by Andrea Hurst
Mary mixed and cooled and packed several batches, then washed all of the pots and pans. Lily wondered how she could ever do all this without her. Lily hoped her grandmother’s trust was paying Mary well for the upkeep.
Mary dried her hands and approached Lily.
“Hate to remind you, but there’s still a dang leak under the kitchen sink. Looks like it might be getting worse.”
“I’ll deal with it, tomorrow, promise,” Lily said.
Mary zipped up her coat. “Don’t wait too long. I’m sure my Aunt Betty would be happy to come over and fix it right up for you.”
“Great idea, thanks.” Lily waved goodbye and Mary walked out the back path past the pond to her home up the hill.
✦✦✦✦
“You’ve been looking out that window all morning, son. If it hasn’t appeared by now, it’s probably not going to.”
Ian turned away from the window and took a seat at the kitchen table. “You’re probably right, Gramps. Any coffee left?”
John poured them both a cup and joined Ian at the table.
“I just can’t lose her, not now that I finally found her.”
John patted Ian on the back. “The course of true love is not always smooth.”
“Right,” he said, breaking a smile. “And I suppose you know just what I should do now that she’s pulled away?”
John sipped his coffee. “You know what to do. It may not be your strongest quality, but patience is what’s called for.”
“I know, I know. But what if she’s never ready, what if she decides not to stay here, what if…?”
John held a palm out to stop. “Whoa, boy, all those what ifs are going to get you nowhere. If Lily is anything like her grandmother, and I think she is, she’ll find her way.”
There was nothing more he could do. His gramps was right. Worrying was driving him crazy anyway. He needed to work, to start another painting, and he knew just which one it would be.
Ian rose and rinsed his cup out in the sink. “Thanks for the coffee and advice, Gramps. I’m off to the studio.”
“Any time. Try trusting a little. It just might work.”
Ian walked out the back door and looked over to Lily’s place. Smoke rose from her chimney and he could smell the baking aromas from Lily’s house drifting across the field as he walked to his studio in the old barn. His mouth watered. He’d really like to drop in for samples and tried to think of an excuse to do so. But no, he decided, he didn’t want to rush her or push her away. She had not called after he dropped off the flowers this morning, and that was probably a sign she had not changed her mind about taking a break in their relationship.
One thing he did know now, his feelings for Lily were real. Her kindness to his son, his grandfather, her neighbors, and even to Gretel showed her generous heart. He admired her creativity and the inner strength it took for her to leave a bad marriage and be willing to start again. She was an amazing woman, and he could wait as long as it took. The week away in New York for his art opening only confirmed that. He could not stop thinking of her. All the beautiful women in New York, and all he wanted to do was come home to Madrona Island and be with Lily.
Sometimes his impatience got the best of him, but his heart could not take another loss. Gramps’s wisdom prevailed, as always, in his mind. Do whatever it takes to help her feel safe. After that piece of work she had as a husband, Brad, no wonder she was gun shy to get involved with another man. He would never hurt her. For now he would do whatever he could to support her choices and watch her bloom. And keep his hands off, as hard as it was.
Ian took out the sketch and placed it beside his easel with the new canvas on it. He closed his eyes and could see the images, mist, steam, a river, and golden hair across a pillow of clouds.
✦✦✦✦
It was a day well spent baking with Mary, and Lily felt the satisfaction of creating great food that would bring in money and pay many of the few bills. Speaking of bills, she better go pick up the mail from the table where she’d left it.
There was a notification from the county, a large envelope from her attorney, and a colored paper full of ads for this week’s special at the Cascade Market. Butter was on sale; she’d needed to run in and pick some up. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could wait until tomorrow to open the remaining mail. But if she did, she probably would not sleep all night worrying. Sitting down at the dining room table, she ripped open the notice from the county. In large red letters, a statement for property taxes was marked past due. The note said something about a reassessment of the property value. Heart pounding, her eyes raced to the bottom of the page to see the amount: $3,500. It might as well been three million, it was more than she could afford right now.
She rubbed the back of her neck, fighting off the tight shoulders and building headache. “Do I dare open the one from the attorney too?” Tears threatened at the thought of what was waiting inside the envelope. “Might as well get it all over with, tear the bandage off fast.”
She ripped it open and the spilled the contents onto the table. On embossed stationary, Karl had typed her a note. A large packet of forms filled with numbers was attached. Her breath stopped as she read the note.
Lily,
This is to notify you that we have finished the evaluation of all property and assets in regard to your divorce proceedings with Brad Mitchell. I am afraid it is not good news. There is nothing of any real value that would warrant going to court over. In regards to the Brentwood home, the house has a higher mortgage than it is valued at and is facing foreclosure. Most all of the assets, including the automobiles are leased. Due to exorbitant credit card bills, Brad is filing for bankruptcy. If you still would like to retain my services, I will need another $10,000 retainer to continue with these proceedings and quite a bit more if this case goes to court. My suggestion is you consider using a mediator to finish off the final divorce agreement.
