Changing Tides

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Changing Tides Page 3

by Meredith Summers


  Mrs. Weatherlee nodded slowly, her cornflower-blue eyes sympathetic. “It’s hard, but you made the right decision. Now you can focus on building this inn back to what it once was. You are going to do that, aren’t you?”

  Jane glanced around at the empty tables. Could she? “I’m going to try.”

  Mrs. Weatherlee nodded. “Good, then. Don’t worry. Everything will be all right.” She tucked back into her waffle.

  Mrs. Weatherlee’s positive attitude gave Jane new confidence, and she started back toward the front. She’d better get a move on if she wanted to meet her two best friends, Claire and Maxi, at Claire’s bakery, Sandcastles.

  She stepped out onto the front porch in time to see a blond woman step out of her bubblegum-pink Mini Cooper, carrying a sheaf of papers in her arms.

  Oh no! What was she doing here?

  Sandee Harris was a local realtor, and yes, Jane had reached out to a realty company to get an estimate on Tides, but she’d been dealing with Dorian Wells, not Sandee. Not only was Sandee mean, condescending, and generally annoying, she was also the woman Claire’s husband had cheated on Claire with. Claire was one of Jane’s best friends, and she’d rather deal with a pit of vipers than give any business to Sandee Harris.

  “Janey! Oh, good. Looks like I’ve just caught you!”

  Janey? Where had that come from? “Just Jane, actually. What are you doing here? I was dealing with Dorian.”

  As Sandee rounded her car, she pressed the key fob in her hand. The car chirped as the doors locked. As if she needed to lock it here in Lobster Bay where the crime rate was practically zero. Just showed how out of touch she was.

  “Dorian’s under the weather, so she asked me to fill you in.” Sandee smiled as if oblivious to the fact that Jane didn’t want her here.

  A lock of hair falling into her face, Sandee—just barely forty, another blow to Claire’s fifty-year-old ego—flipped through the folder in her hand with fingernails painted the same color as her car. She held her lower lip between her teeth as she fished out a page and set it on the top. Then she offered the entire folder to Jane.

  “Here’s the appraisal. If you’d like to list the property as is, I think we should start at the first number I’ve listed on that sheet and take no less than $50,000 under the list price.”

  The list price was appallingly low. Jane stared at the paper. Her ears rang with the numbers. Numbers that didn’t look right.

  And Jane knew her numbers.

  “You want to list the property for this?”

  Not even the tiniest flicker of doubt passed over the agent’s face. “As is, yes.”

  “We’re an oceanfront property! And it’s a viable business too. It’s worth at least twice that!”

  Sandee scrunched her nose. “Is it? You need new siding or at the very least a new coat of paint. You’re on town water, but the pipes are old and will need to be replaced inside the next five years. Same with the furnace, the hot-water tank, the windows… do I really have to keep going? And tell me, Janey, how many customers do you have renting rooms right now?”

  Jane pursed her lips and refused to open them. She had only one. And Sandee did have a point about the condition. But still, she had been hoping that the property itself would be worth more, just in case she needed to sell. Even if it needed a few minor things done, it was an investment property.

  “We’re the only bed-and-breakfast in Lobster Bay,” Jane protested. She couldn’t believe that her childhood home and inheritance was worth so little.

  Sandee looked pitying. “But there are plenty of homes rented through Airbnb now, and nice inns in the neighboring towns. And if Tides isn’t full right now at peak season, then I doubt your balance sheet is favorable. You have to look at this realistically, Janey, because that’s what a buyer will do.”

  The page crinkled as Jane stuffed it into the folder and snapped it shut. “Well, Tides isn’t for sale.”

  Sandee took the folder. “No? But you asked for the appraisal.”

  “I changed my mind. I’m not selling, especially not for that price.” She couldn’t afford to. That would only pay for a few years of Addie’s care, and what would she do after that? Never mind the question of what she, herself, would live on. She’d lost money on the sale of her own house when she’d had to let it go to live here, and her retirement savings were pitiful.

