Here's to Friends

by Melody Carlson

  “Oh.” Janie nodded. “That could be a problem.”

  “Yeah. I mean it was one thing when you hired Bonnie to help with your house, but you didn’t know that she was the other woman and—”

  “To be fair, we never established that Bonnie and Paul actually had an affair. As far as I could tell, it was more of a business friendship that got a little too friendly, at least too friendly for Abby’s comfort.”

  “I know. But Abby still has some hang-ups about Bonnie.” Caroline glanced over her shoulder as if she expected Abby to pop into Janie’s law office.

  “What did Abby say about Paul’s suggestion?” Janie asked.

  “Abby doesn’t know yet.” Caroline frowned. “I hate to rock her boat. She seems a little stressed.”

  “I thought she was all happy about her guests and all.”

  “I thought so too, but I was just in the kitchen and she seemed a little glum. Oh, yeah, that reminds me, she told me to invite you to come up and eat breakfast leftovers. She made enough to feed a small army and, as far as I can see, her guests barely touched it. Not only that, but it sounds like they’re checking out today.”

  “Checking out?” Janie felt concerned. “Why?”

  “I’m not sure. I just overheard the guy telling his wife that he wanted to go look for another place to stay.”

  “Oh, dear.” Janie shook her head. “That will probably upset Abby. She was so looking forward to having them here for a whole week.”

  “Yeah. She seemed pretty bummed. And that’s just one more reason I don’t want to mention the Bonnie situation to her.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “So what do I do?” Caroline held up her hands. “Paul said he’ll start work on Monday if I can get my ducks in a row. And he said the only one he knew who could help me to do that was Bonnie Boxwell.”

  “Well, other than Abby.” Janie sighed. “She’s pretty good at that sort of thing too, but she’s got her hands full with this inn. I have to admit that Bonnie takes décor and design to a whole new level. I really don’t think you’ll be disappointed if you hire her.”

  “Unless it ruins my friendship with Abby.”

  “Oh, your friendship is sturdier than that.” Janie smiled. “Remember, Abby forgave me for my Bonnie transgressions.”

  “I know. Maybe I could just forget to mention it to Abby. For a while anyway, until she’s feeling better about the B-and-B situation.”

  Janie stood. “Breakfast leftovers are sounding good to me. I haven’t eaten yet. If the guests are gone, maybe we should go foraging before Abby puts it all away.”

  As it turned out, Abby had really outdone herself. The crepes and blintzes and sausage and bacon and eggs were impressive.

  “I know, I know,” she told them as she waved her hand over the feast still spread in the dining room. “It was temporary insanity on my part. Maybe I was thinking of that old Costner movie Field of Dreams—if I cook it, they will come.”

  “Well, we came,” Janie told her as she took a second crepe. “And it’s delicious.”

  “Yeah, if this B-and-B thing doesn’t work out for you, you might want to consider a restaurant,” Caroline suggested.

  Abby groaned. “Do you know how much work that would be to run a restaurant? I’m sure Paul would leave me.”

  “But you could promise him three solid meals a day,” Caroline said.

  “So your guests are really checking out today?” Janie spooned some raspberries onto her crepe.

  “How’d you hear that?” Abby asked.

  “I mentioned it to her,” Caroline admitted. “I overheard them talking in the foyer this morning.”

  Abby let out a long, sad-sounding sigh. “It seems I’m a failure as an innkeeper.”

  “No, you’re not,” Caroline told her.

  “I am.” Abby nodded in a dismal way. “The guy practically accused me of a bait and switch when he discovered that the inn isn’t on the ocean.”

  “Did you advertise it as that?” Janie asked.

  “No, but my website does have some scenic photos that might be misleading.”

  “I’ve seen your website,” Janie said. “There’s a lighthouse picture and a dunes shot, and some ocean photos as well as some other local spots of interest. Those are the sights you’re encouraging people to come see here on the coast. Surely they don’t think they’ll see all those things while staying right here in the B and B. They expect to look out the window and see all of that?”