Good luck,
Karl Goldberg, Attorney at Law
Ominous blue-black clouds hung in the dark sky out her window. Rain pounded down on her roof and flew into her windows sideways. Fatigue and a chill that penetrated through her bones seemed impossible to shake. She’d lost her appetite for dinner. Every muscle in her body was tight and longed for a luxurious soak and the comfort it would bring. The thought of a hot bath in the deep, claw-foot bathtub in the Honeymoon Suite sounded inviting. The rain had stopped as fast as it started, and from the small bathroom window, she could see the last rays of the sunset turning the sky shades of rose and violet. The night sky crept in from the east, and the dark clouds headed south toward Seattle. Under the sink she found all types of bath powders and potions. She chose the deep green “Total Relaxation” salts, turned on the hot water, and dropped two handfuls of the eucalyptus-scented powder into the water. As a final touch, she squeezed pale orange liquid bubble bath under the old brass faucet.
On the shelf over the tub was a collection of candles, some shaped like shells, some like flowers, and others like pillars. Ceremoniously, she lit each one, lowered the light, and watched the room fill with a rosy glow. Iridescent suds foamed in the tub, lit only by candlelight. The night sky claimed the scene outside. She caught a glimpse out the window of the silver moon rising above the Olympics as she eased her aching body into the hot water. She melted back, eyes closed. Magic, pure magic, she thought.
She remembered when she and Ian had sat in the hot springs together, entangled in each other’s arms. Her heart raced with the memory. A vision of his full lips, parted and warm, increased her longing. Sinking down into the caressing suds, she released her breath and let the herbal water pull the tension from her muscles. She pushed Ian from her mind and let the moment be enough.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It was 7:00 AM. Who the heck was calling this early in the morning? Lily wondered. She hadn’t even finished making coffee yet. The caller ID on the kitchen phone showed Brad’s number. She hesitated. Under their lawyer’s instr
uctions, they were not supposed to speak directly to each other. What did it matter now? After that letter, there was no way she could continue to retain a lawyer. She might as well start dealing with Brad directly.
“Hello,” she answered.
“Lily, this is Brad, please don’t hang up.”
She sighed. “I wasn’t planning to. I received a letter from my lawyer we need to discuss.” She added water and turned on the coffee pot.
“I received the same letter,” he said.
The line got quiet, and Lily wondered if they had lost the connection. Very softly, she heard Brad speak.
“I’m sorry.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She couldn’t remember him ever apologizing, at least not for many years. Feelings surfaced, but she couldn’t distinguish whether they were of pity or just familiarity.
“It’s all my fault, Lily. I ruined everything. I just wanted you to be happy, for us to have a good life. Then everything started falling apart. I thought if I could just mortgage the house, buy more time…”
The aroma of fresh-made coffee filled the room. Lily paced, trying to catch her breath. “You should have told me, Brad.”
“I know, I know,” he said.
“You should have told me a lot of things. Like about the affair…”
Brad’s voice escalated. “That’s over now, done. I was just crazy and made a mistake. You’re the only one I love, Lily, always have been.”
It was all too much, and she couldn’t get any words out for fear she would break down crying. She should probably hang up.
“Lily, let’s drop all this divorce stuff, stop feeding money to the bloodthirsty lawyers.”
“What about mediation?” she said.
“We have over ten years invested in this marriage. We could start again, have a family.”
She shook her head from side to side. Now he brings up a child, the one thing I really wanted and he wouldn’t even consider.
“I have to think about all this. I’ll get back to you.”
“I’ll be waiting, Lily. I love you.”
She almost said love you, too, but caught herself and said goodbye. She felt dizzy and made her way to the rocker in the parlor to sit down. It was early May, and on days like this, she still needed to light a fire. She pulled the knitted throw around her, rocked and stared out the window toward the Sound. If she stopped the divorce, it would be one less thing weighing on her shoulders, one less responsibility. This house, the taxes, the leaking plumbing, no money coming from the divorce, and she still owed the attorney.
If only everything could go back the way it was before, simple, uncomplicated. Was it really? Brad took care of everything, but then she could never make a choice on her own. Could he really change? And Ian, was he just a fantasy, too good to be true? An artist who buried himself in his work and was still in love with the wife he lost? Was she kidding herself that she could make a business work on this small island? The dark, damp thoughts matched the clouds closing in on the house and grounds.
Maybe she would just go back to bed. There were no clients who needed a delivery today. Then she remembered, Betty had offered to come over this morning around eight and take a look at the leak in the kitchen. That was late for Betty; sometimes Lily saw their lights on before six in the morning. She walked back in the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. If the plumbing needed expensive parts, it would have to just go on leaking. She better get dressed before Betty arrived bursting with energy.
At 8:00 AM sharp, Betty knocked on the kitchen door then poked her head in. “Yoo-hoo, you up, girl?”
Lily wandered into the kitchen. “Sure am, thanks for coming by.”
Betty had arrived with a large toolbox and a flashlight. She got down on her knees by the kitchen sink. “Let me get a look under here and see what’s happening.”
