However, Lydia had just stepped out, but the receptionist knew who Larissa was and quickly escorted her to her room.
Larissa tossed the suitcase on the bed and began unpacking. As she did, she pulled out the Bible she had put in her luggage. She had picked it up from the kitchen counter, where she had left it more than a few weeks ago.
Ever since they started getting ready for Pete’s conference.
Guilt weighed on her soul as she lowered herself to the bed, her Bible in her lap. She was quick enough to pray when she wanted something from God.
Lately she hadn’t been reading the Bible. The inn had absorbed all her time and had taken over all her waking thoughts.
And the past few weeks...so had Garret.
His voice now sounded in her head. I don’t know where the inn quits and you begin.
His words crept around the periphery of her mind accompanied by remorse and self-reproach. She had made the inn a huge focus at the cost of her spiritual life. It had kept her busy.
But she wasn’t busy now and, if things went the way her father and Garret seemed to be hinting at, she might not be busy like that again.
She subdued the fear that spiraled up her throat and turned her attention to the Bible.
The pages flew through her fingers as she sought some scrap of comfort. Some portion of peace. She turned and turned and then she came to a marked spot.
Matthew 6. Part of the Sermon on the Mount.
Larissa read and then a verse jumped out at her. A verse so familiar, so well-known, her eyes almost slipped over it without letting its words register. Then one word caught her attention. Treasure.
She read, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth where moths and vermin destroy.” She stopped there, thinking about the work that had to be done on the inn yet. The slow deterioration of a place that she treasured so much. She eased out a weary smile and carried on. “But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven where moths and vermin do not destroy and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
She lowered the Bible, letting it rest on her lap as the words slowly seeped into her mind, bringing out other emotions. Had she really made the inn more important in her life than God? Had she really made it her treasure? Had she tried to find her worth in that place instead of in her Lord?
Still holding the Bible open on her lap, she let her thoughts go to a place she had never dared travel.
What would her life be without the inn? As she had told Garret it had been so woven in her life she couldn’t see herself apart from it.
But it wasn’t making money.
She thought of Garret’s comment about trying to provide for a family without money. Was he talking about their future? Or about his past?
She looked back down at the passage. Maybe she had made the inn too much of her “treasure.” Maybe she needed to learn to let go. What was more important? Her promise to her mother? Her changing feelings for Garret? Or her relationship with God?
She lowered her head, pressing her hands against her face. Help me to let go of the things I need to let go of, Lord. Help me to trust in You. Help me store up treasures in heaven. With You. And be with Garret. Watch over him. Keep him safe. She wasn’t sure what else to pray for.
She sat a moment, but then felt restless and headed downstairs. Lydia was still gone so Larissa went into the room often referred to as the library. It was more of a sitting room and a tiny one at that, just off the dining room. A row of shelves lined one wall holding a variety of books that, Larissa was sure, hadn’t changed since she was a kid.
She and her mother would visit here from time to time and Larissa always liked checking the bookshelves in the hope that she would find something to pique her interest.
But the room was in an uproar. Books lay in piles on the floor and on the two small tables that flanked a couple of easy chairs. The chairs were also stacked with books. Obviously Lydia thought it was time for an update. Larissa smiled as she walked through the room, noticing books that she remembered reading as a young girl when her mother would come to visit Lydia.
She ran her fingers along the piles on the table, then, as she turned, noticed a number of older photo albums lying in one corner of the room.
She walked over, knelt down and picked one up and flipped it open. Her heart stuttered when she saw her mother smiling out of a picture, her arm flung around Lydia’s shoulders. The palm trees in the background, the line of breaking surf behind them and the turquoise of the water clearly showed Larissa this was not Rockyview.
Her mother wore capris, a bathing suit and the largest sun hat Larissa had ever seen. Probably one of their trips to Mexico, Larissa thought as she sat down on the floor, the album in her lap. She paged past a few more touristy photos—beach pictures, snorkeling and shopping photos.
The photos brought a smile to her lips and a gentle sorrow to her heart. Her mother was so happy. So healthy in these pictures. Larissa checked the dates on the photos, four years before her mother died.
She flipped through the album and then, puzzled, stopped at one of the pages. Her mother was wearing what looked like a hospital gown. An IV was attached to her arm. She sat on the edge of a bed and frowned at the camera, holding her hand up as if in warning.
Had she injured herself on this trip? Larissa couldn’t remember her mother talking about being in a hospital.
Larissa looked more closely at the picture. The room her mother was in looked more like a resort than any hospital Larissa had ever been in.
What was going on?
“Hey, honey, heard you were here,” Lydia’s cheerful voice called out as she entered the room.
Larissa looked up at her mother’s friend. Tall, slender and perpetually young-looking with her highlighted blond hair and tanned skin, Lydia never seemed to age.
“Just got here about forty minutes ago,” Larissa said, slowly getting to her feet, still holding the photo album. “I see you’re doing some changes in here.”
