She wondered, if God had afforded her a future glimpse of this life she and Grant were living now, would she have been more content and less fretful for what she didn’t have in the early years of their marriage? She sighed. Probably not. After fifty-eight years in this skin, she knew herself well enough to know that God tended to have to repeat life’s lessons before she finally got them.
The clock in the upstairs hall chimed four o’clock. Two large pans of lasagna were in the oven—and filling the house with an irresistible aroma—and she had almost two hours before the kids started arriving for their weekly Tuesday gathering.
Tonight would probably be the last time everyone was together for a few weeks given the big “trading spaces” escapade that was going on between her two eldest daughters. They would both be busy getting settled, and since Grant—bless his heart—had offered to let Corinne’s family stay at the inn for a week while they did some painting at their new home, which was Dallas and Danae’s old home.
Thankfully they hadn’t booked all the rooms for the intended week, which ordinarily would have been a bad thing, but now she would keep Landyn’s room and the room Tim and Link had shared as boys open. And she would hope the guests in the rooms they had booked wouldn’t mind having three little girls running about the inn. She would be so glad when everyone got settled in their new places and the upheavals they’d each been through were resolved.
This running an inn and trying to be the quintessential grandma at the same time was not working out like she’d envisioned. She hated how often she felt torn between her new career and her family—most of whom were supposed to be grown and independent, but apparently some of them had yet to get the memo.
She did love their Tuesday night family dinners, but as she recalled, one of the reasons Grant had instituted the tradition was so the kids would have a set time to visit the inn—and would make themselves scarce the rest of the week.
Instead, it seemed she was babysitting somebody’s kids every time she turned around. Landyn and Corinne were both thoughtful to not ask her too often, but she didn’t think they considered that even if they asked only twice a month, the other one likely also asked twice—or more—and that meant at least one day every week taken up with babysitting. And it wasn’t just the time she had the little girls but the time spent cleaning up after they left, too. And all that on top of cleaning up after Tuesday nights. Grant always helped her, but his idea of “that’s good enough” was very different from hers.
She sighed. Grandchildren—especially granddaughters—were something she’d dreamed of while she planned the Chicory Inn in her imagination. She didn’t want to miss a blessing. And her time with those five little girls was a blessing of the highest degree. But her daughters forgot that she also had a job these days. And the inn had turned into a full-time job and then some.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had time to sit for more than five minutes and just enjoy the inn. And when she had time to sit, it was usually because the inn wasn’t booked, so then what could have been a rest turned into a worry fest.
Oh, Lord, help me to live in the moment. Forgive my ungrateful attitude.
She’d thought she would have grown up by now, but she remembered praying that same prayer almost daily when the kids were all living at home.
For some reason, she’d been thinking of those days often lately. Probably because of Corinne and Jesse’s upcoming move. She’d never seen her eldest daughter in such a tizzy. And as frazzled as Corinne was, Jesse was equally at ease and absolutely flying at the prospect of going back to school. It didn’t help Corinne that Danae was so excited for the move. Audrey was thankful her second-born had come out of the funk she’d been in for most of her childless marriage. Unfortunately, Danae’s delight was the reason for Corinne’s distress.
Audrey sighed. She feared both of her daughters were in for rude awakenings.
She heard Grant come in through the garage. He was always like a kid at Christmas on Tuesdays. She took a breath and willed herself to put her worries aside. No use spoiling her sweet husband’s favorite day of the week.
“There you are.” Grant appeared around the corner. “You’re not expecting guests, are you?”
“No. Why?”
“Somebody just pulled in. The car had Missouri tags, but I didn’t get a look at the county.”
“Oh, dear. Well, nobody called. And if it’s a walk-in, will you please tell them we’re not open tonight?”
He turned on his heel and headed through the front foyer.
She jumped up and hurried after him.
He stopped short and turned to her. “I’ll take care of it. You go sit.”
She gave him a wry smile. “I’d feel better coming with you. I don’t trust you to ‘just say no.’ ”
He chuckled and started to make some retort, but as he opened the front door, they saw a cream-colored sedan heading down the driveway toward Chicory Lane, going fast enough to kick up dust. Grant winked at her. “Guess they heard you coming.”
Audrey frowned. “Did they drive all the way in?” It wasn’t unusual to have people get lost on the labyrinth of county roads and use the entrance to the inn’s driveway as a turnaround, but it appeared this car had come all the way up the long drive.
Grant frowned. “They did. That’s strange.”
“Well, good riddance,” Audrey said. She glanced across the lawn as the sedan turned onto the lane and disappeared over the hill. “Is everything ready for tonight?”
“I’ve got things set up for yard games.” Grant wiped his brow with his shirt sleeve. “I just hope it cools off a little before we go out.”
“It’s July, my love. Cool is a relative term. But I think you and I are the only ones who mind so much. Shall we eat inside though?”
“No, let’s tough it out in the shade. The trumpet vine keeps things pretty cool under the pergola. We can set up a fan if there’s no breeze. Don’t you have a hunk of ice in the deep freeze? We can blow the fan across that. Should keep things tolerable.”
