Then they got in their cars and drove their separate ways. Victor headed for the beach and to his lovely new home, and Janie headed back to the same sixties housing development that she’d grown up in, just a few blocks from Caroline. It was ironic—both Caroline and her living in their childhood homes at this stage of life. At least Janie had control over the state of her home, whereas poor Caroline was stuck.
As soon as she got in the house, Janie called Caroline. “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.
“No, that’s okay,” Caroline answered in a tired voice. “I’d gotten Mom cleaned up after another accident only to realize she was out of her adult diapers. And that was after social services told me I couldn’t leave Mom unattended.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Caroline. If I’d been on dry land, I would’ve gladly run and got them.” Janie considered this—maybe it wouldn’t have been too gladly. She had never even been that comfortable purchasing her own feminine hygiene products and had eventually got into the habit of ordering them online. Going into a local store for adult diapers? Well, that would’ve been a sacrifice of love. “Hey, why don’t you order them online?” she said.
“Online?” Caroline questioned. “You can do that?”
“Absolutely.” So Janie explained online drugstores and told Caroline which was her favorite one and how she might even find coupons and such.
“Wow, that’s a great idea.”
“You can even get groceries online,” Janie continued. “I think you can get almost anything online.”
“Yes, according to my spam, you can get the perfect man online too.” Caroline laughed. “But I guess you don’t need that.”
Janie thought she heard a trace of jealousy in that last comment. Although it didn’t really make sense. “I thought you found a pretty good guy yourself,” Janie said cautiously. “Aren’t you and Mitch still together?”
Caroline made a loud sigh. “Yes. I suppose we are. But Mitch was right. A long-distance relationship is hard. Especially for me. I’m at a place in life where I could use a good man close by.” She laughed. “And I don’t mean in a sexual way.”
“What do you mean then?”
“For friendship … companionship … a shoulder to cry on. Especially today.” Caroline sounded like she was crying.
“Oh, Caroline,” Janie said quickly. “Do you want me to come over and keep you company for a while?”
“You—you would do that?”
“Sure. You know I’m just blocks away.”
“Well, yeah, sure. That would be nice. It’s been a rough day. And it’s kind of lonely. Yeah, if you wanted to come by, that would be great.”
Janie looked around her unfinished kitchen, wondering what she might be able to take to cheer up Caroline. She remembered the time Caroline had brought a piña colada when Janie was feeling low. But other than a bottle of champagne that Abby had put into a welcome-back basket, Janie’s wet bar was dry. She opened her freezer and spied an unopened carton of mocha-almond-fudge ice cream. After grabbing it, she was on her way.
It was such a balmy evening that Janie decided to walk the few blocks. Although it was dark, Janie felt completely safe and was reminded of when she walked to Caroline’s as a kid. Not that she’d spent so much time at Caroline’s house, because, thanks to a cantankerous father, Caroline usually wanted to get away from there herself. In fact, right from the start, that had been one of the commonalities between the two girls. Neither of them ever felt comfortable in her own home. Although Janie’s father wasn’t as mean as Caroline’s, he was cold and unbending. It was his way or the highway, and as soon as Janie was old enough to leave home, she had. In grade school, though, she escaped to her friends’ houses. She couldn’t even imagine how many times she must’ve walked over to meet Caroline before together walking over to Abby’s or Marley’s. Both of those friends had the kind of home where all four girls felt welcome and comfortable, where hanging out was encouraged, and where it seemed that voices were only raised in laughter.
Abby’s house had been in what was now called the historic neighborhood. It was a big old Victorian with a basement, where the four girls could do pretty much as they pleased for hours on end. Plus, there was always something good to eat there because Abby’s mom loved to cook. And Marley’s house was a very cool modern design up on the bluff overlooking the bay, a house that even now Janie wouldn’t mind owning. Marley’s parents, although older like Janie’s, were laid-back and cool. They always had jazz or blues playing on the stereo, with martinis in real martini glasses, and Marley’s mom was usually working on something creative like macramé or pottery or beads or candles—whatever the latest craft craze was. It was no wonder Marley became an artist.
What times the Four Lindas had enjoyed during their preadolescent years! But then they entered their teens and began to drift apart. By ninth grade, Caroline started turning into a beauty and went the cheerleading-popularity route. She dragged Abby along with her because, of the Lindas, Abby had the most “potential.” Meanwhile, Marley turned up her nose at traditions like pep rallies and school dances and, acquiring some new artsy friends, started dressing like a real hippie. Janie, it seemed, was left behind. She gradually withdrew into herself and her studies and—thanks to braces, flat breasts, and bad skin—soon became the misfit of the Four Lindas. She was simply labeled by others as “that geeky nerd girl.” Janie couldn’t remember the first time she heard the song “At Seventeen”—maybe even after high school—but she was positive Janis Ian had written it for her.