  “Oh, well let me know if you change your mind.” Sandee grabbed the folder and made off toward her car.

  Jane blew out a breath as she watched the blonde fold herself back inside the small car.

  “You okay?” The voice came from the corner of the porch up near the ceiling, and Jane looked up to see Sally Littlefield standing atop the second-to-last rung of a ladder with a caulking gun in her hand as she fixed the sealant on a window. Sally, the town handywoman, was in her seventies but still spry in both body and mind. Her expression grim, the woman set down the caulking gun on the top of the ladder and quickly descended to the bottom. She wiped her hands on her overalls as she turned to Jane.

  “I’m fine,” Jane said, not wanting to burden Sally with her problems.

  “I heard what Sandee said to you. You really aren’t thinking about selling, are you?”

  “Not really. But it’s expensive to have Mom in Tall Pines, and I just wanted a number in case things don’t pick up here at the inn.”

  “I don’t know what number that wicked woman put in that file you’re holding, and it’s none of my business, but if I were you, I wouldn’t trust her.”

  “No?”

  Sally shook her head. “She isn’t good people. My guess is she’s up to something sketchy.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. She’s a real estate agent. She makes a commission. She wants me to sell for the highest price because then she’ll get a bigger payout.”

  Sally narrowed her eyes. She shoved her hands in her pockets and rocked back on her heels. “Ah-yuh, if you say so.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “I’m not. That woman always has something up her sleeve. Besides,” Sally added as she swept her arm toward the whitewashed Victorian house, “you can’t sell. Tides has been a pillar of this town for decades. You used to be booked well in advance for all three good-weather months and some guests in the winter too. I wouldn’t give up on it just yet.”

  Jane didn’t want to. For one, it looked like selling wasn’t going to gain her much anyway, and for two, she’d promised her mother. But how in the world was she going to get business to pick up? This wasn’t her area of expertise.

  Sally added, “And if you ask me, the repairs aren’t so extensive. Ah-yuh, you might have to replace those pipes or furnace eventually, but they’re still in good working order. It’s the weatherproofing that I think is the most important, and there’s a lot of little cosmetic things. But I have to tell you, I’m not sure I can handle it all myself.”

  Jane had a sinking feeling. “You can’t? It’s too complicated?” The work of finding a trusted contractor and negotiating a price and payment plan she could afford was another straw on her back. One she didn’t need added right now.

  “I can do it, but it would take me a while. Maybe months.”

  It was still summer. Surely, she would be able to finish before the snow set in.

  Sally patted Jane’s hand with a smile. “But you’re in luck. I happen to know that Shane Flannery is back in town.”

  Jane opened her mouth then shut it again. “Shane Flannery?” A face flashed in front of her mind’s eye, dulled by the years since high school. Surely it couldn’t be the same…

  “Retired from the navy,” Sally confirmed. “And he’s looking for carpentry work in the area. I’ve seen his work, and he’s very good. Inexpensive, too, since he’s just setting up his business.” She winked. “Plus, he’s not too sore on the eyes, if you understand me.”

  Jane smiled weakly. “I bet he isn’t.” The Shane Flannery she had known, back when her sister had dated him in
high school, had been the athletic type. Filled with energy and smiles, radiating a magnetic sort of charm, and so head over heels for Andrea that it had been adorable. Jane seemed to recall that he’d wanted to get married, but Andie had gone off to greener pastures. Broke the guy’s heart, from what she remembered.

  “I’ll look him up,” she promised Sally.

  And she meant it too. Obviously Shane and her sister had a history, but that had been decades ago, and Andie wasn’t here. Jane needed help from somewhere, and she couldn’t afford to be picky.

  “Good.” Sally turned back to the ladder. She paused with her hand on the rung and looked over her shoulder, her white braid obscuring half her face. “Don’t you give up on this place, Jane,” she said fiercely. “It’s your family legacy. Family is everything.”

  Jane knew that. Family was everything to her too.