Lydia nodded, but when her eyes dropped to the book Larissa held, her smile drifted away. “Where did you find that?” she asked.
The faint note of panic in her voice only added to Larissa’s confusion.
“Just lying here on the floor,” Larissa said, feeling a beat of guilt. But another glance at the puzzling picture pushed that away. She held up the book, showing Lydia the picture.
“So, what’s happening here? Why is my mother in the hospital? What happened to her? Did she get sick on one of your trips?”
Lydia pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, then slowly lowered herself to the edge of the couch. She sighed lightly and gave Larissa a careful smile.
“You weren’t supposed to see that picture.”
“When was it taken?”
“About eight years ago. Shortly after your mother was diagnosed.”
“Did she have some kind of attack?”
Lydia eased out another sigh as she held her hand out for the album. “No. She didn’t. She was there on purpose.”
Larissa’s puzzlement only grew with each thing Lydia said.
“What happened in Mexico, Lydia? What aren’t you telling me?”
Lydia cleared away some of the books beside her and patted the empty spot. “Sit down, my dear. I need to tell you something very important.”
* * *
Nana sat back in her chair, her hands folded over one another. “What do you think you should do?” she asked, her voice quiet, calm.
Garret leaned forward on Nana’s couch, his elbows resting on his knees, his chin settled on his hands. He looked over at his grandmother and the gentle smile playing over her lips.
“I don’t know. That’s why I came here.”
When Garret left the inn, he had stopped at his apartment, packed a suitcase and was going to drive to Calgary. He had called his financial adviser who asked him to please come and talk to him before he made any rash decisions.
But even before he went to Calgary, he wanted to make another, more important stop. Nana Bond’s place.
All his life Nana had been the voice of sanity and reason in his life. She had been his guiding light, his conscience and spiritual beacon.
Right now he needed all the above to make the right decision.
“I’m going to ask the obvious, but have you prayed about this?”
“I don’t know what I want, so how can I pray?”
“God isn’t a vending machine,” his nana said, her voice holding a gentle note of reprimand. “Prayer is not a matter of choosing what you want and then putting in your request. God wants us to communicate with Him, have a relationship,” his grandmother continued. “Not so He can give us what we want, but so that in the praying we acknowledge where our hope really lies. And right now I’m thinking that part of that hope is wound up in Larissa Weir.”
Garret released a dry chuckle. “A lot of that hope is wound up in her. I love her.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” Nana said. “But I’m not sure why that’s a problem.”
Garret looked over at his grandmother who sat back in her easy chair, her hand resting on the arms, her blue eyes holding his intently.
“Because she wants so badly to keep the inn and I know it can’t support us.”
“I thought things were going well. You were getting busier.”
“I thought so too but the numbers don’t look good. At least according to Orest.”
“You sound skeptical.”
“I don’t trust the guy. I’m so sure the inn can turn a profit, but he’s completely in charge of the bookkeeping.”
“Weren’t you getting an audit done by Albert?”
“We’re supposed to get the results back from him next week.”
“So why don’t you wait until then?”
“Because Jack Weir wants to buy my share of the inn and he wants to close the deal before we see Albert.”
“I understand.” She tapped her fingers. “What do you want to do?”
Garret sighed as his mind shifted back to the conversation he’d just had with Larissa. It was unsatisfying and he’d walked away not sure he’d said or done the right things.
“I want to be with Larissa, but I want to support her. To take care of her. But I also want to make her happy. “
“And you think that means keeping the inn?”
“I think it’s what she thinks. But in order to do that, in order to keep the inn going, I have to sell my investments and plow that money into the inn. And right now is not a good time to sell. I’ll get almost half of what I put in. And I’m not sure it will help.”
His grandmother sighed, then got up and walked over to his side, settling beside him on the couch. She put her arm over his shoulders, like she used to when he was much younger and much smaller. She had to reach up to do it now, though.
“It’s just money, Garret.”
“But I worked so hard to get it together,” he said.
“Did you do it all by yourself?”
Garret felt the faint rebuke in her voice and he knew she was right. While they were growing up his grandparents had always told him that money was a gift and a tool given to them by God. He had heard it but it had never really sunk in. Until now.
“Wouldn’t I be a poor steward if I simply threw good money after bad?” he asked.
“I keep hearing you say that you feel the inn can make you a living. It wouldn’t be poor stewardship if your money could make the difference.”
“Even if I do that, I don’t know if it’s enough to support Larissa. She’s been getting money from her grandparent’s estate. That’s the only way she’s been able to live off what the inn makes.”
“Do you know how much it is? Because from the way she lives, I don’t think she’s spending a lot of money. Her car isn’t exactly top of the line and I never see her in fancy clothes or shoes.”
“I never paid that much attention to the quality of Larissa’s clothes,” Garret said.