  “I don’t know.” Abby shook her head. “The Hawleys seemed to.”

  “Hawley?” Janie asked. “Is that the guy applying for the city manager job?”

  “I don’t know.” Abby shrugged. “He didn’t mention anything—well, other than my ‘false advertising.’”

  “I heard someone at the fitness club talking about a guy named Hawley. You know the city has finally decided to hire a replacement for Cathy.”

  “Well, I sure hope they don’t hire that sourpuss.” Abby scowled. “The sooner he leaves my inn and Clifden, the happier I’ll be.”

  “So he didn’t check out yet?” Janie asked, confused.

  “Not officially. They went out to look around the town. I’m sure if they find a better place to stay, they will check out. Although Jackie’s B and B is booked.”

  “Then they’ll probably stay here,” Caroline assured Abby.

  “Great.” Abby scowled.

  “So you really don’t want their business?” Janie asked.

  “Oh, I suppose I do.” Abby stood and picked up the big platter of blintzes. “It’s just that it’s not turning out to be quite how I hoped it would be.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I think … I’m afraid I’ve made a big mistake. I … I’m just not cut out to be a businesswoman.” Then she let out a sob and turned and ran.

  Caroline and Janie exchanged glances then both simultaneously stood and followed Abby into the kitchen, where she was standing in front of the sink, crying.

  “You have done a beautiful job putting this place together.” Janie put a hand on Abby’s shoulder. “Anyone with any sense would be grateful to stay here. Everything is so lovely and elegant and tasteful and clean. Even without an ocean view, it’s got a lot of the same amenities as a five-star hotel.”

  “And your food is killer,” Caroline assured her.

  “The Hawleys are vegetarians.” Abby blew her nose on a paper towel.

  “Well, that’s their problem,” Janie said.

  “You just need to give it some time.” Caroline put her arm around Abby from the other side. “You’ve barely opened your doors. Christmas is coming, and then there’s winter, and well, maybe it won’t be too busy at first.”

  “But I need to make the mortgage payments.” Abby turned to Janie. “Believe me, I will make payments. I promise you, Janie, I will keep up my end of this deal.”

  “I’m not worried, Abby. And I love having my office in your basement.”

  “And I love having you here. But I need to bring in some income—my savings won’t last forever. Eventually I have to make some money on this place.”

  “You will,” Janie said with confidence. “But Caroline is right. Starting an inn in the winter is probably a challenge.”

  “Hey, maybe you need to do something to lure people in here,” Caroline said. “Give them something they can’t resist.”

  “You mean like a bait and switch,” Abby said bitterly.

  “No, I mean like a winter special, or a coupon, or a free night if someone stays for like, say, three. Something to get some attention. Everyone likes to feel they’re getting a deal or a special offer.”

  Abby’s eyes brightened. “You know, Caroline, that’s not a bad idea.”

  “Go online,” Janie suggested. “See what
other B and Bs do to get business. Learn from them.”

  “I’ll do that,” Abby said eagerly.

  “And don’t worry about the silly old Hawleys,” Caroline told her.

  “Maybe they were just your initiation,” Janie joked. “Now you’re officially in the club and it’ll go better from here on out.”

  Abby smiled at both of them. “What would I do without my friends?”

  “Have way too much food left over.” Caroline plucked a blintz off of the tray on the counter.

  They helped Abby clean up the breakfast things, and then Janie returned to her office to lock up. She checked her appointment calendar for the rest of the month, which was shockingly open, and wondered if she’d made a mistake in turning down Sheryl as a client. Really, could she afford to be that choosy? Here she was, partnered with Abby, but what if Abby’s inn didn’t make it? What if it continued to flounder and fail? And what if Janie’s fledgling law practice went bottom-up as well? Were they crazy, at this age and stage in life, to take these kinds of risks, reinventing themselves at a time when they’d probably be wiser to plan for retirement? Good grief, in five years Janie and her friends would all be in their sixties! Janie remembered when her parents were that age—in her mind, it was as if they’d both had a foot in the grave.

  Yet Janie didn’t feel that old. Oh, sure, she had a few new aches and pains occasionally and she couldn’t do everything she used to do. Plus there was this whole business of hot flashes and bouts of irritability and an inability to focus at times. But for the most part, Janie still felt fairly young and vital. She wasn’t ready to start thinking about retirement. Why should she? Well, except when she had “clients” like Sheryl Bowers. That alone gave her cause to question her long-term career plans.

  Janie caught a glimpse of herself in the bronze-framed mirror by the door. Her auburn waves hadn’t started to gray yet, but there was no denying that the color had faded some, and gray was probably right around the corner. Still, it wouldn’t be anything a good hairdresser couldn’t fix with more highlights. Even the crow’s-feet by her eyes weren’t too distressing. Plus there was always Botox, although she was determined not to go that route if she could control herself. All in all, things could be worse.

  She picked up the yellow legal pad from her desk and tore off the pages of Sheryl notes. She wadded the paper into a tight ball and lobbed it into the trash basket. Growing old might be fine for some people, but why rush things? Wrinkles, gray hair, and sore joints would arrive in their own due time. There was no stopping them. But she was not going to obsess over things like retirement plans, elderly health care, and AARP issues today.

  Today she was going to remind herself that she would never be younger than she was right this minute. She was going to count her blessings—and thank God for them! Tonight, she planned to dress up like a much younger woman and go out with Victor and kick up her heels. Let those who wanted to sit back in their rockers and be old have at it. Janie was going to live like age really was just a number!

  Chapter 7

  Marley

  By Saturday, Marley was feeling a little weary. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Hunter, or Jack for that matter, but she just didn’t know how long she could keep up this pace of playing substitute mom and substitute sales clerk at the gallery while trying to paint. Still, she didn’t want to be selfish, and she knew that people were more important than things. She also knew that Hunter, though a pretty resilient girl, wasn’t ready to be dumped at the babysitter’s.

  “Any word?” Marley asked Jack as she and Hunter came into the gallery. It was the changing of the guard, as she called it in her mind. She’d been picking up Hunter after school and keeping her for the afternoon, then dropping her off with Jack and remaining in the gallery until closing. This let Jack take Hunter home and have something of a normal evening—fixing dinner, doing homework, that sort of thing. But since today was Saturday, Marley had kept Hunter for the entire day.

  “Nothing,” he told her with his usual sober smile.

  “So how’s it going?” she asked, changing the focus from Hunter’s missing mom to the gallery.

  “A little slow, thanks to the weather, I think. But I’m hoping it’ll pick up this weekend. I ran that ad in the paper this week.”

  She nodded. “The holiday shopping coupon.”

  “So how was your day?” he asked Hunter. As usual, she filled him in on the details of what they’d been doing, actually making it sound much more exciting than it had really been. But today it had been housework, after Marley had realized that her little beach bungalow was in dire need of a good scrubbing, and she wasn’t sure how Hunter could possibly glamorize that.

  “I got to wash windows,” Hunter told him proudly. “But first Marley let me paint them with the soap. Then we took pictures of them. It was really cool.”

  “Hmm.” He rubbed his chin. “Maybe you should do that at my place too.”

  “No way, Grandpa.” Hunter shook her head. “Your house is all windows.”

  Marley shrugged. “See the price you pay for that gorgeous view, Jack?”

  “Thanks for doing this,” he told her as he reached for his coat. “You know tonight we stay open until seven.”

  “No problem,” she assured him. “I brought a book to read if it’s slow.”

  “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “And I’ve placed an ad for a new employee,” he said quietly. “I’ve been asking around.”

  “You’re going to give someone else Mommy’s job?” Hunter asked with concerned eyes.

  Jack looked stumped.

  “I think your grandpa is just looking ahead to the holiday season,” Marley said quickly. “A lot of shops hire extra help at Christmastime. Right, Jack?”

  “Exactly.” He nodded with a grateful expression.

  “I can work when school gets out for Christmas,” Hunter offered. “Mrs. Hanford said we have a vacation.”

  Marley and Jack exchanged glances—Marley knew they were both wondering how they’d keep Hunter occupied during her two-week winter break.

  “You guys have a good evening,” Marley said as she put Hunter’s hood back over her head and ushered her toward the door. She leaned down and kissed the girl’s cheek. “I will see you tomorrow.”

  “And I’ll call you later tonight,” Jack called out as they left.

  Marley liked being alone in the gallery. It was so quiet and calm, and Jack’s selection of jazz music was always soothing. And the smell in here—that gallery smell, a mixture of paints and wood scents and the spiced tea that Jack often brewed in the back room—was always familiar and comforting. Really, there were worse ways to spend a Saturday night, and she’d seen plenty of them in her lifetime.

  Still, as she walked around, looking at the familiar pieces of art, including her own—which she wished would sell—she felt worried. Yes, this was a slow season, but her paintings were her livelihood. If she wasn’t creating them, increasing her stockpile, she wouldn’t have inventory to sell when things finally did pick up with the warmer weather and the tourists. But she was determined not to worry about that.

  Just go with the moment, she’d been telling herself. Enjoy playing grandma. Help Hunter to feel loved and at home and not abandoned.

  Even so, it was hard not to be seriously miffed with Jasmine at times. What kind of mother did this? Marley stared at one of Jasmine’s pieces—an intricate pen and ink drawing of the waterfront. “Make it marketable,” Jack had encouraged his daughter after Jasmine had complained that her other pieces weren’t selling. Of course, Marley understood why their typical clients were hesitant to hang pictures of dragons and demons and scary subjects on their walls, but, as with all things, Jasmine was determined to be her own free spirit. Marley could relate to th
at on some levels, but when one had a child to support, not all rules could be broken.

  “Jasmine is like her mother,” Jack had told Marley last night when they’d talked on the phone after Hunter had gone to bed.

  “How so?”

  “Well, Diane was a free spirit too. We met in the late sixties, and she didn’t want to get married. She said marriage was too institutional and traditional,” he’d explained. “Even when she was pregnant with Jasmine, Diane was sure our love was enough to keep us together and make us a family. But I’m more old-fashioned, so I put my foot down and insisted that a baby needed a married set of parents.” He sighed. “I guess I just didn’t understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “That she really didn’t want to be married. Diane left me when Jasmine was a little younger than Hunter.”

  “Did she take Jasmine with her?”

  “Not the first time. But after about a year, Diane decided she wanted Jasmine after all. Of course, that led to some pretty rough years and custody battles. Finally, the judge convinced Diane that if she really cared about her child, she’d continue to live in the Bay Area and share custody. And for a few years she did.”

  “And then?”

  “About the time Jasmine was hitting her turbulent teens, Diane decided to leave again.”

  “With or without Jasmine?”

  “This time we let Jasmine decide. She was only fifteen, and I know it was hard on her, but she finally decided to stay with me and finish school with her friends.” His laugh suggested he wasn’t amused. “I wasn’t sure whether I had won or lost that battle because, take it from me, parenting a rebellious teenage girl was no walk in the park.”

  Marley wanted to point out that the situation with his daughter hadn’t improved a whole lot since then but controlled herself. No sense in rubbing it in. “Kids,” she said, as if that said it all.

  “Yeah.”

  “Even so, you gotta love ’em.”

  “Agreed. And I shouldn’t be too surprised that Jasmine turned out like this. I do take some responsibility for it, but I think genetics has a bit to do with it as well. Like mother, like daughter.”