Writing for engagement: Cabot's Cove - image 1 - student project

Primary audience. Adult Mystery/Paranormal/Romance

Blurp

Arabelle and Dae lose their business and livelihood during Covid and inherit a house from a mysterious aunt they didn't know about in a little town you can't find on a map. Is it too good to be true? Is this a new start to a new life or something else?

***

Dae and Arabelle find themselves up a creek without a paddle when Arabelle's business of twenty years folds after Covid, and the new franchise across the street forces her to close.
Despite the kind help offered by a friend, this mother and daughter do not want to be a burden to others, and they accept a mysterious inheritance that will take them away from the city and to a small town called Cabot's Cove.
Will they find happiness, or is this offer, just as Abraham feared, too good to be true?
Right from the start, Cabot's Cove and its inhabitants prove to be a little isolated, strange, and a mysterious if not almost hostile, except for the lawyer, Mrs. Abernathy. Just like everything about their aunt Arebelliana's life and whatever happened between Christina and her to drive them apart.

The mystery deepens as more characters enter the scene, and it appears the town has a secret they're hiding from its two newest members.

What will happen when Arabelle and Dae learn the truth of Cabot's cove and the secret that will alter their lives forever?

Nothing in the little town is as it seems, and the truth may be stranger than fiction.

Had they just become part of a scary conspiracy, or a wonderful new world filled with possibilities they've never imagined?

Come along with Arabelle and Dae to discover the secrets of Cabot's Cove and Arabelliana's legacy.

Excerpt:

Prologue

Dae watched Abraham put a chain around the handles of Patisserie Arabelle's door, and her heart broke to see her mother so defeated.

The strong, soft-spoken woman devoted twenty years to this dream, and in the last two years, they had to watch it fall apart little by little until nothing remained.

Abraham turned to face them; his denim-blue eyes filled with unshed tears, and Anabelle offered him the white envelope containing the last two months' worth of rent.

It was almost the last of their money.

Abraham extended his large hand and folded Arabelle's trembling fingers around the envelope.

"No, daughter," the elderly Jewish man said, "you keep that. You need it more than I do."

A sob escaped her, and he folded Arabelle into a fatherly embrace.

If not for this man and his wife, Sera, there would have been no Patisserie Arabelle to begin with.

"I cannot take it, Abraham. You and Sera did so much for me," she said, leaving a wet spot against his white shirt.

The word Sera still had the power to shrink him, even after two years. His wife had been one of the first to fall to this "cursed illness," as he called it.

Dae wiped her cheeks with her sleeve, trying to hold her emotions in check.

***

Arabelle started baking at home when she was sixteen. She used to sell her wares on the street, then worked herself up to a hired cart and eventually bought the cart.

Abraham saw her potential, and since he and Sera had no children or family, they adopted Abigail in a way. Her triumphs were theirs, and so were her defeats.

"I wish you would stay. Let me help you start over?" he offered for the tenth time.

"We talked about this, Abraham," Arabella said gently, but Dae heard the tightness in her mother's voice as they all instinctively turned to face the end of the street where that gleaming edifice of the "Bakery Emporium" franchise mocked them, "but there's no competing with that."

"Are you on your way to that lawyer?"

Abraham's discomfort with the idea showed in the crease between his thick mahogany brows and the turned-down edges of his mouth.

"Yes."

He found this long-lost aunt, the house in this little coastal town no one has ever heard of, and the two-year contract to remain there before they could take possession of the house and a "paltry inheritance," as the British-sounding lawyer described it over the phone, a bit suspicious.

Dae and Arabelle were dubious too, but the email contained too much evidence for this to be a hoax, and what would anyone want with two broke women in some tiny town?

Anyway, they had nowhere else to go. As it were, they were evicted from their apartment the night before and had to sell their things to scrape together the rent owed to this kind man, which left them with three suitcases stuffed with clothes and an ancient laptop.

"Thank you for this, Abraham, and for everything that you and Sera did for Dae and me," Arabelle said, and his bottom lip trembled.

"Let me take care of you. I am an old man with no one to call my own. Everything I have will one day go to charity. There's an open apartment on the floor below mine, and knowing your pride, I will help you start over, and you can pay me back," he almost pleaded. "Sera will never forgive me for letting you go to that place."

"That is so kind and generous of you, and if there were a future for us here, I would take you up on your offer. But how long will it be before another one of those monstrosities pops up wherever we relocate in this growing city?

"I do not have the heart to invest myself in something again and watch it slowly die. I loved this neighborhood. It was safe and family-friendly, someplace where Dae had a future. That is no longer true."