“Okay. I think the girls are both bringing homemade ice cream, so that’ll help too.” At the mention of her daughters, her thoughts picked up where they’d left off before Grant came in, and she instantly resumed worry mode.
“Yep, ice cream ought to do the trick. But right now I need a glass of sweet tea.” Grant gave her a kiss, but when he pulled away, he studied her, and his expression told her she hadn’t managed to smooth the worry lines from her forehead in time.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, no you don’t. None of that. Tell me what’s bothering you.”
She sighed. “I’m just thinking about our girls. I hope they’re not headed for a falling out.”
“Corinne and Danae? Why would they be?”
That man could be so dense sometimes. “Because Corinne is giving up everything she loves and Danae is taking it out from under her.”
“Well, that’s a whale of a way to look at it.”
“I’m not saying that’s Danae’s intent, but that’s how Corinne probably sees it. And I’m afraid Danae is just trying to fill her empty arms with that beautiful big house. I hope she realizes there won’t be babies in those bedrooms when they sign the contract.”
“I don’t think our girls are that petty, Audrey. Give them a little credit.”
“I know. And even if they were, they’d eventually work it out. Just let a mother worry a little, will you?”
He raised his eyebrows. “If you feel good about that, you go right ahead.”
That made her smile. As she knew was his intent.
She rose, pushed her chair in, and went to check on the lasagna, patting her sweet husband’s cheek as she went by.
She’d get a better feel for things after she saw the girls together tonight.
29
Well, I think that’s it.” Corinne blew her bangs off her forehead and surveyed the mountain of moving boxes in f
ront of her.
Landyn, with a wiggly four-month-old on each hip, shook her head. “That’s a lot of stuff, sis.”
“I know. I feel a giant garage sale coming on.” She felt a good cry coming on too.
“Don’t forget, I called dibs to go through stuff first.”
“Don’t worry. I told Danae and Bree I’d have all you guys over as soon as we get moved in. You can have at it.”
“Maybe you should have the garage sale here?” Landyn looked a little shell shocked.
Corinne laughed. “Bite your tongue, sister. I am not lugging all that stuff back here.”
“Any bets on whether the overflow will fit in that garage at Danae’s?”
She growled at her sister. “You are not being very helpful.”
“Just being realistic.” Landyn laughed, but she must have sensed the panic welling up in Corinne, because she hiked the babies up on her hips and gave her most winsome smile. “We’ll help you guys. It will all turn out just fine. And believe me, I know how you feel. You never saw Chase’s studio apartment in New York, but I about freaked when I first saw it. It was about the size of your master bedroom closet.”
“You mean Danae’s master bedroom closet. My new closet is the size of a postage stamp.”
“Before you know it, this will all be over and everybody will be settled in and back to normal.” She moved close and gave Corinne as much of a hug as she could manage with a fifteen-pound baby in each arm.
Corinne put down the box she was carrying and wrapped her arms around the three of them. “Thanks for coming by to offer moral support. I mean it. It really helped.”
“You’ll be fine. And you can always visit Danae if you get homesick for this house.”
She shook her head. “It wouldn’t be the same.” Not at all the same. And now she wondered if she’d ever feel comfortable visiting the sister she loved. Had they made a gigantic mistake?
“I hate to leave you in this jungle,” Landyn said, heading to the corner of the garage where she’d stashed the diaper bags and other baby paraphernalia. “But Chase will be home by the time I get there.”
Corinne glanced at the clock on her phone. “Yeah, Jesse’ll be home in a few minutes too. Hopefully with pizza.”
She heard the faint ringing of the phone from inside the house. “I’d better get that. Thanks again, sis.” She ran inside and caught the phone mid-ring. “Hello?”
Silence. But she could have sworn someone was on the other end.
“Hello? This is Corinne. Hello?”
And then the line went unmistakably dead. She felt sure someone had been on the line. It was the second time this week she’d gotten a hang-up call. Of course, her mind immediately went to Michaela Creeve. But when she’d told Jesse about the first call, he reminded her that it could be someone trying to reach Dallas or Danae. Both couples had decided to use the move as an opportunity to get rid of their landlines and go to cell phones only, but they’d agreed to leave the landline phones connected until they were both moved in so the various workers coming and going from their houses and everyone helping with the moves would have access to a phone if needed.
She wondered if Danae had gotten similar calls at their house. She wanted to ask her sister but decided she’d rather not know. Because if she found out Danae hadn’t gotten any hang-up calls, she would definitely suspect it was Michaela.
She listened to the silence for another moment before putting the cordless phone back in its charger. She took comfort in the fact that this number would be disconnected in a few days. And after today, Jesse would no longer have his company phone, so that was yet another connection to Michaela Creeve that would be severed.
Corinne could scarcely believe how quickly everything had unfolded. Jesse would pull in the driveway for good tonight. Today had been his last day at Preston-Brilon. They were grateful the company had allowed him to stay on a full month after he’d given his notice.
