by Andrea Hurst
Dear Maggie,
We sisters rarely see each other anymore, living on separate coasts as we do, but when we chose Madrona Island B&B for our “girls’” escape from our husbands, we made the best choice ever. From your scrumptious breakfasts to your thoughtfulness to every detail, you made our stay a memory we will keep forever. ~Sheila and Marilynn
Maggie remembered the tall sisters with the fantastic senses of humor. Their love for each other had been evident in everything they said and did. She turned a few pages and read on.
As a writer, I am always looking for the perfect setting to inspire me. Your inn, the lovely people in town, and this special island made me feel wrapped in a warm, safe cocoon, from which I emerged a butterfly. Thank you with all my heart for an enchanted stay.
~Joyce L.
It was the last Guestbook, and she would leave it here, hopefully for Lily to find. Today, she reminded herself, she was going to hide that brownie recipe before she forgot! The very last day she had spent with Lily, Maggie awakened early to bake a big batch and pack it up for Katherine and Lily’s long drive. Lily’s blue eyes had gone wide when she saw the basket of brownies. “Oh, Grandma,” she had said, “these are my favorites!”
Lily had hugged her so hard she thought she might break. The scent of chocolate lingered in the kitchen even after Maggie had watched them drive away.
Mary peeked into the bedroom with a silver tray in her hand. “I see you’re sitting up. Did you get some sleep?”
“A bit fitful. So many dreams,” Maggie said.
Mary put on her cheerful smile. “Here’s a little breakfast to take your pills with.”
Maggie fluffed up her pillows and made room for the tray to fit over her lap. Placed over a piece of white lace was a warm bowl of cinnamon-flavored oatmeal. Sliced bananas and blueberries were on the side in a glass dish, along with a creamer filled to the top and a bowl of brown sugar. Black coffee and glass of freshly squeezed orange juice filled out the tray.
“It looks wonderful. Thank you,” Maggie said. “You really don’t have to bring it to my room. I could get up.”
Mary waved her concern away. “Just enjoy being pampered for a change.”
After breakfast, Mary cleared away the dishes and headed home. Maggie finally took a shower and put on some comfortable clothes. The effort caused her to sit down for a little while, but finally she stood up, ready to go. Today she would come up with a hiding place for her prized brownie recipe. The recipe, and selling the brownies locally and by mail, had made her tidy sum as a side business, and that was an added bonus she would be passing on to Lily. She retrieved it from its hiding place in her dresser and decided to look around in the kitchen first. She glanced at the various nooks and crannies, but that seemed too obvious. She wanted a place that held a special memory for her and Lily.
She wandered over to the parlor and stood at the entry to the cozy room. Her eyes landed on the antique mahogany cabinet, inherited from her grandmother. She walked over and peered through the glass doors. On the bottom shelf was the sleek white ceramic horse that Lily had loved to play with when she was little. Her granddaughter would take the horse out and hug it gently before placing it in her lap. Lily would whisper to it and then gently carry it to the window and tell the horse about the trails it could run through at night while all the people slept in their beds.
Maggie took the horse out and petted its sleek, shiny surface. It had been hers as a child as well, and in the family for so many years. She turned it over to see if there was a date on the bottom and there it was…a hole left open by the artist that reached up into the body for several inches. Maggie took the handwritten brownie recipe from her pocket and folded it a few times before rolling it up like a small scroll. She slipped it up into the secret hiding place in the white horse and closed her eyes. Please let Lily find this and remember our love, she prayed. Gingerly, she placed the horse back on the bottom shelf, shut the glass door, and went back to her room to lie down.
⌘
The bed was her refuge now. Sun trickled in through her lace curtains and the scent of her late roses from the garden drifted through the open window. She had one thing left to do, to call her ex-daughter-in-law, Katherine. But she was so tired. No more delays, she told herself. Get it over with. Now!
She propped up in her mahogany four-poster bed and retrieved the phone number the sheriff had given her from the table beside her bed. Maggie took a deep breath and lifted the receiver of the landline. Her fingers shook as she pressed in each number and listened to it ring.
“Hello,” the once familiar woman’s voice said. For a moment, Maggie panicked. What if Katherine wouldn’t speak to her?
“Katherine?” Maggie asked.
“Yes…and who is this?”
Maggie so wanted to hang up and never have to face this. But she plowed on. “This is Maggie Parkins. Lily’s grandmother.”
A sharp gasp filled the receiver. “Maggie, it’s been a long time.”
“That is has. Are you well, Katherine?”
“Very well. You?”
Maggie hesitated. The room spun a little as a wave of fatigue flushed her body. “I am not doing that well, actually. A few health problems.”
“I am sorry to hear that. I hope you feel better soon. Is everything else all right? Has Jerold been sniffing around or causing any trouble?”
“Oh no,” Maggie said. “Nothing like that.”
Katherine’s voice lightened a tone. “Good. And the inn? I heard you made quite a success of it.”
Maggie wracked her brain how to tell Katherine just enough, but not too much. “Actually, I closed the inn a month ago. That is one of the reasons I called. I hope you understand. After all this time, I didn’t think I would be putting either of you in danger by being in touch.”
