by Susan Hatler
Brian plucked at his bouquet, sending petals down onto the grass. I grabbed his hand, and gave him a look. He stared at me, and stopped immediately. I whispered, “You know what else I remember? That she promised to come here for my sixteenth birthday. She didn’t, and that is hard to forgive. I waited up all night.” I pointed at the inn behind us. “I sat right there by the windows, waiting for her to come up the driveway, and she never did.”
Brian shushed me, and turned back toward Mom, who was still talking. “When we got married she made our wedding cake, because she didn’t trust anyone in town to do it.”
I edged toward my brother. “Or, what about the times they were supposed to come back for our graduations? They didn’t make those either. That’s pretty unforgivable.”
Brian elbowed me this time. “Chill out.”
I glared at him. “Or, how about that time when she promised to—”
“If you’re going to forgive them, then you have to forgive all of it. Now hush.”
Dad shot us a weird look, and we straightened, then stared forward.
Mom brought her hands together in the prayer position. “Oh, she was so romantic.”
“Romantic?” The word burst out of my mouth before I could stop it. “Are you talking about Grandma? She was not at all romantic.”
“Why yes, she was,” she said, sounding flustered.
I shook my head, adamantly. “Grandma wasn’t like that at all. She was the most unromantic person alive, and you’d know that if you’d stuck around.”
Brian hissed at me. “What happened to forgiveness?” he asked.
“That ship sailed when Mom said Grandma was romantic. Please. She’s the woman who told me that if I really thought I was in love with Ian McBride then I was either terminally ill or out of my mind. Turned out she was right. The second one.”
“Ian McBride was a poser,” Brian said mildly. “Everyone knew it, but you.”
My face reddened. “Take that back. I hadn’t developed good taste in guys yet. He was my first love, though, and if Grandma had been romantic she would have understood that.”
Mom raised her hands in the air, then lowered them slowly. “Wendy, please. We knew her well before you did. Plus, we were grownups when we knew her, so our perceptions are different than yours.”
I crossed my arms. “You mean she didn’t have to raise you.”
Instead of taking offense, she took on a thoughtful look. “Well, she sort of did. I was lacking in a lot of ways. Do you know I had never cooked a meal before I moved into the inn?”
I blinked. “No, I didn’t know that.”
Mom looked pleased. “It’s true. She taught me to cook. I remember the first time I tried to fry chicken. It came out burned on the outside and raw in the middle. It was awful.”
“You never fed us burned chicken.” I had to give her that. Mom was always a good cook.
“That’s because she taught me how to cook it properly. She always said that my chicken that first night was the most charred chicken she’d ever seen. She was the one person I never wanted to disappoint.”
I stepped forward. “But Grandma didn’t even want a memorial, and you’re ignoring her wishes. Don’t you think that would disappoint her?”
She shook her head. “Memorials aren’t for the ones who leave us. They’re for those who get left behind.”
“Well, you left us behind,” I retorted. “Should we have had a memorial for the two of you?”
Mom sputtered. “That is hardly the same. You can’t still be holding onto all of that, can you? It’s silly to hold onto anger over things that happened so long ago. Brian isn’t holding on to any bad feelings. Isn’t that right? Tell her, Brian.”
He glanced away, then inhaled deeply. “I think her emotions are valid, Mom.”
My emotions were valid? Really? Mom’s mouth curved downward, and I gaped at Brian like he was nuts. I was pretty sure he was, or that his brain had been hijacked by the alien horde.
I raised a brow. “Emotionally valid?”
“I got it from reality TV.” His cheeks turned pink, and his eyes were glassy. Uh, oh. He was close to tears. My heart twisted in my chest. He had stood up for me, but he’d only done it out of loyalty. It’s not like he’d been sincere. He’d already told me he thought it was stupid to keep being mad at them, and it meant a lot to me that he’d taken my side anyway.
Dad lit the lanterns, making it clear he was doing his best to save this memorial, or at least turn it around. The lanterns floated upward, and tears came to my eyes. I’d sincerely wanted to forgive them for leaving, but all I could think about was the times I’d needed them, and they hadn’t been there for me. Like Olivia had said, they must have had their reasons, or whatever, but I couldn’t get past the facts.
But why did their reasons make what they did any better? How did they have the right to get what they needed—to travel, and live their nomadic life— when I didn’t have a choice in where I lived? Why did I have to forgive them for my needing parents? I was the younger person, so why should I have to be the bigger one?
Mom wandered to the edge of the water and Dad went to her. The sound of her sobs floated toward me. Brian walked in their direction a few steps, leaving me standing there alone.
Mom broke out of Dad’s arms, spinning to face me, and cried, “Fine, Wendy. I will stay here forever if that’s what it takes to have a relationship with you. All I’ve ever wanted was a relationship with you! We’ll find a place in Blue Moon Bay and settle down. Will that fix things?”
My mouth dropped open, but no words came out. This was the moment I’d been waiting for my entire life—to have my family together and stable and happy. But something didn’t feel quite right. In the corner of my mind, I pictured my grandma’s face and that harsh line between her brows when she wasn’t pleased. Unfortunately, I had no idea what she was trying to tell me.
