“You sound like a grandmother,” Kathy teased, then grimaced. “I’m sorry. I forgot it’s been less than a week since you lost your grandma.”
“It’s okay. I do pretty well during the day. It’s at night when I have time to think that I start to cry.”
They loaded the groceries in the back of the car and Kathy returned the cart to the store, then they took off.
“I love that little store. I love this little village,” Kathy commented as they passed the self-clean car wash.
“Not many amenities, but Rochester is only an hour away. And you can order just about anything online these days. There’s nothing wrong with door-to-door delivery.”
Kathy took in the scenery like a tourist. She seemed to have rose-colored glasses on. Did she even see how many run-down houses and rickety barns lined the highway? Most people thought of poverty as being just an urban problem, but there was plenty of it right there in Ward County, where the summer people in their pretty little cottages on the water bore an unfair portion of the tax burden. Before she got serious about trying to persuade Herb against selling their property, she had better make a point of asking about the county and school taxes.
They arrived back at the house and Kathy insisted on making dinner. Tori didn’t object. Her specialty appeared to be making coffee and boiling water for tea. Take-out was always the best option at her house.
Tori went back out to the yard and packed up the unsold yard sale items. Some of the iffy ones went straight into the Dumpster. Herb closed the door to the bait shop and locked it at precisely six o’clock, just as Tori was closing the door to Lotus Lodge’s unit 1.
“What’s for supper?” he asked, rubbing hands together.
“Chicken. Kathy’s cooking, so at least it’ll taste good.”
Anissa’s blue truck rumbled to a halt in the parking area. She got out, carrying a brown paper bag. “I didn’t know what you were serving, so I brought a bottle of red and white.”
“Either works for me,” Herb said, as they ambled over to the house.
The aroma of Italian spices greeted them as they walked into the kitchen. “Something smells good,” Herb said.
Kathy looked up from the salad she was assembling. “It’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes.”
“Then we’ve got time for a drink,” Anissa said, and set the bag on the counter. “Sorry they’re not chilled. I know it’s gauche, but we can toss a few ice cubes into the glasses.”
“I’ve done it before,” Tori admitted.
“I’m going to wash up,” Herb said. “Been handling worms half the day,” he said and disappeared in the direction of the bathroom.
Tori gestured for Anissa to take a seat at the table and washed her hands at the kitchen sink. By the time she sat down, Kathy had opened the Chardonnay. She set the bottle, glasses, and a bowl of ice and some tongs on the table, then sat down. Herb joined them a minute later.
“Oh, Gramps, I forgot. I got you some lottery tickets,” Tori said, and reached for her purse on the counter. She retrieved them and handed them to her grandfather.
“No scratch-offs?” he asked.
“I didn’t know which ones to buy.”
“You didn’t get Powerball.”
“The odds are astronomical. I figured you had a better shot at Mega Millions.”
“What’s the jackpot?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Twenty million. Something like that.”
“It’ll have to do,” Herb groused, and shoved the tickets into the breast pocket of his flannel shirt. “Thanks.”
“Mr. Cannon,” Anissa said, her voice subdued. “Have you ever seen strange lights out on the bay?”
“Nope,” he said succinctly. “Lights from boats, yes. Strange lights? Nope.”
“Why would people be out on the bay late at night?” Kathy asked. “Isn’t it dangerous?”
“Only if you don’t know what you’re doing,” Herb said.
“Did you ever do much night fishing?” Tori asked.
Herb shook his head. “I don’t really like fishing. I always thought I might like to learn to play golf. Maybe I’ll do that when I retire to Florida.”
“When are you going to do that, Mr. Cannon?” Anissa asked.
“As soon as I sell this place—or I win the Powerball.”
“Never,” Tori mouthed.
“You hear anything about that house yet?” Herb asked Kathy.
She shook her head. “No. Tori thinks I made a hasty decision in making an offer.”
“I’ll say. You don’t really know anything about the area, do you?”
She shook her head. “But I like it here.”
“It’s nice. In the summer,” he amended. “Come winter? It’s like living on the moon. Dark, cold, and inhospitable.”
“I thought I might look up the local historical society to see if I can find some pictures of the house in better days, and to find out the history of the area.”
“Nothing much ever happened around here,” Herb said. He frowned, as though rethinking that last statement. “Well, not since prohibition, anyway.”
“Prohibition?”
“Yeah, smugglers used to sneak beer, gin, and whiskey across the lake from Canada. They say a house up on Willow Point has a really big basement where they used to stash the stuff before they could distribute it.”
“Really?” Anissa asked.
“No lie.”
“I never heard that before,” Tori said.
“There’s lots of things you haven’t heard,” Herb said, pouring himself a glass of wine. He bypassed the ice.
“Why would rum runners want to come to such an out-of-the-way place?” Tori asked.
“I think you just answered your own question,” Herb said. “You think this place is dead now, think how it must have been a hundred years ago. There was a bridge, but nothing else.”
“How would a boat find its way across the lake in the dark?”
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Herb said, taking a sip of his wine. He grimaced. “We got any beer left?”