Katherine’s voice tightened. “Have you heard from Jerold?”
“Only once, when he asked for money and I told him to never call me again,” Maggie said. It had broken her heart to do so, but he had left her no choice.
“Probably the right thing to do. But hard for you, Maggie. What can I help you with?”
Right to the point, Maggie thought. “How is Lily doing?”
“Quite well,” Katherine said, her voice warm and friendly now. “She graduated college and married a successful businessman. They live in Brentwood, California, and Lily has a small catering business. She always loved cooking and baking with you. Culinary school was a natural for her.”
“That is wonderful news. No children?”
“No. Brad is…not fond of children. Or pets.”
Maggie’s heart dropped. Lily loved animals. From the wild bunnies to dogs and cats of every size, they had brought her joy. Something seemed off, she could feel it in her bones.
“I see,” Maggie said. “I don’t want to disturb her life, especially now. I want her to remember the good times with me.”
“Is it…are you very ill?” Katherine asked.
Maggie’s voice cracked. “Yes, I am.” She took a deep breath. “I want to leave Lily my home and property after I am gone. She can do whatever she wishes with it. My hope is it will bring her the same happiness it brought me, however she chooses to enjoy it.”
“That is very kind. You are welcome to have all paperwork sent to me and I will make sure it is handled in a delicate and efficient manner when the time comes.”
Relief washed over her. This was the ideal way to handle this, and Katherine was being so gracious. “Thank you. That would be perfect. You can email me your address and any other contact information to [email protected], and that way I will have an accurate record to forward to my attorney.”
“You take good care, Maggie. I wish things could have been different. You have always been kind, and I know Lily loves you.”
“And I never stopped loving her.”
“Maggie, I’m sorry I had to take Lily away from you. Jerold had gotten so violent, and I had to keep her safe.”
>
“I understood completely,” Maggie said. “Lily’s safety was the most important thing. I would have done the same thing if I was her mother.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me,” Katherine said.
There was really nothing left to say, so Maggie said goodbye and placed the phone back in its cradle before bursting into tears. How she wished things could have been different. She wiped her eyes and remembered to be grateful for what she did have. She was abundantly blessed with the inn, her guests, her many island friends, and, of course, John.
⌘
John’s mood picked right up as soon as Ian and Jason arrived at his house for the weekend. Ian worked hard as an art teacher all week and spent most of the weekend painting in the studio he’d built here in the old barn. His grandson had done quite well selling at the gallery in town and even had a few big art shows in New York. John couldn’t have been prouder. Now he’d like to see Ian smile again. Since the loss of his wife, Sara, a few years ago, the boy seemed like he’d never fully recover. And with Ian’s mother, his crazy daughter, Celeste, off painting in Mexico, she had not been much help or comfort.
Gretel, barking with joy, pushed open the screen door and tore over to the car to greet them.
“Gretel,” Jason said. He bent down on one knee and petted her silky, black head. “Good girl. We’ll play all weekend.”
“Welcome. Can I help you with anything?” John asked.
“I got it covered,” Ian said. He pulled a couple backpacks out of the trunk and brought them inside. “We caught the early ferry and missed the Friday rush hour lines.”
Grandpa John followed them inside, Gretel at his heels.
“Got any of Maggie’s cookies?” Jason asked.
John ruffled the boy’s hair. “Maggie’s not feeling too well these days, so she’s not baking as much. But when she heard you were coming over, she promised to make a batch tomorrow.”
“There’s at least three hours left of sunlight,” Ian said. “Why don’t we go into the barn and knock out a frame for Maggie’s painting?”
“Great idea,” John said. “C’mon, Jason, this is a family project.”
Three generations of McPhersons hammered and nailed a driftwood frame that fit perfectly around the oil painting of Maggie and John rocking on the porch swing. She would love it.
Ian fitted the canvas into the frame and pulled a wire across the back for hanging. “All finished,” he said as he held it up for all to see.
John let his mind drift to the many times he and Maggie had sat on the old swing, hand in hand, often under a blanket watching the sunset or staring at the night stars. A piece of his heart broke as he realized there were very few days left until even the swing would be too much for his sweet Maggie to bear. The pain was worsening and the prescription pills, which she hated to take, had become a necessity.
“Can we give it to her now?” Jason asked.
Ian looked to John for the answer.
“Let’s see,” John said as he looked at his watch. “It is dinner time and Mary is cooking for her tonight. Why don’t we let Maggie get a good night’s sleep and give it to her tomorrow?”
“Okay. Maybe she’ll have cookies for us then, too.”
John laughed. “Maybe she will. Now, let’s go inside and get us some dinner.”
⌘
The sound of a rooster drifted into Maggie’s dreams. Her eyes burst open. Her guests were waiting for breakfast and she had overslept. What day was this? Maggie turned and saw the bottles of medicine on her nightstand, and the reality of her situation came flooding back. She mentally pushed it away. It was Saturday and she had promised there would be cookies for Ian, Jason, and even Gretel.