“Of course not. You’ve been distracted by other things,” his nana said with a smile. Then she took Garret’s hand in hers. “I think you know what you want to do. And right now, I think you need to let go of the idea that Larissa needs to live a certain way in order for her to be happy. If she really loves you, then it won’t matter how much money you have or don’t have. How much money you make or don’t make,” she said, a stern note in her voice. “Right now I think you’re more concerned about the money than she is.”
Garret nodded, acknowledging the rightness of his grandmother’s comment, so similar to Shannon’s awhile back.
“So. We need to take care of one thing first,” his grandmother said, giving his hand a light shake. “We’re going to pray together and then you’re going to go talk to your money guy. On the drive to Calgary I’m sure you’ll discover what needs to happen.”
Garret looked over at his grandmother and smiled at her. “You’re a blessing to me, you know?”
“I try to be,” she returned with a smile. “And you’ve always been a blessing to me, too.”
Then she covered his other hand with hers and together they bowed their heads and put everything before the Lord.
* * *
Two days later Garret pulled up to the front of the inn. He’d spent the past few days getting everything in order and trying to phone Larissa. But she wasn’t at the inn and she wasn’t answering her cell phone.
He’d gone through all sorts of indecision as he tried to contact her, but in the end he knew what he wanted to do, not only for Larissa, but also for himself.
He walked up the walk, ignoring the windows on the upper floor that needed replacing and the faint sag in the veranda.
All in good time.
He pulled open the door of the inn, feeling a sense of coming home. It made him smile and it gave him the encouragement he needed to do what he had to do.
Thank you, Lord, he prayed as he looked around the lobby of the inn. Sheila looked up at him and waved. He returned her greeting, then walked over to the office door and opened it. On the way he had called and told Jack he would meet him here at the inn.
Garret stifled a jolt of regret as he stepped into the office and saw only Jack behind the desk. Though he had arranged this meeting between him and Jack, a small part of him had hoped Larissa would be there as well.
Still gone. He tried not to get panicky about her lack of communication.
Jack leaned back in his chair, his steepled fingers under his chin. “So, I’m assuming your little trip away from here was to help you make a decision?”
Garret nodded and dropped into a chair across from Jack. “Yes. I had to talk to my financial adviser.”
“And what did he tell you?”
“Before we talk about that, I want to know where Larissa is.”
Jack rocked a moment in his chair. “She needed a break. Too many things happening too quickly.” Then he leveled him a serious look. “Why should I tell you that?”
Garret felt it again. That old feeling of unworthiness. But then he remembered how Jack had kept him and Larissa apart the first time and he knew he wouldn’t be intimidated by this man again. “I love your daughter and I’m doing right by her this time. I’m not giving in to you. I’m not selling my shares of the inn to you. I know that you’ll turn around and sell the inn anyway, but not before you break off a few parcels of the land to subdivide it.”
Jack frowned. “How did you know that?”
“Pete Boonstra told me. Actually he dropped it in passing as I was talking to him yesterday about the real value of the inn.”
“And you needed to know that value because...” Jack frowned at him, waiting.
“Because I’m buying your shares of the inn instead.”
“Why would you want to do that? You know what the financials are and I know that you are a savvy businessman. I know you didn’t make your money by making poor business decisions.” Jack rubbed h
is temple with a forefinger, looking suddenly weary. “I’ve been trying to tell Larissa to let go of this inn for years, but she won’t.” He blew out his breath. “It will suck the life out of both of you, like it did out of my wife. And it won’t make you the money you’re used to as an engineer.”
“You’re right. It won’t, but you know, I’ve learned a few things along the way. To me buying this inn isn’t about choosing money. It’s about choosing to be with the woman I love and to be involved in what she loves. At all costs.”
“Do you think you can give Larissa what she wants this time around?”
Garret hesitated, sending up another prayer for wisdom, for patience and for strength.
“I don’t think Larissa is the girl she used to be and I’m not the man I used to be. But I’m leaving the decision up to Larissa. I’m not assuming what she needs anymore. I’m letting her make up her own mind about what will happen. Whatever she wants to do with this inn, I’ll stand by her. I love her more than I ever thought I could love someone and I believe that covers a lot. I believe, with God’s help, we can make this relationship work.”
Jack looked him in the eye and shrugged. “Maybe you can,” he returned. Then he looked over Garret’s shoulder.
Garret felt a prickling at the back of his neck. When he turned around he saw Larissa standing in the doorway, a suitcase at her feet, her hand over her mouth. From the look in her eyes, he guessed she had heard some of what he said.
His heart turned over in his chest and he walked to her side and took her hands in his. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for the past two days.”
“I left my cell phone here. In the office,” she said, her voice quiet. Then she shook her head, her bright eyes holding his. “That’s not what I wanted to say.”
“Let’s go somewhere else to talk.” He took her arm and led her away from the office and away from her father. They walked out the front door in silence to the bridge over the creek.
He stopped there, still holding her hand, still trying to absorb the fact that she was here. That she had heard the declaration he had wanted to make to her face.
Coming Home: Family Bonds Four Page 17