  The problem was she didn’t have much family left. Her husband and son had passed on from this world. Her mother was fading away. Her sister didn’t return her calls. All she had was this ramshackle inn and the memories it contained. But those memories still warmed her at night, and that was something.

  She couldn’t give it up, wouldn’t give it up, without a fight. Somehow she had to bring more business to Tides. Then maybe she’d be able to scrape together enough money to pay for Addie’s care and eke out a modest living for herself. One thing was for sure, she had to make the effort or she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

  But even though she didn’t have much in the way of family, she wasn’t in this all alone. She had the two best friends in the world waiting for her, and between the three of them she was sure they’d figure something out.

  Chapter 4

  Claire Turner took a sip of her dark roast coffee as she watched Maxi whip up a quick sketch of the front of Claire’s bakery and cafe on the white napkin she’d plucked from the center of the table. They were seated at one of the round tables nestled on the sidewalk outside. The sun was shining, and Claire could almost hear the ocean waves crashing on the beach at the end of the road.

  “Jane is coming, isn’t she?” Maxi split her attention between the napkin and the front of the bakery before ducking her head again to add a potted plant near the door.

  “I think so. She texted me earlier and told me she had to visit with Addie first.” Claire looked down the street to see if she could spot Jane. She usually walked up from Tides, as it was only a few blocks away. “You don’t think something’s wrong with Addie, do you?”

  Maxi glanced up. “I hope not.” The breeze tugged at the strands of silvery blond hair that had slid over Maxi’s shoulder from her ponytail. Today she wore a loose pale-yellow skirt and flowing white blouse. Maxi was dressing more casual lately. Maybe her bank-president husband—whom Claire suspected influenced Maxi’s typically more formal appearance—was loosening up. It was about time.

  “Her coffee must be cold by now.” Claire touched the cup, finding it lukewarm beneath her fingers. “I’ll go refresh this. I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.”

  Claire brought the mug inside. The cafe was busy—customers sipping coffees, working on laptops, reading the papers. She waved to her regulars, Harry and Bert, who were seated at their usual table in the corner. And to think that just a few weeks ago the place had been flooded, and she’d feared she would be out of business.

  Thankfully that didn’t happen. Rob Bradford, who had opened the bread store across the street, had saved the day. Ironic, too, because at first Claire had feared that Bradford Breads would put her out of business. But it had all worked out, and luckily Ralph Marchand had been able to replace all the pipes in her shop in record time. Though the free pastries she’d supplied him with every day might have helped with that.

  Hailey, her assistant, gave Claire a perky smile and brushed away some of the hair haphazardly falling into her face. “We just got an order for a sandcastle cake to be delivered Saturday. I quoted the usual price.” Hailey referred to Claire’s signature confection—a cake built from hand-cut cake layers shaped like a sandcastle and frosted with sugar-coated fondant that resembled sand.

  “Great. I’ll take a look at the order in a bit.” Claire passed the mug over the counter to Hailey. “Would you mind dumping this and refilling it? Jane’s late, and it got cold.”

  “Of course.” Hailey took the mug cheerfully.

  Hailey was really more than just an assistant. In fact, Claire didn’t know what she’d do without her. Claire was grateful the plumbing issue hadn’t affected Hailey. She was a single mother with a daughter to support. But that had been mostly due to Rob. He’d seen a way for Hailey to help them both out and earn more money at it too, though Claire knew the extra money Rob was paying her was due more to his generous heart than the extra work. But she was happy Hailey could make more. The girl deserved it.

  Claire owed a lot to Rob. She snuck a peek across the street hoping to catch a glimpse of him inside his store and couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Though they’d started off with a business relationship, it had turned into much more. A pang of guilt shot through her as she thought about Jane and Maxi.

  Was it wrong that her life seemed to have come together in an unexpected but wonderful way while her friends appeared to be having problems?

  “Here’s Jane’s coffee, just the way she likes it.” Hailey held out the mug.

  “Thanks.” Claire took the mug, looked toward Bradford Breads one more time, wiped the silly smile off her face, and then headed back outside.