****
The next morning, Brian and I were shocked to receive another offer on the inn, from a company that beat the Totskys’s price. After a long discussion, we accepted the second offer instead. It broke my heart to sell the inn, but the will required us to accept the offer, since it was well above market price, and at least this way there was a chance the new owners would keep the inn running, and not tear it down. Brian was melancholy and I tried not to think about losing the inn, but there was nothing we could do about it now. It was done.
The new cappuccino machine arrived, and was a tiny bright spot in my morning. With the heavy sadness inside me, I grasped for whatever happiness I could find, before we had to leave the inn for good. I set the espresso machine on its own table in the lobby so that guests could use it, too. But right then, Max and I were the only ones near the blessed machine. We were discussing the pros and cons of espresso versus drip, while waiting for the hot water to spew through the fresh grounds I’d tamped down moments ago.
“I’ll miss the gang at Bay Side Coffee, but I need my first cup as soon as possible in the mornings,” I told him, trying to keep my mind off the elephant in the room. I hadn’t told Max about the new offer, because then it would feel more real.
“Getting caffeine in your system is a big requirement for you, huh? I’ll have to remember that.” Max laughed, the sound warming my heart. I hugged him impulsively, and caught a whiff of his enticing aftershave above the delectable smell of the cappuccino. Everything would work out the way it was supposed to. I had to believe that.
Behind us, one of the arriving guests stood at the front desk talking to Brian. He was a regular, and excited about the renovations. Right now he was raving about our new website and brochures, calling them genius and creative. Way to go, Megan!
“I’ve never seen anything so interesting and wonderful.” The man’s voice carried slightly, as Max poured the espresso shots into my cup. “Can you tell me the name of your web designer? My boss wants to revamp her site, and I’d love to recommend the person you used.”
Brian gave him Megan’s bu
siness card, and sang her praises.
I smiled at Max, but it was bittersweet. In many ways, I felt happier than I had in a long time—maybe ever. But the good things in my life were tinged with a dark cloud, because we were losing the inn, my biggest memory of my grandma. With that sad thought, I poured milk and sugar into my cup, and stirred.
The lobby doors opened. My gaze darted that way, expecting to see a guest coming in, but instead it was them . . . the Totskys, who had lied to us about running the inn, just so they could buy the property for its oceanfront views. I pasted a smile on my face, determined to be professional, and headed toward them.
Mrs. Totsky strode across the lobby in her high heels, with Mr. Totsky close behind her. “Ms. Watts, I’m pleased to see you. I’ve left you messages, but haven’t heard back from you.”
I gripped my coffee cup in one hand and forced my brightest smile, which was physically painful. “Yes, I received your messages, and your offer.”
“Well, that’s good to know.” Her smile looked just as forced as mine, and I wondered if she was gritting her teeth like I was. “We decided to drop by your darling inn, because we hadn’t heard back from you on the offer, which, as you’ll recall, was full price.”
“Thank you, but we’re not accepting it,” I said, without the slightest hint of emotion in my voice. With my gaze on hers, I took a long slow sip of my drink.
Tiny lines appeared on either side of her mouth. “Is there another offer? If that’s the case, we’re certainly willing to surpass it. We just love this beautiful inn. It has a special place in our hearts.”
My stomach clenched, and my smile wavered. “Right.”
She looked nonplussed. “I’m sorry?”
“Me, too.” I knew she wasn’t saying what I pretended to have heard, but it was worth a shot. Maybe they would just walk away now, and spare us all a scene. I knew that I shouldn’t mix business with my personal feelings, but in the case of my grandma’s inn, the two were forever intertwined, and my patience had quickly deteriorated.
“I think perhaps you should reconsider.” Mrs. Totsky’s voice took on a shrill tone, and her smile mirrored a shark’s grin. So much for them walking away without making a scene. “We can go a lot higher, and we will. We truly want this inn. Name your price.”
“I’m not willing to reconsider, Mrs. Totsky.” I tipped the cappuccino to my lips, and stole a peek at Max. He leaned against the wall, and crossed one foot over the other, a proud smile on his full lips.
Mrs. Totsky’s face paled. “This is ludicrous. We agreed to your price, so we have a contract.”
“I’m sorry you think so, but I didn’t accept your offer. I have the right to field offers, and to reject them as I see fit. I’ve seen fit to reject yours. Neither of you will be able to purchase this inn, not for any amount of money and that is my final say.”
Her cheeks turned pink, and her brightly painted lips pursed. “You’re being incredibly obstinate!”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “That’s better than being unscrupulous. We know your true plans were to tear the inn down, and build a new hotel here.”
Everyone was quiet. The old timer stood at the front desk, his head wobbling back and forth like he was watching a tennis match. Brian leaned across the podium, and Max stood where he had been, that smile growing wider with every single second.
Mrs. Totsky choked out, “That is not true.”
“Unfortunately, it is.” I advanced toward them, and she took a step back. “I saw your hotel plans, since you attached them to your offer. Let me know if this rings any bells. Your intentions were to build a concrete monstrosity, with too many windows on one side and not enough on the other. The place had no charm, no quirks, and no heart. I won’t allow you to do such a thing on my ancestral property. Period.”