Lily held her breath; she did not need any more bad news.
“Looks like you need some new piping, probably a snake down the drain to clean it all out, too. I can get an estimate on the parts and do the labor myself.”
“Thanks, Betty, what a kind offer. But I’m afraid I’m short of cash right now.”
Betty stood and washed her hands in the sink. “No problem, we can loan you the money and get this fixed up. And Mary’s willing to keep working until you can pay her.”
“What are you talking about paying Mary? Doesn’t my grandmother’s estate pay her directly?”
Betty shook her head. “Not for a while now, I’m afraid. She doesn’t mind. None of us do.”
Someone being that nice was the last straw, and Lily started to cry.
Betty looked confused. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, no, of course not. That is so kind of you. I’m just overwhelmed right now. Not been a great few days.”
“It’ll work out, always does,” Betty said, picking up her tools. “Loan’s available if you want it, just let us know.”
Lily took a plastic container of cookies down from the shelf and handed them to her neighbor. “Thanks again.”
Right now, she needed time to think. She could call her mother go over the pros and cons of Brad’s offer. Maybe she wouldn’t. Her mother would go ballistic at the thought of Brad, no matter how many apologies he made. And she’d offer her more money. She’d already done enough to help. A list might help instead, weigh out her options. She was still married to him, was it worth another try?
The Guestbook. She would open it to wherever it led her. Her grandmother would help guide her. She retrieved it from the nightstand and propped up on her bed. The book was beautiful; she could imagine Grandma Maggie holding it in her hands. Lily closed her eyes and opened the book to an entry near the end.
Maggie,
We were so glad to be some of your last guests at the Inn. We were just devastated when were heard you were closing this place. There will never be another quite like it. Here for you if you need us.
Rowena and Mare–Coupeville, WA
Lily closed the book. She had let so many people down. Her grandmother, her mother, her husband, herself. If only she had been here for her grandma, maybe she could have helped her keep Madrona Island Inn open. She could be there for her husband now, help him rebuild, open a business in LA, where the economy was a little better. She turned to the last entry of the Guestbook.
Dear Lily the Innkeeper,
I hope you enjoy this place as much as I have, and that love finds you here as it did me.
Love,
Your Grandma Maggie
She dropped the book on the bed. Her grandmother’s last message to her. An Innkeeper. How could she pull it off with all the issues facing her? How could she not? She did not want to disappoint her grandmother once again. It all came down to what she herself wanted at this moment and what she was willing to do to get it.
She thought about Betty walking the path back home in hiking boots, jeans, a parka, and knit hat. What a sight to see. Eighty years old and she’s offering to fix my kitchen plumbing. The women here on the island were something else. She could learn from them. So were some of the men, come to think of it. Like the nice mechanic who offered to fix her car for the cost of the parts and cookies for the next month.
She should bring some cookies over to Grandpa John and a few extra for Ian and Jason. She’d been kind of a recluse lately, and they could be a peace offering of sorts.
After retrieving a batch from the kitchen, Lily threw on a coat and started across the field. Spring grasses were coming up, and it was getting harder to walk across. John said he’d get his driving mower out soon and take care of it. Jason was sitting on a bench outside, playing a game with a friend. What a sweet kid, she hadn’t seen him in while either.
“Cookies!” he said, jumping to his feet.
Lily waved. “Plenty for all of you.”
She looked over to the door and saw Ian’s sinewy body leaning against the frame. This was going to be harder than she thought. One lo
ok at him and she wanted…she didn’t want to think about what she wanted.
She held up the container. “Brought some cookies for you all.”
Grandpa John joined Ian at the door. “Lily, so good to see you.” He walked down the porch steps and gave her a big hug. “Come on in. Ian, get the milk out.”
John stopped for a moment leaning against the door frame.
“Are you alright?” Lily asked.
“Fine, fine,” he said, “Just a bit dizzy there for a moment.”
The young boys followed behind and gathered at the kitchen table. “What kind are they?” Jason asked.
“I tried some new kinds, I hope you like them. One is chocolate chunk with salted caramel, and the other is my grandma’s Inn Style cookies. You might have had those before.”
“I remember those,” Ian said, his eyes searching hers. “They’re great.”
She held his gaze; there was no anger there, only longing. Could it really be for her?
John and the boys scarfed down the cookies, but Ian hadn’t moved from his place by the stove. Lily picked up a couple Inn Style cookies, placed them on a napkin, and brought them over to Ian.
“Thanks,” he said, taking a bite. “Taste pretty good, you have the touch.” He reached over and took her hand. “I’ve missed you.”
Shoving the last of a cookie in his mouth, Jason rose. “Dad, are we still going fishing today? We’ve been waiting all day.”
“Wanna go?” he asked Lily.
“I can’t. I’ve got to deal with the new property assessment and some other paperwork.”
“You too?” John said, rinsing her now empty plastic container out in his sink. “Shirley was over here screamin’ this morning, and I plan to go into the tax assessors office tomorrow and fight these tax raises. In this economy, who are they kidding?”