by Jen Peters
When she got home, the house was dark but the greenhouse in back seemed lit for a celebration. Of course that’s where her mother was, Ree thought wryly. No matter how limited she was after her hand surgery, she couldn’t stay away from her flowers.
Her footsteps crunched on the gravel path, and she pushed the door open. Warm, humid air enveloped her, and she blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light. “Mom?” she called. “You in here somewhere?”
Faint clangs of metal came from the other end of the building. Then finally, “Back here.”
Ree made her way down the aisle, edelweiss on one side and the strange batwing flowers on the other. Sometimes they creeped her out with their huge dark shapes, sometimes she thought they were fascinating. Her mother, plus a good number of customers, loved them.
“I finished the orders for tomorrow,” Ree reported. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” her mother snapped, leaning against a potting table with her arms crossed. “I don’t need checking up on.”
Ree looked at the crumbs of dirt across the table and on the floor. Newly transplanted seedlings sat under the growlight. “Mom! You know you’re not supposed to be doing that!" Ree maneuvered around her mother to see the trowel and bag of potting soil. “You need to be doing your physical therapy exercises, not using hand tools that the doctor specifically told you to stay away from.”
Her mother hmmphed and re-crossed her arms. “You may have gone to college, but that doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do.”
Ree snorted. “If you haven’t noticed, I can’t finish college until your hand is better, so I have a definite interest in you following doctor’s orders.”
She could almost see her mother’s mental eye roll. “Look, I didn’t come out to bug you, but I have an online paper due at noon tomorrow. I’ll be working on it tonight and tomorrow morning, and you’ll need to cover the shop.”
“You don’t need to worry about it." Her mother glared. She flexed her bad hand and rubbed the palm. “It’s my own store, remember.”
“I remember,” Ree huffed. “You’re just not spending much time there lately.” She took a deep breath—arguing wasn’t going to change anything. “I’ll get something on for dinner and then I’ll be in my room.”
It might be her mother’s store, but Ree was the one taking care of things during her mother’s recovery. The only way she kept her sanity was by taking a couple online classes, and if her mother wasn’t back to full use soon, Ree would miss her last internship.
How long until she could get on with her own life?
Chapter 3
Mitch wasn’t thrilled with cemeteries. He’d been both sad and scared at his grandmother’s funeral when he was twelve, and while he’d attended a few since then, these weren’t places he felt comfortable.
He helped his grandfather across the grass to an older section up against the trees. The old man stood for a moment, clasping the vase.
“She was a formidable woman, my grandmother,” Granddad said. “She held the family together during the depression, stalwart through the loss of everything the McCormicks had. You know she was born to one of the miners? He was a tough old coot, started out…”
Mitch’s mind wandered. There wasn’t much to connect Granddad’s old stories to Mitch’s problems of the present. He was passing too much work onto his paralegal, no matter how reliable Mike Cheung was. He had to get his head back in the game somehow. Perhaps when the inn was up and running, he’d be able to focus on his work better. Recapture his old feelings for it.
Granddad stumbled, jerking Mitch out of his thoughts. Mitch caught his arm and pulled him close, but the vase of flowers tumbled to the ground.
“That’s all right, Granddad, I’ll get it." When Mitch was sure the old man would stay somewhat steady, he set the vase by the headstone and got the flowers looking decent again. “It needs more water.”
“Leave it,” Granddad said. “Just let me rest a bit.”
Mitch helped him over to a cement bench under a maple tree. Ten minutes passed, the breeze rustling through the leaves overhead. Ten minutes of worrying, watching the old man breathe, clasping his hand while it shook slightly.
Finally Granddad opened his eyes and pulled his hand away. “I’m fine. Let’s go see how the mansion is coming along.”
“You sure you’re ready?”
“‘Course I’m ready. Why wouldn’t I be ready?”
“Shall we get some water for the flowers?”
“Hmmph. Why? They’re going to die anyway.”
Yup, his grandfather was back to his old self, feisty and opinionated as ever.
They walked slowly back to the Porsche and Mitch helped his grandfather ease in. “Go back out to the main street and just keep going,” Granddad said, settling his cane between his legs.
“I know, I’ve been checking in on the renovations, remember?" Not to mention that he was the one who had researched the place almost a year ago and bought it at his grandfather’s request. He’d been puzzled at why Granddad wanted to go back to something more than a hundred years old, but when you worked for the McCormick law firm, you did whatever the eldest McCormick wanted.
What would happen when Granddad passed away? Mitch shuddered. He hoped it would be a long way off, but there wasn’t anyone in the generation between Granddad and him—Mitch’s parents were environmental activists traveling the world, and his mom’s brother had died of cancer a few years before. Mitch didn’t know if he had it in him to run the firm, at least not yet. If he couldn’t be the forceful attorney his grandfather expected, there was no way he could take over the whole thing. But Granddad would stick awhile longer, God willing.
They rounded a corner, and Mitch slowed the Porsche almost to a crawl as they approached the Queen Anne mansion. His grandfather caught his breath at the sight.