But a week from tomorrow would be their first day of living in a much smaller house. On a much smaller salary.
Over the past two weeks—in the unbearable heat and humidity of a Missouri August—they’d boxed up their belongings and moved everything into two bays of the three-car garage. And Landyn was right. Even with leaving behind the furniture Dallas and Danae wanted, there was no way even half of their things would fit into the “new” house.
Mom had the girls overnight tonight, and she and Jesse would finish cleaning and getting the house emptied. In the morning, the movers would bring Dallas and Danae’s things, and she and Jesse would go over and start painting, and then they’d see how much of their stuff they could fit into Dallas and Danae’s house. No, their house. She was finding it a challenge to let go of the old and embrace the new.
Thankfully, Mom and Dad were letting them sleep at the inn during the transition. It would be a long week. Admittedly worse for her parents than for her and Jesse and the girls.
If there was one good thing about all this, it was that Jesse was no longer a part of Preston-Brilon, which meant the Wicked Witch of the West no longer had any power over them. Without mentioning it to Jesse—because he had his plate full with getting enrolled for school and taking care of the move—Corinne had done some checking to see if Michaela still had the right to file sexual harassment charges after Jesse left the company.
From what Jim Houser, their attorney friend from church, said, the statute of limitations would expire one hundred and eighty days from the last time Jesse had traveled to Chicago with Michaela. November 19, according to Corinne’s count. After that, it would be much more difficult for Michaela Creeve to file charges.
But until then, she was afraid she’d be holding her breath every waking moment.
* * *
Audrey carried the heavy platter to the table, then thought better of it. They could eat buffet style. Having five extra at the table every night for the last three days had been fun. But apparently three days was her limit, because it was starting to feel more like work.
Grant seemed to thrive on having his granddaughters there, tagging after him all over the property like ducklings after their mother. And it did warm her heart to look out the window and see them tagging behind, asking questions and making Grant laugh.
If she hadn’t been so busy keeping their laundry done and food on the table—and of course, worrying about how they were going to make up the loss of having mostly empty guest rooms this entire week—she might have enjoyed it more.
She kept reminding herself that it was only temporary and they would be gone by this time next week, and she’d probably miss their incessant chattering. Of course, they’d be back on Tuesday night. And every Tuesday after that, Lord willing.
She heard Grant and the girls come in through the back door, and hushed whispers coming from the mud room. They were up to something. No doubt something Grant had schemed.
“Supper’s just about ready,” she hollered down the hallway.
That set off a cacophony of stage whispers before they paraded into the kitchen wearing smug smiles, Grant bringing up the rear, with his hands behind his back.
“You girls need to get washed up for supper,” she said, pretending she didn’t see that Grant was concealing something behind his back. Probably a bouquet of wildflowers from down by the creek.
But they ignored her and marched up the staircase as if on an important mission. She dried her hands and went to the bottom of the stairs. “What are you guys doing up there?”
“You’ll see, Gram!” Sari said, while the other girls giggled.
“Yeah,” Sadie echoed. “You’ll see, Gram.”
“Can I come up?”
A muffled commotion followed and Grant hollered down, “Not quite yet.”
“Almost, Gram. Just a couple more minutes,” Sari said, sounding much older than her not-quite-six years.
A hammer pounded three sharp raps, and it was all she could do not to march up there and see what they were destroying. But she
resisted, hoping her faith in her husband wasn’t misplaced. You never knew when it came to those girls who had him wrapped around their pinkies.
“Okay, Gram! You can come up now! You can come up!”
There was much jumping and stomping and squealing as she ascended the stairway, bracing herself for whatever it was that had them all so excited.
When she reached the top of the stairs, they all beamed at her—Grant widest beam of all—and pointed to a newly installed sign over the door to Landyn’s old room, where the Pennington family was sleeping.
Painted on an old piece of board that looked like a leftover from Chase and Landyn’s rustic loft restoration, the sign read: Reserved for Friends and Family.
“Poppa says we have a permament reservation now,” Sadie said with a bob of her pointy little chin.
“Don’t worry, Gram,” Grant said with a wink. “It’s not a permament fixture. It can be easily uninstalled should we ever actually manage to get paying guests here.”
She grinned. “That’s good to know, Poppa.” She inspected the sign for the girls’ sake.
“Do you like it, Gram?” Sadie asked, eyes eager.
Audrey bent to scoop Simone into her arms. “I love it, girls! And I’m so glad you have a reserved room here.”
She put a hand over her heart, emotion catching her unaware. Those three had a spot reserved right there, too.
30
Jesse, have you seen Simone’s nightgown?” Corinne rifled through the diaper bag for a third time with no success.
“The orange one?” His voice came from the cavern of the closet where he was searching for something in his own duffle bag.
“No, that’s Sadie’s. Simone doesn’t even own an orange nightgown. The one I’m looking for is yellow with little white flowers.” This living out of suitcases and sleeping every night with three little girls scattered on the floor around them was for the birds.
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