With a surge of energy she hadn’t felt in a long time, she slid out of bed and into the shower. The rose-and-chamomile-scented soap from Tea & Comfort was her favorite. I’ll even wash my hair, she thought, while I have the energy. It had been days. Maggie hummed one of her favorite tunes from years ago, “Morning Has Broken” by Cat Stevens. The words ran through her mind about praising the new day with elation. And that was what she would do.
Mary had left her a freshly baked quiche in the refrigerator to heat up for breakfast because she wasn’t able to come until the afternoon on Saturdays. Maggie was glad to have a quiet morning to herself. She loved Mary and could not have made it without her, but today she wanted to pretend, for this day only, that everything was back to normal. Whatever that was, she chuckled to herself.
After warming the bacon and cheddar quiche, filled with fresh herbs from her garden, Maggie sat down to eat in the kitchen. The first bite burst with salty goodness. Food hadn’t tasted this good in weeks. She gobbled down the piece and went for seconds. What was happening? Was she getting better? Then she remembered the time her own mother was dying of cancer. She’d rallied right at the end. They’d eaten a big supper the night before and her mother had been in great spirits. But in the morning, she woke in excruciating pain and had to be brought to the hospital. She died before midnight that same day.
If this was her own last rally, she was determined to make the most of it. From the shelf, she brought down flour, sugar, and a bag of bittersweet chocolate. In a pan over the stove, she mixed the fragrant chocolate with butter, added her secret ingredient of condensed milk and vanilla, and then sifted the dry ingredients in once it was off the stove. To the mixture she added milk chocolate chips to complete her double chocolate chip cookies. While they were in the oven baking and making the kitchen smell like sugar heaven, Maggie began to put together the dog treats. Same flour, but she added canola oil, fresh peanut butter, oats, and a pinch of cheddar cheese before forming them into disks. With her index finger she poked the dough to create a paw pattern on its surface. Gretel would be over the moon with this batch.
She watched the cookies closely, moving out one batch and making room for another. The familiar routine soothed her and made the house feel alive again. She’d made enough to drop a few off at Betty and Shirley’s house to thank them for all they had done for her. And plenty for John, Ian, and, of course, Jason.
No sooner had the cookies cooled on the racks then Maggie heard a knock at the front door.
“May we come in?” John’s upbeat voice asked.
Gretel made her way to the kitchen first and took her seat in front of the stove, ready and waiting.
“She obviously knows the drill,” Ian said. “That’s one smart dog.”
“With good taste, too,” John said.
Jason walked up to the cooling racks and took a deep sniff. “Ah, these smell wonderful. Are they my favorites?”
Maggie grinned. “They sure are. Double chocolate chip. Why don’t you boys sit down at the table and I’ll serve you some with milk? Or coffee,” she said, looking up at John.
They sat down in record time.
“Now we’re all sitting, including Gretel,” Jason said.
All good boys, Maggie thought. She plated up cookies for each of them and placed them on the table along with their drinks. A special plate for Gretel was placed on the floor. Maggie sat at the table, a single cookie before her and a cup of coffee with real cream. Why not? She was having a good day, and how she loved her island coffee.
After gobbling down three cookies, Jason pushed his chair back and stood up. “We have a present for you.” He turned to his grandpa and father. “Can we give it to her now?”
“I don’t see why not,” Ian said. “Why don’t you go get it where we left it on the porch? Wait.” Ian stood up. “Better yet, why don’t we go out on the porch and give it to her there?”
“Great idea,” John said. He helped Maggie up. She placed her hand through his elbow and he escorted her to the porch swing.
Jason had something behind his back and was impatiently swaying from foot to foot. “Now?”
Grandpa John laughed. “Now.”
“Ta-da,” Jason said as he revealed the painting. He handed it to Maggie. “My dad painted it
and we all made the frame.”
Maggie gazed at the beautiful painting. The likeness of her and John was remarkable as they curled together in her porch swing. Her silver hair had caught the breeze and John was smiling at her with love in his eyes. “I adore it,” she said. “I will cherish this forever.”
Ian leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Would you like me to put it up for you?”
“Absolutely. In my bedroom, where I can see it from the bed. That way it will get the most viewing,” she chuckled.
Ian laughed. “And there it shall go.”
He left them briefly and Maggie could hear the sound of the hammer inside the house. The gift was truly beautiful and she would cherish it.
After Ian returned to the porch, the four of them sat out there together and talked for what seemed like hours. Hummingbirds flitted in and out of her feeder. The flowering vines caught the afternoon sun, filling the porch with color. Maggie was content here. This was home in every sense of the word, and as the saying went, there was no place like it.
⌘
John was on his second cup of morning coffee when he caught a glimpse of Mary walking across the field from Maggie’s house to his. His heart dropped into his stomach. He rushed to the back door and threw it open. Mary’s face was lined with worry.
“Maggie’s not looking too good this morning. She’s so pale and wouldn’t eat any breakfast. I wish I could stay, but I promised I’d take care of my nephews today. I don’t think she should be alone.”