Free Island Girl by Lynda Simmons

barber’s chair. She rolled her eyes and dragged her heels on her way to the chair, but she sat. Of course if looks could kill and all of that, but I was still impressed. I could never get Liz to do anything at that age.
    “Hi,” Grace said, and grinned at her. “I’m Grace. Would you like tea?”
    Jocelyn turned to her dad. “Who is this person?”
    “Your new nanny.” He smiled at Grace. “If you’re up for the job.”
    Jocelyn was out of the chair and in his face so fast I swear those boots didn’t touch the floor along the way. “I don’t need a nanny.”
    “She’s right,” Grace said. “But maybe she could use a friend.”
    Jocelyn laughed. “What is this? An after-school special? Or maybe one of those gotcha shows with hidden cameras and geeks like her trying to make a fool of you.”
    “I’m not making a fool of anyone,” Grace said. “I’m making breakfast. Want some?”
    Jocelyn turned to her father. “You can’t make me stay here.”
    He sighed. “Jocelyn, you’re twelve and I’m your father, which means I can indeed make you stay here. Why not give it a chance? You might like it.”
    “I hate it already, and I hate you too. I do not want to live here.”
    “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you,” I said. “You can’t just live on the Island because you feel like it. You have to be on the list. Takes years to get a house.”
    “Only if you’re buying, which I’m not,” Mark said. “I’m renting. Actually, I’m house-sitting for a buddy.”
    “What buddy?”
    Grace handed him a cup of coffee with cream in it. I couldn’t believe she remembered after all this time. “You want toast with that?” she asked.
    “If you’re having some.”
    “We just frigging ate,” Jocelyn said.
    “I had a bagel.” He turned back to Grace. “If you’re having toast, I’ll join you.”
    I held up my hands. “Can we focus for a moment? What buddy are you talking about?”
    “Seth Harrison. You know Seth. Tall, dark, used to be handsome.”
    “Of course I know Seth. I see him all the time. And he’s still handsome. Are you telling me the two of you are friends?”
    “Beer and wings every Friday night. Our twentieth anniversary is coming up soon. I should get him something nice.”
    I was completely confused and it had nothing to do with Big Al. “I need a straight answer. What are you doing on the Island?”
    “He paid some guy to let us live in his house for the summer,” Jocelyn said. “He thinks it will be good for me. And for some reason he brought you a gift. It’s outside on the step.”
    “Oooooh, what is it?” Grace asked, already opening the door and bringing in a box wrapped in red paper. “It’s heavy.” She held the box out to me. “Heavy is good.”
    I shook my head. “I can’t accept it whatever it is.”
    “Of course you can,” Mark said. “Grace, open it for her.”
    She was on the floor, ripping off paper before I could say “Don’t you dare.”
    “It’s a bottle of pomegranate juice and a box of magazines.” She glanced up at Mark. “What are they?”
    “What do you mean what are they? Can’t you read?” Jocelyn snatched a handful of magazines out of the box. “We’ve got crossword puzzles, brainteasers, connect-the-frigging dots.” She handed them all back to Grace. “Nothing but boring crap.”
    “They’re not boring,” Mark said. “And they’re not for you anyway.”
    “Thank God.” She slumped against the door and gave me a once over. “Who are you anyway?”
    “An old friend,” Mark and I said together.
    “They used to be lovers,” Grace whispered.
    Jocelyn winced. “That is so gross. Can I leave now?”
    “Absolutely,” I told her. “Mark, will you join me outside a moment?”
    “Sure.” He set his empty cup on the table and pointed a finger. “Jocelyn, you be nice.”
    The girl dropped her head back, muttered something about hell on the water, then smacked the puzzle book Grace was holding out to her,