She stepped closer to him and took his hands in hers.

"I will call you if anything's questionable about this, and you can fetch us yourself," she promised, letting him go so he could say goodbye to Dae.

"Come here, munchkin," he said as if she were still four, and with a tiny sad smile, Dae walked into his arms, and he hugged her to him as if he would never let go.

She could not picture her life without this kind, grandfatherly man. How many days had Sera and Abraham welcomed her into their house when Arabelle couldn't find a babysitter?

They were family, and leaving Abraham behind didn't feel right, but this city had changed over the years, and soon there would be no more mom-and-pop stores in this neighborhood.

He kissed her on the top of her head, and the familiar gesture bled warm tears down her cheeks again.

"Oh, little one, how I'll miss you," he said, letting go of her.

"And I'll miss you too, Grandpa Abe."

She hadn't called him that in years, and his gaze softened.

"Be careful and call me when you arrive."

The taxi pulled up to the curb, and the driver helped them load their stuff.

"Is this everything?" Jay helpfully asked, and Arabelle and Dae glanced at each other.

"Yes, that's everything."

A lifetime in three mid-sized trolley suitcases.

"It isn't too late to change your mind," Abraham tried one last time, seeming somehow a little lost and forlorn.

It tore at Dae to get in that car and watch him get smaller through the rear window until they turned the corner.

"Are we doing the right thing?" she asked, turning toward Arabelle.

There was no doubt that they were mother and daughter, but the influence of Dae's father gave her gray, almost silvery eyes and light streaks in her dark blond hair, while Arabella's mid-brown hair contrasted with blue-green eyes that reminded her of the ocean, although she'd never actually seen it.

She was sixteen when she outgrew her petite mother, and at nineteen, she was a foot taller. Hers was a more athletic build, while Arabella was curvier.

"I have no idea."

"Why didn't you tell Abraham about Bernadette?" she asked as the taxi wound its way toward the bus terminal.

"Abraham has not spoken to his adopted sister since Sera died. After the stunt she pulled to try and get him declared unfit to see to his own welfare, he has written her off, but she's still trying to get at his money. I will not be the weapon she uses to defeat him, not after everything he did for us. Let her overplay her hand; she will soon discover that even gentle people have another side to them."

"I can't believe she said what she did."

She folded her arms around herself, and Arabelle nodded.

"Being that vindictive and sick in the brain is punishment enough. Forget about her and her schemes. She will not win, and when she finally meets his ire, she'll realize her mistake too late."

"Do not be too concerned with Bernadette and her schemes or worry about Abraham. He knows her better than she realizes," Jay said.

He used to be a regular: strong black coffee and a croissant every morning for ten years, but more than that, he lived around the corner from them for as long as Dae could remember.

"We will miss you. The missus and I talked about it this morning when the address came through. This is a bad business. My sister closed her salon just last week; she's now working across the street at that big place."

He wasn't happy about it.

Missy was an amazing stylist, and she wouldn't be happy in such a structured environment. It hurt Dae's heart.

"Sorry to hear that, Jay," she said, and he nodded.

"We do what we must. Know where you're going yet?" he asked.

"Some small town on the coast," Arabella said vaguely, and Day's brow crinkled.

Why did this Cabot Cove feel like such a secret? A mystery wrapped in an enigma shrouded in something that happened in the past. What would make two sisters not speak to each other until the day they died?

As an only child who always wanted a sibling, she couldn't understand such a thing.

"Here we are. Don't forget about us," Jay said as Arabella dug through her purse.

"No charge. It's a sad day to see Arabelle Massey leave us, never to return. Your family lived here for so many years, and we watched you both grow up before our eyes. Let me get your things."

"Thank you, Jay, but I..."

He waved her off as he put the bags on the pavement, and they got their stuff.

"My wife will never forgive me if I charge you. She still remembers how many times you gave Junior a scone after school when I wasn't working yet. Go in peace, Arabelle. You remain in the hearts of many."

He nodded at them, got in his car, and drove off, leaving them sniffling.

"Heavens, it's harder to leave than I thought, drama and all," Arabelle said, wiping her face with a tissue, her nose red and a sad smirk on her face.

"Neither of us has ever been outside of this town," Dae reminded, and a chill wind touched the back of her neck, making her shudder. "Maybe we shouldn't go."

"That's our bus. Come on, it will be an adventure, and with Abraham's generosity, we don't have to worry about our finances for a couple of months."

Cristal Sieberhagen

Author and artist.

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