Kathy got up to get him a can from the fridge.
“What have you girls got planned for this evening?”
Kathy and Anissa looked to Tori to answer.
“We thought we might just hang out in the boat house.”
“What for?”
“Isn’t there supposed to be a meteor shower tonight?” Kathy offered.
“Not that I heard,” Herb said, cracking the tab on his beer.
“Anissa and I have a lot of years to catch up on,” Tori said.
“That boat house is really dirty. Are you sure you want to sit up there with all the spiders and God knows what else?” Herb asked.
“Kathy cleaned the windows,” Tori said.
“Anything else?”
“Not yet,” Kathy admitted.
They sipped their adult beverages. It was Kathy who broke the quiet. “Tori says you want to sell the business.”
Herb’s eyes widened and he cocked his head to look at his granddaughter. He did not seem pleased, but he did answer the question. “I’m thinking about it.”
“What do you think it’s worth?”
“Kath!” Tori implored.
“I need to get a feel for what the business climate is here in this part of Ward County.”
A plausible, if dubious explanation.
Herb shrugged. “Half a million.”
Tori nearly choked on her wine. “Are you crazy?”
Herb looked at her quizzically. “No. There’re houses on the east side of the bay that are going for more than that and on much smaller lots.”
“Have you thought about holding the mortgage for a potential buyer?” Kathy pressed.
“No. You got someone in mind?” he asked, looking across the table at Anissa.
“Yes, Tori.”
“Kath!” Tori cried again.
“Tori?” Herb asked. “Why would she want to waste her life
here?”
“Because she loves this place,” Kathy said matter-of-factly.
Herb turned to look at his granddaughter. “And why is that?”
A walloping surge of emotion swelled within her and Tori had to force herself to speak. “Because this is the place where I’ve felt most loved.”
“Your mom and dad love you,” Herb said.
“Yeah, but you and Grandma loved me more.”
“Oh, Tori, you know that’s not true.”
“No, Gramps, I don’t,” she said in all sincerity.
It was a terribly awkward moment that Kathy quickly diffused. “So, what would you let Tori buy the business from you for?”
For a long moment, Herb looked thoughtful, but then he shook his head. “No, I couldn’t do it—not in good conscience. Because this place would suck her life away, and in the end she’d just resent it and me.”
His words stung like acid on a wound. He had no faith in her or her abilities. Well, what had she expected?
Tori pushed back her chair. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, rose, and headed for the back of the house.
The door to what she now thought of as her room was ajar. Daisy was sacked out on the bed. She opened her eyes and blinked as Tori came in and sat down beside her, then rose and stretched before climbing onto Tori’s lap.
“I knew you’d be here for me,” she whispered into the cat’s fur, hugging her tightly. Daisy purred even louder.
Tori sat there, staring at nothing, feeling empty—too empty to even cry. What would she do with the rest of her life? Days ago, she was set to send out resumes to schools in three different counties. Now the thought of going back to the classroom made her feel miserable. Talking with Kathy about the possibilities for the bait shop and reviving the Lotus Lodge had sparked the entrepreneurial spirit within her. The idea of living across the street from Kathy had been another perk she couldn’t have anticipated a week before. Despite her grandfather’s announcement about selling, until Kathy had actually asked him point blank about the possibility of letting her acquire the business, she’d still held out hope.
Now she felt a grief akin to losing her grandmother. And maybe that was part of the problem. If she could no longer be a part of Lotus Bay, her grandmother would be forever lost to her.
That was stupid. She’d hold her grandmother in her heart forever, but somehow the idea of losing this little piece of paradise would wound her forever.
Daisy suddenly jumped down to the floor and Tori’s head turned at the sound of a knock at the still-open door. Herb stood before her. “Can I come in?”
Tori shrugged, hanging her head once more.
Herb stepped inside the room and sat beside her, resting his hands on his thighs and looking very uncomfortable. “I never knew you loved this place so much.”
“I always thought you did.”
“I told you; this place was your grandmother’s dream, not mine. You never told me you were interested in going into business.”
“It’s a recent development,” Tori admitted.
“What would your mom and dad say if I let you take over the business?”
“Hopefully, ‘good luck.’”
“And if they didn’t?”
“You may have noticed; we’re not all that close.”
Herb nodded. “Your grandmother and I were unhappy that our kids grew up and moved away. We figured they would, but not to other states. She was heartbroken.”
“And you?”
“I always thought your dad would show an interest in the business. That we could be Cannon and Son.”
“But not Cannon and Granddaughter?”
“It never occurred to me,” he said. He let out a long breath. “I tried to talk your grandma into leaving this place, but she wouldn’t hear of it. The word ‘snowbird’ became a dirty one around here. But that’s what I want. You can understand that, can’t you?”
“What if I could turn this place around? What if I could make it pay for both of us?”
“Honey, you’d have to be a miracle worker.”
“You’ve got your pension and social security. Could you live on that in Florida?”
“I sure could, but it’s only that money that’s kept this place going. I couldn’t pay the taxes here and live down south.”
“I could get a job substitute teaching during the winter and run this place in the summer.”