A few months before, the grand old house had been covered in faded, peeling paint, with broken stairs and at least one boarded-up window. Now it was a brilliant sky blue, startling in its color but somehow fitting in its rebirth. The repairs had been going well inside and out, and workers were painting the gingerbread trim as they arrived.
He pulled into the driveway and turned the engine off, gazing at the porches and turrets—all the elegance and excess of the Victorian age. It would be a wonderful Bed & Breakfast if they could manage to get customers to come all the way up here. And if not…well, indulging his grandfather was something he was happy to do. The patriarch certainly had enough money to spend what he wanted restoring his family home.
“Would you like to get out and look?”
His grandfather gave him a withering glance that made him wonder why he had asked. He went around the car and helped the old man to his feet, then across the driveway and up the stairs.
“We used to play under this porch on hot days,” Granddad reminisced. “We thought it was our own secret hiding place until we realized that the older cousins had always known about it and were only letting us win.” He smiled as he looked around approvingly.
Mitch swung open the wide front door, and his grandfather gasped. The foyer welcomed them with gleaming wood and a grand curving staircase. An upholstered bench invited tired visitors to sit, and the magnificent chandelier threw arcs of light from its crystal teardrops, scattering tiny rainbows around the room.
“I knew you could work wonders, boy, but I didn’t realize you could make it look better than my memories.”
Mitch shrugged. It was Justin Cooper and Cat Billings who had done the work—all he had done was provide a bit of direction and the money. But yes, it was gorgeous, even if there were some finishing touches still to be done.
They walked around the welcome hall and the parlor, Granddad waxing nostalgic about childhood Christmases and people long gone. Mitch showed him the dining room and new kitchen and he nodded in approval.
“Upstairs?” Mitch asked.
“Oh no, this is about all I can do." He sat on the bench and just
looked, then closed his eyes for a bit. Mitch wondered if the whole trip hadn’t been too much.
Granddad’s eyes popped open, and he levered himself up. “Let’s go,” he said, walking resolutely to the door, his cane keeping time on the polished parquet floor.
Mitch followed him. Back to the grind.
Chapter 4
Ree snuggled into her pillow late Sunday morning, glad the florist shop was closed but still procrastinating her event planning project.
You busy? came a text from her best friend, Robin. come over!
By the time Ree knocked at the Cooper house, no one answered the door. Laughter came from around back, though, so she let herself through the side fence. One of Robin’s stray dogs jumped up to greet her, followed quickly by Robin herself.
“Dutch, get down!” Robin scolded the mutt. “Hey, Ree, how’s it going?”
Ree accepted a Coke and followed her deeper into the large backyard. “Okay. It’s frustrating but…” her voice trailed off as she looked around. “I didn’t realize you had the whole gang over.” It seemed a large gathering, with Robin’s brother Justin, his girlfriend Cat, some younger cousins playing frisbee, and a bunch of aunts and uncles.
“It grew, but it’s just family. C’mon. You have to meet someone.”
Ree raised her eyes. “A boyfriend? You’ve been holding back on me.”
Robin glared at her. “Of course not—a new dog that got dumped out here. Checkers, here boy!”
A blotchy-colored dog the size of a small mountain came bounding over. Ree took a step back before he could knock her over.
Robin hunkered down and gave the monster a hug. “Isn’t he sweet? I’ll never understand how people can just shove their pets out of the car in the middle of nowhere and drive off.”
Ree looked at her best friend and shook her head. They had known each other as infants, had walked into kindergarten enchanted with their names both starting with R. They had practically lived at each other’s houses and somehow survived middle school awkwardness. When Lorraine moved in, she dropped her name to Raine and they became The Three Rs, muddling through high school social life together. At least until the whole senior year mess.
In all that time, while many of Ree’s own weekends had been filled with dates and sometimes steady boyfriends, Robin had been quiet and introverted around anyone but her family, never quite connecting with the guys she had crushes on. And then the bullying hit, Raine betrayed her, and she pulled even more into herself.
Robin was better now, mostly, but what she needed more than anything—at least in Ree’s fix-everything opinion—was a boyfriend instead of a pack of dogs.
Ree took a sip of Diet Coke and reached tentatively for Monster Dog’s fur. It was softer than it looked and he didn’t even try to eat her. He was too busy licking Robin’s face. “You really need some human kisses instead,” she told her friend.
Robin raised her eyebrows. “You’re one to talk. You haven’t had a date since you came back.”
Ree grimaced. “I’m on a sabbatical from men until I can find one I can trust.”
“Somebody the opposite of Luc, you mean?”
Ree coughed, almost choking. The thought of trusting Luc seemed ridiculous now. He had seemed perfect, the ultimate romantic, but he hadn’t a clue about love after all—she’d caught him in bed with her roommate, and he had just lain there, blowing nasty cigarette smoke at her and shrugging a shoulder. Like she was the one who didn’t understand, like she was naive to have expected anything else. “Opposite in every way possible, please."
Somewhere, somehow, there might be a guy who believed in love the way she did.