Years had passed, people had changed, and forty years later, here was Janie, trekking over to Caroline’s once again. Only on this warm summer evening, Janie wasn’t packing a sleeping bag so they could head on over to Marley’s or Abby’s and escape their own dysfunctional families. This time, Janie was packing a carton of decadent ice cream and some heartfelt encouragement. And really, had so much changed over the years?
Chapter 7
Abby
Abby wasn’t sure what made her feel most lonely tonight. Was it the sound of the sea? Or living in this recently built house that was slightly isolated from neighbors? Or the fact that it was after nine and Paul was still not home from his chamber of commerce meeting? Or maybe she was simply hormonal—it was certainly an excuse she’d been using for the past couple of years. But someday she would be past the perimenopausal stage. And what would she use for an excuse then? Mental instability? Perhaps the early onset of Alzheimer’s? She thought of Ruby McCann and shuddered. No, definitely not that.
As Abby paced in the kitchen, she thought about the article she’d just read and what Caroline had told her about getting a new doctor. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Abby was chemically, not mentally, imbalanced. And the sooner she figured it out, the better things would be. For Abby and Paul both. She looked at the clock. Why was he so late? Chamber meetings, unless they were planning some big event, usually ended by eight.
Abby picked up the phone. Jackie Day, an old school friend who ran a bed-and-breakfast in town, usually went to the chamber meetings. Maybe Abby could extract some information from Jackie about Paul’s whereabouts. Sneaky, perhaps, but Abby was tired and wanted to go to bed without worrying that Paul was involved in a bad car wreck or up to no good.
“Hi, Jackie,” Abby said cheerfully. “Sorry to call so late.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I was just getting some things set up for breakfast. What’s up?”
“Well …” Abby didn’t really like to lie, but she also didn’t like to be obviously checking up on her husband either. “I was thinking about your bed-and-breakfast, and I wanted to ask you some questions.”
“Questions?” Now Jackie sounded slightly suspicious. “Do you think I’m doing something wrong over here?”
“No, nothing like that, Jackie. Now, don’t get worried,
but I’ve been considering starting a bed-and-breakfast myself. I’m sure I’ve mentioned that to you before.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. Really, are you getting serious about it now?”
“Maybe. I’m curious as to how much work it really is. For instance, here it is after nine and you’re still working at it, and that has me concerned.”
“Oh, I’m only working at it because I was at a chamber meeting tonight. Normally, I’d have things set up long before now.”
“Oh, right, the chamber meeting. Paul had that too. I forgot. It must’ve run late tonight.”
“Well, we started talking about First Saturday Art Walk, and I suppose that dragged it out a bit.”
“Marley told me about that. It seems like a good idea.”
“So, back to B and Bs. What do you want to know?”
Abby thought hard. “Well, do you think our town has room for another one? I wouldn’t want to encroach on your business.”
Jackie laughed. “Oh, I’m not too worried. A lot of my guests are regulars. I think they’d be loyal. But you know, I’ve dreamed about having someone setting up another B and B—and the possibility of running them together.”
“Together?”
“You know, we could share advertising and booking, and if one of us had to close for some reason, perhaps the other one could pick up the slack so we wouldn’t lose business.”
“That’s a good idea, Jackie. Kind of like a co-op.”
“Exactly.”
Abby was no longer pretending. “You know, I’ve always regretted selling our old Victorian house in town and—”
“I heard it’s going back on the market.”
“Are you kidding?”
“No. Don’t say you heard it from me, but Marsha at the bank told me that it’s probably going to be a short sale. I guess the owners got in over their heads financially.”
“Really?” Abby’s heart began to beat a little faster.
“That’s what I heard.”
“Don’t you think that would make a great bed-and-breakfast?”
“Of course. And I like that it wouldn’t be in direct competition with me in regard to location.”
“Well, no one can beat your waterfront location near the wharf, Jackie. It’s really just about perfect.”
“But your location is perfect for walking to the park or the library or town.”
“Believe me, I know it. I still wake up some mornings and think that I’ll get up and walk to the post office and mail something.”
Jackie laughed. “Well, it would be a long walk, but you could probably do it.”
“Not if I had to walk back.”
“So are you going to look into it?”
“Walking to town?”
“No. Buying the old Victorian again.”
Abby thought hard. “Well, I just don’t know for sure. But I might give it some thought.”
“Keep what I said in mind—about the possibility of partnering.”
“I will.” Abby’s mind was already running ahead, wondering how she could do something like this and what Paul might say. “But please, Jackie, don’t mention our conversation with anyone, okay?”
“Mum’s the word. You can count on it, Abby. Partly out of selfishness, because I’d rather have you buy that house for a B and B than anyone else. I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed and sending up some prayers.”
“Thanks, Jackie! I appreciate it.” Abby hung up, and instead of obsessing over Paul’s lateness, she got out a notepad and a calculator and started to do some quick mathematical figuring. Math had never been her forte, but she did know how to balance a checkbook. How much different could this be?
She could only guess on the price of the house, but if it was a short sale, it would probably be reasonable and hopefully below market value, so she listed it at just a bit less than what they’d sold it for back before the real estate market took a dive. She knew how much she had in her savings, which might barely make a 10 percent down payment, but then she would have nothing left to run the business with, and she knew it would take cash to get the place set up.
She wondered if her mom might want to get involved, then penned in a number that she thought her mom might be comfortable investing, just to get Abby started. Actually, that seemed reasonable, considering how her mom was always telling her to get a hobby or interest to take her mind off herself and her troubles. Then she estimated what the monthly payments and expenses would be, countering that with what she could make if all six bedrooms were rented most of the time. Suddenly she was amazed. She had no idea that a B and B could make so much money. She’d be rich in no time!
“Sorry to be so late,” Paul said from behind her, making her jump and drop her pen.
“Oh!” She took off her reading glasses and looked up. “You scared me. I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“Sorry.” He leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. “Just wanted to say good night before I head for bed. I’m beat.”
“Good night.” She picked up her pen and looked back down at the notepad.
“Doing your homework?” He leaned over to see.
She covered it with her hand and smiled coyly. “No, just doing some figuring.”
“Figuring?”
“Just dreaming about something … doing the math to see if it could even work.”
“Does it work?”
“Oh, yeah.” She nodded happily.
“So what is it you’re dreaming about? A vacation in Europe perhaps?”
“Maybe something that could lead to a European vacation. Now that Nicole seems determined to stay there, I might want to go visit her sometime. To do that, I’ll need some cash.”
Phil pulled out a stool and sat down at the breakfast bar with her. “What exactly are you planning here? Not some crazy get-rich scheme.”
“No. If you must know, I was thinking about starting my own business.”
He frowned. “Your own business?”
She nodded firmly. “Yes. And according to my calculations it could be quite a lucrative one too.”
Now he looked both skeptical and curious. “Tell me about it.”
“Thought you were tired … wanted to go to bed.”
“Suddenly I find myself wide awake.” He smiled, but it looked a bit stiff around the edges.
“We can talk about it in the morning.”
“I’m playing golf in the morning.”
“Golf on a Wednesday?”
“Shore Links is offering a cheap midweek rate. It was just announced at the chamber meeting tonight. Some of us promised to give it a try at seven tomorrow.”
“Oh. Maybe you should get to bed if you have an early morning.”
“Not until you tell me exactly what kind of business venture I’m going to get stuck with.”
“You?” She peered at him. “Who said you would be part of it, Paul? This is going to be my business.”
He laughed. “Right. You’re going to run a business on your own, Abby? With no help from me? You honestly expect me to believe that?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, I do.”
“And what are you going to use to finance this little business venture?”
“My savings.” She held her chin up and wished he’d quit using the word venture as if her dream was some kind of a recreational idea and not a legitimate business.
He scowled, then stood and went to the fridge to get a bottle of water. He took a long slow swig. Paul had never liked that Abby kept her own savings account. But it was something Abby’s mother had encouraged her to do and even helped her get started when finances were tight. Her mom called it Abby’s “just-in-case account,” confessing that Abby’s father had briefly stepped out on their marriage when Ab
by was a teenager.
“It’s your insurance policy,” Mom had explained. “The idea is to have it and never need it, which is better than not having it and needing it.”
Over the course of more than thirty years, Abby’s just-in-case account had grown considerably, although most of the time Abby never really thought about it.
“So what kind of business venture are you planning to embark upon?” He set the water bottle on the countertop with a thud. “If I may ask.”
“Well, since you probably won’t leave me alone until I tell you, it’s a bed-and-breakfast.”
He let out a groan. “Oh, not again.”
“I was talking to Jackie Day about it and—”
“And I’m sure Jackie Day is just over the moon about you starting up some competition for—”
“As a matter of fact, Jackie is supportive. She would like to have another B and B in town, sort of as a co-op. We could share advertising and business and—”
“And did Jackie tell you that running a B and B is a full-time, seven-days-a-week, three-hundred-and-sixty-five-days-a-year job? Or that you’d have to live on the premises?”
“There might be more than one—”
“And where, if I may ask, do you plan to operate this B and B?” He looked around the kitchen. “Certainly not here, since we have only two spare bedrooms.”
“I’m going to buy our old house.”
Now Paul laughed. “Sure. You’re going to go up and knock on the front door and ask the owners to sell it back to you, right?”
“I have it from a good source that it’ll be for sale soon.”
Paul looked surprised. “Well, even if that’s true, how would you possibly afford it? I don’t know for sure, but I doubt there’s that much in your savings account.”
“I will use my savings as a down payment and get a loan.”
“A loan?” Paul was pacing in the kitchen now. “And what will you secure your loan with? What kind of collateral?”
She considered this. “I’m not sure. I figured the bed-and-breakfast would secure it. Maybe I’ll get a business loan.”
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