“How about next spring, after we open the spa building?” When disappointment crosses his face, I add, “Spring is sooner than summer.”
“And winter is sooner than spring,” he says with a shy smile.
“No way! I can’t swing a wedding so soon. Not with all the uncertainty with the inn and Jazz.”
Jack appears wounded. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were having doubts.”
I lay my head on his chest. “No doubts. We agreed to wait, Jack. We’ve only known each other a few months.”
Those months now seem like years, and I’m ready to be with him. Or am I? Am I having second thoughts about marrying him? Is that what’s causing this uneasy feeling in my gut?
After locking up the house, Jack and I go to the lunch counter at the Hope Springs Pharmacy on Main Street for a bowl of homemade chili. While we eat, he shows me drawings for remodeling the kitchen in the new house. “This is over the top, Jack. Shouldn’t we wait?”
“Take my word for it, we do not want to live through a kitchen renovation.” He rolls up the plans and secures them with a rubber band. “Stop worrying about money, Stella. I stand to double what I’ve invested in my house. I’ll get a lot of the materials at cost and do much of the work myself.” He bonks me playfully on the head with the plans. “If it makes you feel better, you can pay for lunch.”
I laugh out loud. “I’ll have to pay you back. I don’t have my purse with me.”
He cuts his eyes at me. “You’re a high maintenance woman, Stella Boor.”
He pays the bill and we drive back to the inn. Naomi is at the check-in desk when I walk through to my office. “You look flushed,” she says to me. “Did you have a little lunchtime delight with your boyfriend?”
Naomi claims my engagement to Jack isn’t legit, because he hasn’t given me a ring. I get warped pleasure out of flashing my new diamond at her. “Fiancé, Naomi.”
Her face turns to stone, and I don’t even try to hide my smile. “So, are you making any progress in booking new conferences?”
She glares at me. “I’m working on it.”
“That’s what you said when I asked you about it a week ago. You’ve been the inn’s guest services managers for years. You helped coordinate conferences in the past. You know the contacts at these companies. Are you dragging your feet to annoy me?”
“Get over yourself, Stella.”
“We need this business, Naomi.”
“Okay. I’m on it.”
“What about our marketing campaign? If we’re not already, we should target brides looking for a destination wedding.”
She glares at me. “I’ll get right on it.”
Jazz emerges from the office, licking chocolate-smudged lips. Her face lights up when she sees me. “Stella!” She runs over and hugs me.
I lift her into my arms. “What’re you doing here, kiddo? Why aren’t you in school?”
“I have a dentist appointment.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re eating chocolate before you go to the dentist?”
She hunches her tiny shoulders. “Why not? The dentist is gonna clean them, anyway.”
I laugh, kissing the tip of her nose.
When a guest approaches Naomi with a question, Jazz and I step away from the desk. “How are things at home, kiddo?”
Tears well in Jazz’s amber eyes. “I miss you and Jack.”
I thumb away a tear on her cheek. “Oh, honey. We miss you too. It's natural for us to miss one another. We lived together all summer.”
“Can I come live with you again? Mommy ignores me. She never watches TV with me or reads me books. All she does is play with her phone.”
Typical. “How’s your reading coming?”
“My teacher thinks I’m getting better. Mommy says I don’t need to go to my tutor anymore.”
I manage a smile. “Good girl! Keep up the hard work.” I feel totally frustrated by this situation. When Jazz moved back in with Naomi at the start of the school year, Naomi agreed, at my insistence, to let Jazz continue with her tutoring sessions and ballet lessons. Naomi is her biological mother and legal guardian. As much as it pains me to admit it, she doesn’t owe me any explanations about reading tutors or ballet lessons.
5
Everett
On Thursday morning, after a five-mile run, Everett makes his weekly trip to the town’s library. Sitting down at one of the public-use computers, he signs into his Gmail account and deletes all of the expected emails from Carla and Louie without reading any. His mom has written her usual chatty email, relaying funny stories about the rich women who pay her to alter their expensive clothes. She talks about these women as though they’re her friends. She has no other social life. When she’s not sewing, she’s taking care of his diabetic father who doesn’t appreciate the sacrifices she makes for him. Everett is her only child, and he suspects not having him around has been difficult for her. But she’s a good sport. She doesn’t ask where he’s living or when he’s coming home. She understands he needs time to himself to sort through some issues.
He types out a quick response, telling his mom he loves and misses her, and clicks send.
Everett takes his time walking to work, enjoying the warm autumn weather. Despite the early hour, tourists and locals crowd the sidewalks, window shopping and dog walking. Like most college towns, boutiques and eating establishments, many of them geared to students, line Main Street. Caffeine on the Corner offers a mean Frappuccino, but he prefers to satisfy his sweet tooth with two scoops of butter pecan ice cream from Dairy Deli across the street. The locals claim Elmo’s Bistro has the best food in town. He’s only been there once for Sunday brunch, but in his opinion, it can’t compare to Jameson’s.
When he arrives at the inn, he’s relieved to see the fisherman loading luggage