Ree looked over to see Justin whack a watermelon with a giant knife, his muscles flexing under a snug t-shirt. Cat, the blonde co-contractor who was now his fiancée, laughed and leapt back to miss the juicy splatter.
“Still carrying a torch for my brother?” Robin whispered.
“What? No! Whatever gave you that idea?”
“In high school, you used to watch every move he made, even when you already had a boyfriend. I had eyes, you know.”
Ree blushed. “Ugh. I was so stupid and awkward then. He was so much older and he was your brother, but I couldn’t help it. And he’s even better looking now.”
“He’s taken, you know.”
“Of course I know! Sheesh, give me a little credit. It’s just … I’ve been back here in town for two months now, and there aren’t any guys I don’t already know.” Although the out-of-town guy who had come into the shop yesterday had been pretty hot, all intense, gray-green eyes and a strong jaw, with a fit body under those business casual clothes. She’d be happy dreaming about him for nights on end, but she’d never see him again, so what was the point?
“So you have been looking,” Robin teased. “So much for your sabbatical.”
“Yeah, well, looking can be fun,” Ree grinned. “But getting involved with someone? Totally different story." He would have to be pretty spectacular. She couldn’t open herself up just to have her heart broken again. Luc had done a good job of disillusioning her.
Ree eventually made her way over to the patio where a vast lunch had been spread. She picked up a wedge of watermelon, carefully bending over to eat so it didn’t drip on her clothes. “Hey, Justin, it still looks like you use a chainsaw on melons.”
Justin chuckled. “And your sense of humor hasn’t changed much, either. Come meet Cat."
Ree knew the two had met when they worked together remodeling the mansion, and Robin said they were talking about setting a wedding date. Justin made introductions, and Ree found herself asking about the mansion-turned-inn.
The more Cat explained, the more Ree’s idea grew.
The restored mansion would be a bed-and-breakfast. Would they use a live-in manager/cook or would they hire specialists? With the number of rooms, plus the elegance and the guests’ expectations, hiring staff made sense. And they’d need a manager … a manager like her.
“So what’s going to happen when the reconstruction is done?” Ree asked, trying to quiet her tumbling thoughts. “Are you decorating it too?”
“Definitely not me!” Cat said. “Mr. Blake and the interior decorator are making all sorts of plans for the finishing touches, and she’ll start moving stuff in as soon as the painting is done. After that, I don’t know.”
A decorator. Having one specialist might be a sign there would be more. “When is it due to open?”
Justin tilted his head. “End of August, I think. Why?”
Ree shrugged. “Just some things running through my mind. Has Mr. Blake talked about hiring a manager or other staff? Or will he be managing it?”
“I don’t know,” Justin said. “He works in Portland, though, only comes down when he needs to.”
Robin gave Ree a long look. “Do I see wheels turning in your brain, Miss Swanson?”
“Just an idea.” Ree tilted her head and paused. “I only need three more classes and then I’ll have my Hospitality and Tourism degree, except for another internship I’m supposed to take. I thought I’d be taking them back at U of O. But Mom…” She grimaced at the thought of how much her mother was doing that she wasn’t supposed to. “Her hand is healing slower than we expected, and I might need to stick around for a bit.” Her voice trailed off, and she looked off to the horizon. She would not tear up now.
Robin laid a hand on her arm. “You’ll get there. It might take a little longer, but you’ll finish, I know you will.”
Ree kept her voice steady. “I don’t want to be stuck here forever, Robin. I can’t be stuck here forever. I don’t know if any of my other classes will be available online, but maybe managing the mansion might count for my internship.”
She sighed and finally looked back at them, only to catch Cat and Justin exchanging glances. “What?” she asked.
“You haven’t managed anything before, especially not a start-up,” Justin said.
Ree huffed. “You two hadn’t ta
ken on a job like this before, either.”
Justin frowned. “No, we hadn’t. But we’d done similar work, even if not as big. Mr. Blake seems to prefer people who have proven they can do the job.”
Ree crossed her arms. “Don’t you think I’m capable? I’m not fifteen anymore.”
“We’re not the ones you have to convince.”
Chapter 5
Mitch sat behind his gleaming mahogany desk, the office air a perfect 72 degrees, the Portland skyline outside his window, and a low murmur coming from outside his closed door. He had plenty to do—fact finding for another new client, writing a final proposal for the one last week—but McCormick’s Creek had his attention. Which was strange. He’d never felt a particular need to be over-involved while the renovations were happening. Now it had somehow become difficult to keep his mind on mergers and acquisitions instead of his grandfather’s project.
The real problem was that with each project, his sense of accomplishment dropped another notch. He couldn’t wait to close the file on this latest takeover bid, even for a few hours. He’d finish the case next week, and one more small business would be consumed by one more faceless corporate giant. One more set of loyal staff would likely be out of work. It had happened like that more times than he wanted to count.
Mitch had loved the excitement and the cut-throat competition the first few years after law school, but something had changed in the last few months. He couldn’t pinpoint if he’d lost the thrill of the chase or just saw the end results of his work more than before, but he was glad for any chance to get away.