she do that?”
Palmer threw her hands up. “How am I supposed to find out who Mrs. Pritcher is dating? And what about that house on Captain’s Row that sold to some millionaire? She was supposed to find out who it was! I still say it’s Taylor Swift, by the way.”
I groaned while Harlee chuckled.
“And what about her hinting that she ate at Pete’s Place once a week? Oh my gosh—she’s not going to be writing about the babies!”
“Babies?” Harlee and I asked at the same time.
It was right then that Harlee’s cell phone rang. It was plugged in on the kitchen counter, so she went and retrieved it. “It’s Sutton. Hello? Yes, we heard. No, Palmer’s here. Yes. No—wait! Sutton! Wait, we’re leaving for Boston and—” She pulled her phone away from her ear, then looked at me. “Well, apparently Sutton is on her way.”
“Here?” I asked.
Harlee nodded.
Palmer started to pace. “Addie and Sutton must be beside themselves.”
“I’ll get some coffee on,” Harlee said as she winked at me.
“Why would they be, Palmer?” I dropped onto the sofa and scrubbed a hand down my face.
Palmer stopped and looked at me like I’d hit my head. “Ms. Seaside isn’t going to write about the babies. I mean, it’s practically a family tradition for the Bradleys to be featured in her column! And now the poor babies won’t get that.”
I stared at my sister in disbelief. “You hate being talked about in the column.”
“No, I don’t.”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten.