Changing Tides

by Meredith Summers

  Jane watched them walk to the door. Cooper looked back at her as if to say, “See you later.” Jane hoped he would. Something about the golden retriever made her problems seem a little smaller.

  She walked to her car, her spirits revived. She was on her way to meet her two best friends for morning coffee, and that always picked up her mood. She was sure they’d be able to help her figure out what to do about the fees at Tall Pines.

  Things were looking up… until her phone chimed with a text from her sister. She’d left Andie a message about their mother a few days ago, and they’d been playing phone and text tag ever since. Jane wanted to talk to her in person. She owed her that, and the information was too much to pass back and forth in messages.

  She threw the phone onto the car seat. It had taken Andie long enough to respond, and she could wait a few more hours. Jane had to stop at Tides to take care of a few things before meeting her friends for coffee, and she didn’t want to be late. They had a lot to talk about.

  Chapter 2

  Andie Miller glanced down at the phone on her desk. Jane hadn’t returned her text yet. The lack of communication had her worried. Jane’s last message about their mother had had a ring of foreboding to it. There was something she wasn’t telling Andie. Should Andie go home? But why? Jane would handle everything, and that was the way her sister wanted things, wasn’t it? It sure seemed that way since Jane never asked for her opinion or her help.

  But was that really the way Jane wanted things, or was it because Andie had practically abandoned them by taking off right after high school and only going back when something bad happened? Like when Jane’s infant son had died… and then her husband. And when their father had gotten sick. Even on those horrible occasions, Andie had provided comfort as best she could and then taken off back to her career as soon as possible.

  It wasn’t that Andie didn’t like her family—she loved them dearly. But there just wasn’t much for her back in Lobster Bay. Her career as an antiques appraiser necessitated that she live in a city where antiques collectors and auction houses were prevalent, not in a small seaside beach town. Besides, the last time she’d gone home, her mom had been doing fairly well. A little more forgetful, but she was able to manage, and Jane was helping out at the inn.

  Andie loved her job. She’d always been enthralled with the past, and as an antiques collector, restorer, and appraiser, she had the privilege of handling unique pieces of history that were hundreds of years old. She was good at her job too. Her expertise and passion were what had granted her a senior position at Christie’s. Her drive and her willingness to put in long hours had been what had made her boss, Doug, look at her in an entirely different light.

  Her married boss. Surely she wasn’t out of line for pushing him to get that divorce he had claimed for months he was on the cusp of delivering to his wife? They were estranged. They were unhappy. Doug had been happy with Andie these past seven months.

  Or so he said. Yet ever since she’d brought the divorce up a week ago, Doug had found more and more reasons not to be in the office. And now he wasn’t even returning her texts.

  Andie looked away from the phone and concentrated on the ivory-inlaid box she’d been inspecting. Everything would work out fine. Doug was probably just busy. The box, with its intricate design and sterling silver interior, was in perfect condition. She noted so in her documentation before glancing at her phone again. Nothing from Doug or Jane.

  “Andrea, how would you catalogue this?”

  Susie Thornburg, the fresh-out-of-college new hire was looking at her expectantly with her wide brown eyes. Andie supposed that Susie was a good kid, and she did seem to have a love for antiques and a good work ethic. But Andie wasn’t the most patient person, and being tasked with training an overly eager apprentice almost thirty years her junior really wasn’t her cup of tea.

  She looked at the item in question and very slowly, very patiently pointed out, “I just catalogued that. It’s under metalware. See here?” She pointed to the entry in the computer, a few lines above in the Recent Entries column.

  Susie laughed brightly. “Oh. I guess I’m still on vacation time.”

  They each returned to their work, but the silence didn’t last long. It was just as well. If Andie didn’t find some distraction, she was going to set the world record for most number of times a woman has checked her phone for messages and found none.

  Susie asked in a chipper tone, “So, what’s up with Doug? Shouldn’t he have checked on us by now? He usually does.”

  Susie didn’t know about Andie’s affair with their boss. No one did. At first, Andie had accepted Doug’s reasoning for keeping their affair secret. After all, it had started so fast, crossing the line from innocent to a deeper connection almost before she knew what was happening.

  Neither of them wanted it to be a problem at work. Even though the company didn’t have any rules against people dating, Doug had recently been separated from his wife, and it was awkward. Andie didn’t want her coworkers to think she was getting the good jobs because of her relationship with Doug, even though everyone knew she’d earned those jobs with years of dedication and hard work and had been awarded them before the relationship started.

  But as time went on, she should have picked up on the fact that Doug never really wanted to go to any parties or out in public. He didn’t introduce her to any of his friends. She should have realized that meant that he wasn’t as separated from his wife as he’d led her to believe.

  She steered Susie to safer waters. “Who knows? So, how was your trip down to Florida to see your mom?”

  If nothing else, Susie was always happy to chatter about her own life. Andie didn’t mind so much. The girl’s enthusiasm was contagious, and she had a nice manner about her. Maybe if Andie was younger, they might have been friends that went out for drinks together after work. Maybe they would now, even though Andie was probably Susie’s mother’s age.

  As Susie talked about her visit home, Andie felt a weird pang of homesickness. She didn’t often miss her hometown, and even though she never cared to visit there, it had a lot of things going for it. The sugar-sand beaches, the smell of the ocean. The fresh lobster. But it was a small town, and Andie had always wanted more. That was one reason why she’d left and never looked back—and why she’d treated the boy she’d been head over heels for so terribly. She’d been scared she’d be stuck in Lobster Bay waiting for him to come home from the navy. Or never come home at all. But that had been decades ago now, and it was all water under the bridge.

  Stifling a sigh, Andie finished cataloguing the box and moved on to the next piece, a jade figurine of an elephant with a raised trunk. She put on her bifocals to inspect it more closely. Not everything in this room was rare or old. The appraisers sometimes bid on estate sales and had to wade through them to find the chunks of gold hidden amid the manure. But whenever she did discover a rare find, it always gave Andie a little thrill.

  When she’d left for college, she’d wanted to be an archaeologist. But experience had soon taught her that she was not the outdoorsy type. Nevertheless, history fascinated her, and she always dreamed of making that one big discovery. A document from the founding of the country hidden behind a painting, a long-lost diary, an important piece of jewelry lost by a queen whose government had been overthrown. Maybe it was a fantasy to hope for something so big, but it was a buzz that had gotten inside Andie’s stomach and never left. It filled her with breathless anticipation every time she picked up a new piece.

  But this figurine wasn’t it. By her estimate, given its style and the wear of the grooves carved into it, it was from the early 1900s. She needed to consult her reference book to be sure.

  As she moved toward the book, Susie’s chipper voice washed over her again, piercing her sense of calm.

  “No fair.”

  Andie frowned, looking up. She pulled her bifocals off her nose and perched them on top of her head again. “What isn’t fair?”

&n
bsp; “The way Doug is playing favorites.”

  Andie drew herself up. Was she referring to Andie? She couldn’t possibly know about their affair.

  Susie continued, “She’s been here for less time than me!”

  Andie turned to face her associate head-on. “Pardon me?”

  “Elise,” Susie answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I have a funny feeling about her, with her bright smile and chirpy attitude and supermodel figure. She might be getting special treatment. She just got a big appraisal job.”

  “She’s getting prime jobs? Already?” Andie wondered if Susie was exaggerating. “That can’t be right. I’m due to fly out for the next one.”

  Andie couldn’t be losing her prestige to a new appraiser. She had clawed her way up to get to where she was. She worked long hours, even weekends. In the back of her mind, she had always feared that as soon as she passed fifty, she would start to get overlooked despite her expertise. But it hadn’t happened. And now…

  Susie patted Andie’s arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure she’ll choke and get pulled off the next run. I mean, sure, she has a good eye for antiques, but it’s nothing compared to yours.”

  “Which job did she get?” Maybe it was a job that would conflict with a bigger job they intended to give to Andie?

  Susie shrugged. “Vanderburgh in Palm Springs. It looks like a good one. I’m sure she’ll be calling you any minute now for advice.”

  Andie pressed her lips together. It was a good one. Was that why Doug had ignored her texts? Andie was busy with this job, but they could have handed the grunt work off to Elise with Susie to assist and flown Andie to Palm Springs. Why would they let Elise go on her own? The last few jobs, she’d had to call Andie for advice on almost every item.

  Andie sat back at her desk and glanced at her phone. Still no texts. Maybe a visit to Lobster Bay wouldn’t be such a bad idea. She was worried about her mother. She hadn’t seen her in almost a year. They’d talked on the phone, but sometimes her mother had been confused. And there was nothing like seeing someone face-to-face.

  Maybe if Doug saw that she wasn’t sitting around here waiting for him to call, he might realize what he was missing. Then again, a little voice inside her cautioned that maybe she didn’t want him to realize that. Not for personal reasons, but she still wanted to be his choice for the good jobs. If she left, would Elise replace her as the new favorite?

  That was ridiculous. A respectable auction house like Christie’s wouldn’t replace an experienced veteran like Andie with a newcomer like Elise. She checked the schedule of upcoming appraisals on her computer.

  There was a big estate that was expected to go on the market soon. Robert Richhaven had a collection that antiques collectors would weep over. No one had seen it in recent years, given his failing health and his propensity to return to his reclusive ways at the slightest provocation. However, with no children and distant relatives more interested in selling the estate fast, this could be Andie’s find of a lifetime. More than anything, she was determined to be sent to the Richhaven Estate when it went up for auction. But that wouldn’t happen for a few weeks.

  She had time to go back home and let Doug see just how important she was for this operation. Without her here, Elise would have to sink or swim on her own. Andie didn’t want her to sink. She didn’t wish her, or Christie’s, any harm, but if the higher-ups thought she was ready to go out on jobs on her own, then she guessed it was only fair that they saw how she could handle things without Andie helping in the background. Besides, Andie had a lot of vacation time accrued and had to use it by the end of the year.

  She picked up her phone and started shopping for a plane ticket to Maine.

  Chapter 3

  By the time Jane drove up the pebbled drive in front of Tides, she’d come to terms with the fact that paying for Addie’s care might not be as easy as she’d hoped.

  The silence of the inn was another reminder that moving her mother to Tall Pines was the right thing to do. Bookings had been down drastically this year, and Jane had been too busy trying to make sure her mother didn’t wander off or leave the stove burner on to even think about how to rectify that. Now she didn’t have much of a choice, not if she was going to keep her promise to her mother. She was going to have to figure out a way to bring in more business.

  Jane was good at finances, though. She could juggle bills in her sleep. She could find a way to make this work.

  Her footsteps echoed on the smooth, worn floors of the old Victorian house. Although the house was in working order, it had retained its rustic air as well as a constant list of minor repairs that needed to be handled. Jane liked its charm. In a way, she was glad that in appearance the inn hadn’t changed much since she’d been a child. There was a nostalgia that hung from the eaves and gables, a cozy feeling of safety. If running the inn didn’t go hand in hand with interacting with so many strangers, Jane might enjoy it a lot more. Of course, lately there hadn’t even been that many strangers—just old Mrs. Weatherlee, who had been here for two weeks. She was quiet and mostly kept to herself, so at least Jane didn’t have to pretend to be an extrovert around her.

  Jane proceeded to the kitchen, where Brenda was washing out a thick yellowware mixing bowl.

  Brenda was a cheerful woman with a round face and a bright smile. She liked to hum while she cleaned the kitchen, but she was always off tune. Jane cleared her throat to announce her arrival.

  Brenda straightened with a jump. “Jane! You’re back.” She recovered from her shock quickly, still holding the dripping bowl. “How did the meeting at Tall Pines go?”

  “Not as expected,” Jane admitted with a grimace. “I’m just about to head into town to meet with Claire and Maxi, but I wanted to check in and make sure you didn’t need anything.”

  Brenda’s face creased with concern. The sixty-five-year-old woman was more like family than hired help. She’d been a close sidekick for Addie after Jane’s father had died and had taken care of her as her dementia progressed over the past several years. Brenda was as concerned about Addie getting good care as Jane was.

  “Don’t worry,” Jane assured her. “Medicaid won’t pay for Mom, but everything will be okay.”

  “How can I help?” Brenda asked.

  Jane sighed, running her finger along the well-worn surface of the rectangular pine kitchen table. The table had been there since before Jane had been born. Maybe even since before her mother had been born. She remembered many family meals at this table. She couldn’t let that all slip away now. “I guess just keep cooking your awesome breakfasts. I’m going to have to figure out how to get more guests to the inn, and your food is the key.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” Brenda waved off the compliment, but Jane could see that she was pleased.

  Jane kissed her cheek. “Speaking of that, I guess I better play innkeeper and go make sure Mrs. Weatherlee is enjoying her breakfast.”

  “Stop and have some yourself,” Brenda encouraged her. She turned her back to continue loading the dishwasher. “There’s plenty there, and it will only go to waste if somebody doesn’t eat it.”

  “Claire always keeps a muffin ready for me when we meet in the mornings.”

  Brenda tsked. “You need to eat more than a muffin. It’s no wonder you’re so skinny.”

  Some people would say those words with praise. With Brenda, who wore the evidence of her good cooking with a comfort that Jane could never emulate, it was a chastisement.

  “If there’s still some left over, I’ll eat it for lunch or supper.”

  That was a common theme in Jane’s life. The inn served one full breakfast, and Brenda usually went all-in with her meals. Even though they only had one guest, Jane wouldn’t be surprised to see piles of eggs, bacon, and toast laid out neatly along with the basket of muffins she made sure to keep stocked in from Claire’s bakery and the fresh-baked bread from Bradford Breads. It wasn’t unusual for Jane to have breakfast food for supper, just s
o it wouldn’t go to waste. Brenda had pared the volume of her cooking down considerably, but she hadn’t gotten the hang of cooking for the smaller amount of guests yet.

  Through the swinging kitchen door was the dining room. Whereas the kitchen was an eclectic mix of modern and rustic—including a walk-in refrigerator, which was well used during the busy season—the dining room was all seaside elegance.

  There were several tables set up so that guests could have their own private dining experiences. The tables were covered in pristine white linen. The mahogany-backed chairs all matched, their talon-and-ball feet resting on the jewel-toned Oriental rug that covered most of the wide pine flooring.

  The ceilings were ten feet tall, and a row of floor-to-ceiling French doors faced the ocean, providing an astounding view of golden sand and cobalt waves. The windows were flanked by cobalt-blue silk drapes that had been custom made in Jane’s grandmother’s day. The doors were cracked open, and the edges of the drapes fluttered in the breeze.

  One tiny white-haired old lady sat at a table next to the window, slowly cutting into the Belgian waffle on her plate. Brenda had certainly outdone herself with the meal today, with a bowl of fresh fruit on the table next to the muffins and a staggering stack of waffles. Jane would be eating them for days since Mrs. Weatherlee was barely five feet tall, and Jane would be surprised if she finished even one waffle.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Weatherlee. How are you today?”

  The woman turned from the window, smiling. “Wonderful. Who wouldn’t be with a plate full of food and this gorgeous view?” She patted her lips with her napkin.

  Jane glanced out the window. The woman had a point. “I hope breakfast is satisfactory.”

  “Of course. You always have the best breakfasts here. How is your mother, dear?”

  For an old lady, Mrs. Weatherlee was sharp as a tack and didn’t miss a thing. She’d been here for over two weeks and had witnessed some of Addie’s less lucid moments. She knew that Addie was now residing at Tall Pines. “She’s doing great. Thanks for asking.”