  She and Jane reached the table at the same time. “Brought you a fresh coffee. How’s your mom?”

  “She’s doing great, actually.” Jane hugged Claire, then Maxi, and sat down, pulling the mug in front of her. “Sorry I’m late. Sandee came by the inn.”

  Claire made a face.

  “Yech,” Maxi said.

  “I know. I had asked Dorian Wells to see how much Tides was worth—you know, just in case—and it turns out she’s sick so I got Sandee. I told her to take a hike, though. Turns out selling Tides isn’t going to help me out.”

  “You didn’t want to sell anyway, did you?” Maxi asked.

  Jane stared into her mug. “I promised my mother that I wouldn’t, but I’m not sure I’m cut out for running an inn. Besides, it’s expensive to keep Mom at Tall Pines, and now I’ve found out Medicaid won’t cover her stay.”

  “Oh no.” Claire pushed the plate with the chocolate chip muffin on it toward Jane.

  Her friend picked at the wrapper mechanically, peeling it away from the muffin beneath one side at a time.

  A bit distracted by something behind Claire, Maxi tore the top from the blueberry muffin that had been sitting in front of her while she sketched. “What do you mean? I thought you said your mother has no retirement savings to speak of.”

  “She doesn’t. Apparently, she’d taken out all their retirement savings over the years to put into the inn.”

  “Can you pay for her to stay at Tall Pines?” Claire knew that business had been down at Tides. Jane had staff to pay, and if no one was staying there, how could she make enough?

  “Well, that’s what I need your help for. I need to figure out how to bring in more money at Tides. The place is in disrepair, and I have no idea how to attract customers.” She stuffed another piece of muffin into her mouth, drowning out whatever else she had been about to say.

  Maxi started clucking and cooing under her breath. With a frown, Claire twisted to look behind her. She spotted a shy tabby in the shadow of one of the potted plants, looking wary. Maxi waved a piece of her blueberry muffin, trying to entice the feline closer.

  “Do cats even like blueberry muffins?” She might have better luck with a salmon muffin. Not that Claire thought she’d be able to sell one of those to anyone but a cat. And cats only paid in glares and disdainful flicks of their tails. At least that was what her own cat, Urchin, did.

  “I guess we’ll find out.” Maxi wiggled the piece of muffin, but the cat
continued to stare at her with uncertainty.

  Jane swallowed the last of her chocolate chip muffin and chased it down with a sip of coffee. “This is really good, Claire. I missed these.”

  “I have my own kitchen back now, so I can bake the way I’m used to. It was nice of Rob to let me use his, but things just didn’t seem to come out as good over there.”

  Jane teased, “You mean you weren’t holding back out of fear that Rob would steal the recipe?”

  “No, I’ve made them for Rob before.”

  Her two friends ooohed like they were back in high school again. Maxi resumed waggling her fingers at the wary cat.

  Claire willed the heat warming her cheeks away. She knew her friends were happy that she and Rob had connected, but the relationship still felt too new to talk about much. Claire steered away from the topic of her and Rob. “We were talking about Tides. What are you doing to get more customers?”

  The teasing twinkle in Jane’s eye flattened beneath the weight of the situation. “Not much, if I’m honest. Mom never did anything. Tourists always seemed to flock to the inn on their own. I know it’s a bit run-down and that’s part of the problem, but I’ll have Sally do some fixes. The truth is I’m not sure what to do to get more people to stay there.”

  Maxi broke off another piece of muffin and waved it under the table. Absently, she said, “Why don’t you do some of the things Claire was doing when she thought Bradford Breads was going to run her out of business?”

  “I can text Tammi. She’s an expert.” As Claire spoke, she was already pulling her phone out of the pocket of her apron. “You probably can’t have a three-for-one sale like I did, but you could put out some newspaper ads or get in touch with the radio station for an ad there. Awareness is half the battle. Maybe you aren’t getting as many bookings because more people are using Airbnb. You have to do something to make Tides stand out.”

 

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