“It wouldn’t be enough,” Herb said firmly. “I’m sorry, Tori, but you need to face reality.”
Tori nodded. “I guess I’ll pack up tomorrow and go back to Rochester. Maybe I can find a roommate and get a job at McDonalds.”
“Aw, don’t be like that. I told you, you can stay here as long as you want. I like having you and your friends around. I don’t suppose I’ll find a buyer right away. Might be a year or more. That should be long enough for you to get back on your feet.”
“I’d like to stay,” she said.
“Good.” He patted her knee. “Kathy said supper was nearly ready. You coming?”
Tori nodded.
Herb got up and headed out the door. Tori followed, literally dragging her feet.
When she got to the kitchen, the table had been set and Herb had retaken his seat. Tori helped Kathy serve supper before she sat down, too.
Conversation was nil as they passed the salad bowl and helped themselves to it and boiled sweet corn Kathy must have found in the freezer. Herb dug in, but Tori had no appetite.
“Kathy, I knew you could bake cookies, but I had no idea you were such a good cook,” Herb said.
“If I intend to serve guests at my bed and breakfast, I had to learn to cook. My mother was terrible at it. She gave me a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking when I was in high school. It took me a couple of years, but I made almost every recipe.”
“Which ones didn’t you make?” Anissa asked.
“Aspic,” Kathy said and wrinkled her nose. “I mean, where do you buy leg of cow to make gelatin, anyway?”
Tori managed a weak giggle.
“Eat up,” Herb advised, and gave her a wink.
Tori picked up her fork and caught sight of Kathy who gave her a comforting smile that seemed to say we’ll talk later. If there was a way for Tori to ever own the Cannon compound, it would be Kathy who figured it out.
A little kernel of hope flickered within her once again.
CHAPTER 13
Clouds had gathered in the sky to the west, which was stained with Easter egg colors of peachy-pinks and mellow blues. “It sure is pretty here,” Anissa said as the three women headed for the boathouse. “I think I’m going to like living here. Now if I can just support myself to afford it.”
Tori said nothing, but took the lead. Herb kept an old Chris Craft wooden boat that looked like it had been an extra from the movie On Golden Pond. Tori remembered riding in it years ago, but Herb hadn’t launched it in at least a decade. It would need a lot of work if some collector wanted to restore it. But it sat in the boat house, taking up valuable space that could have been used by a paying tenant. She’d mention that to Herb. There had to be more ways they could promote what they had and make the business pay for itself. She’d mention it to Kathy first, but not that night. They had other things to contend with.
Tori threw a switch and the dusty light bulb hanging over the boat barely brightened the gloom.
“I think your grandpa’s right,” Anissa said, looking around at the cobwebs that seemed to fill every corner. “This place is filthy. And I think Kathy’s right; we’re never going to be able to see what’s going on at the house from here.”
“I know, but I wanted Gramps to see us come out here. We’ll leave the light on and go sit in Kathy’s car when it’s fully dark,” Tori said.
“Is there anywhere to sit?” Kathy asked.
“I thought I saw some old folding chairs up in the loft. We may as well go up there.”
Kathy and Anissa followed her up the ladder. Another dusty ligh
t bulb failed to brighten that space, too. Tarps covered a pile in one corner. Tori pulled one free and found a load of metal lawn chairs that had once been painted in primary colors, but were now rusty and dirty from disuse.
“A wire brush would get rid of most of the rust on these and we could repaint them to look like new,” Kathy suggested. “They’d look darling out on the lawn. Great for curb appeal.”
“Sounds like you want to help Gramps sell this place.”
“Don’t be so quick to give up on your dreams. I’m not.”
“You’ve got an inheritance coming in a few months; I don’t.”
“Me, either,” Anissa said.
“That talk you had with him didn’t go well, did it?” Kathy asked.
Tori shook her head.
“I wouldn’t push the idea now, but we’ll figure something out.”
“And if he sells it fast?”
“We’ll figure something out,” Kathy repeated with authority.
Tori would have loved to believe her.
They pulled the chairs out and dusted them off as best they could before pulling them to the windows on the south side of the boathouse. “That was really interesting what your grandpa had to say about rum runners,” Anissa said. “I had no idea that kind of thing happened around here.”
“Did you know there were stops for the underground railroad all along the shore of Lake Ontario?” Kathy asked.
“How do you know?” Tori asked.
“I’ve been Googling like crazy since I first thought of buying that house across the road. I need to find ways to market the whole guest experience, and sell the area to people as well.”
“You’re going to have to call it something other than the house across the road—if you get it, that is,” Anissa warned. “Have you got a name for your B and B?”
“That’s one idea I haven’t come up with yet. Willow Point is nearby, but not close enough. Still, there is a willow tree on the property, but it doesn’t look healthy. I can’t use that in the name if the thing is going to fall over in the next big wind storm.”
“Good point.”
They spent the next half-hour brainstorming names, but Kathy shook her head so often she was in danger of incurring an injury. By then only a whisper of light shone over the left rim of the hills surrounding the bay.
With Baited Breath Page 16