Mrs. Totsky turned to her husband, whose face had gone white. “What did you do? You sent her the plans? Have you lost your mind?” she barked, then turned to me, her expression reeking of desperation. She held her hands out in a pleading gesture. “We can’t lose this deal. There must be some price you’ll take.”
I shook my head. “Your offer was rejected. Accept it, Mrs. Totsky. There is absolutely nothing you can do or say that would make me change my mind. In fact, we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, and I am refusing you right here and now. It’s time for you to leave.”
Mrs. Totsky huffed, tightened her purse on her shoulder, then stormed out. Her husband trailed on her heels, and I had the feeling he was going to be in deep trouble.
Brian smiled at me from behind the desk. “Nice going, sis.”
The man behind the counter fiddled with his room keys. “I’m happy to hear nothing will happen to this inn. If it were up to me, it would be made into a historic landmark.”
“That’s what I keep saying.” I smiled at the man, who nodded before going down the hall with his luggage. Max came up beside me, put his arm around my waist, and I leaned into him.
Laughter floated in from the back porch. Moments later, Mom and Dad came walking through the door. She held a bouquet of flowers she had picked somewhere. She’d also twined some of the colorful blooms into her hair, and Dad was laughing. They were holding hands, still in love after all of these years. They had met right out there on that very same beach where I had met Max. Maybe they’d even kissed under a blue moon.
A lump hit my throat. Everything I cared about was here, and I’d been blind not to see it before. Max was here. Brian was here. My friends, and Mom and Dad were here—and this time they promised to stay. Even the silly old Pumpkin Festival was here. But all of the love originated with Grandma’s inn.
We’d gotten rid of the Totskys, but we had no way of knowing what the new owners planned to do with the inn. I closed my eyes, sending thoughts to the universe, begging that my home wouldn’t be torn down, and that the inn would live on forever.
Chapter Sixteen
It had been a week since we’d turned down the liars’ offer, and accepted the new one. Escrow was moving along as planned, and the buyer’s lawyer was professional, but discreet, despite my incessant inquiries of his client’s plans with the inn.
To keep my looming fear that the buyer might be developer at bay, I tried to keep busy. Max rented a sailboat, and we went out for long sails on smooth waters. His kisses were a warm escape, and we were growing closer every single day.
I’d found my grandma’s big hat in her closet, still in the box. I wore it for a walk on the beach, and instead of feeling pain this time, it made me feel as if she were still with me.
Mom and Dad had fallen back in love with Blue Moon Bay, so Brian and I spent a lot of time with them just exploring the town and its surroundings. Mom was good to have around, because she could cook like nobody’s business. It felt like we were finally a family—the family we were supposed to have been this entire time.
I slept in again, as per my new routine, and I even stayed in bed listening to the sound of the waves. Then I walked down to the lobby, and began making a cappuccino. Brian wasn’t at the front desk and I frowned, wondering where he was. I finished steaming the milk with the little wand, then headed into the dining room, but nobody was there either.
What was going on? Mom and Dad were usually having their breakfast right now, but the table was completely bare. It didn’t look like anyone had been in there at all this morning. Maybe they had gone out for breakfast? Brian was addicted to those pancakes down at the diner, and Mom and Dad liked them, too.
Since I’d slept in again, maybe they had gone on without me. I shook my head and went back into the lobby. That was when I noticed Max wasn’t around either, and neither was Lucky. Usually, at this time of day, the two of them were romping along the beach, working out the energy she always had after a good long sleep.
But they weren’t out there. Nobody was around. Where was everyone?
I walked to the back porch and peeked out. Several guests sat in the Adirondack chairs, but no Max. Huh
. Had he gone to the diner with my family? He spent a lot of time with them, so it was possible. Weird that he hadn’t left me a note or a text.
My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. Maybe it was Max. I glanced at the screen, which illuminated Janine’s name. With a frown, I answered her call. “Hi, Janine.”
“Wendy, I hate to tell you this, but someone bought your townhouse,” she said.
I paused for a second, waiting for the pang of regret. But it never came. The house of my dreams was gone, but it was okay. My dreams had changed and that townhouse was not part of the new one. I’d be staying in Blue Moon Bay.
“Oh, well, someone is very lucky. It’s a great place.” I walked to the table and looked down at the guest book, checking to see if anyone had checked in that morning.
“That really should have been your house, but there is another one that came up down the street that is similar if you’re interested. Maybe all is not lost?”
I had to smile. “No, all is not lost.”
Janine sounded relieved. “Does that mean you’re coming back?”
I ran a finger down the guest book’s carefully kept pages. “No, I’m not.”
Janine sounded horrified now. “But what about your career? You were such a great Realtor. Your face is on billboards all over the city. You’re my idol. What will I do without you?”
“There is more to life than work, Janine. It’s important, but it’s not my priority anymore.” I was planning to give up my business in Sacramento, and move back here to be close to my family, and Max. I hung up, my mind going back to the question of where everyone had disappeared to this morning.
I walked to Max’s room and raised my hand to knock, but my hand stalled midair as I heard his voice coming through the phone.