Cecily appears table side with order pad in hand. She winks at Jazz. “Are you still going with the Mickey Mouse pancakes, kid?”
Jazz smiles and gives her a thumbs-up.
Cecily turns her attention to me. “What about you, boss?”
I study the menu. Even though I know the offerings by heart, I have trouble deciding between my favorites. “I’ll have the arugula and goat cheese egg-white omelet, please.”
She jots down our order. “Anything else?”
“That’s all. Looks like a full house for brunch.”
“As I told you last night, business is booming. We sold out for both seatings for Thanksgiving Day. I’ve been working on the menu.”
Stella nods at the empty chair beside Jazz. “Can you sit for a minute? I have an idea I want to run by you.”
“Sure!” Cecily slides into the seat. “What’s up?”
“What do you think about having a mock Thanksgiving dinner sometime before the big day? I’d like to invite the other team members plus some family and a few friends as a way of showing my appreciation for all the hard work and support these past few months.”
“In other words, you want to have a Friendsgiving!” Cecily’s face is bright. “I love the idea. It would give me a chance to have a trial run on a few new dishes. When were you thinking of having it?”
“What about next Sunday? Since the restaurant is closed on Sunday nights.”
“Perfect,” Cecily says. “Can we get together one morning this week to go over the menu?”
“Text me some times, and let’s get it on the calendar.”
“Will do.” Cecily rises from the table. “I’m off to fix chocolate chip pancakes.”
Jazz looks up from coloring and smiles. As she watches Cecily walk away, she asks, “Am I invited to the Friendsgiving?”
“Of course. Do you want to design the invitation?”
Jazz’s golden eyes grow big. “Really?”
“Sure! You’ve got paper and crayons right here.”
While we wait for our food, I show Jazz how to draw a turkey by outlining her hand. She colors the palm area brown and fills in the finger feathers in red, yellow, green, and orange.
“Here.” She slides the paper over to me. “Is this good?”
Lifting the paper, I study the turkey. “It’s excellent. I’ll type in the wording at the top, scan it, and email it out to all our invitees.”
Our food arrives, and we discuss the upcoming holidays while we eat. Her face lights up when she talks about dancing the role of Clara in the Christmas performance. “Will you talk to Mommy about letting me be in the performance?”
“I’ll do my best, kiddo.” Although I have a sneaking suspicion this situation is more about Naomi trying to undermine me than her not wanting Jazz to dance ballet.
After brunch, when we find Naomi waiting for us in front of the cottage, I say to Jazz, “Run inside for a minute while I talk to your mom.”
When Jazz starts up the steps to the porch, Naomi grabs onto her coat hood. “Get in the car, Jasmine. I have to be somewhere.”
As she stomps off toward the silver sedan, Jazz sticks her tongue out at her mother’s back.
I press my lips thin to stifle a smile. I wait for the car door to slam before I say to Naomi, “She has her heart set on dancing in the Christmas performance.”
“So that’s what this is all about.”
“Yes, Naomi. You’re well aware of how much ballet means to her. Continuing with her lessons is a condition of our agreement.”
Naomi’s glare pins me against the side of my cottage. “You can shove our agreement where the sun don’t shine, Stella. I haven’t had a drink since early July, and I’m attending AA meetings regularly. As of today, my period of probation is officially over. If I don’t want my daughter to take ballet, she’s not going to take ballet.”
Several threats come to mind, but I bite my tongue until it bleeds. I have no evidence to back any of them up. Yet.
With head held high, Naomi rounds the corner of her car to the driver’s side. I’ll let her think she’s won for now. But she will get what’s coming to her if it’s the last thing I do.
As they drive off, I stare at the ground, kicking at the gravel in the road. I can’t bear to see Jazz’s disappointed face in the backseat window.
When I turn toward the cottage, I spot Brian and Opal coming up the sidewalk from the lake.
“What was that about?” Brian asks.
I explain about the ballet lessons and Jazz running away and Naomi’s new boyfriend. “I did what you asked of me. I’ve given Naomi the benefit of the doubt one too many times. My staff is losing respect for me because of it. But no more. I will get my sister away from that monster.”
Opal pulls me in for a half hug. “We’re behind you all the way, Stella.”
When I look over at Brian, he nods his head in agreement. “We’ll figure it out. Billy put certain measures in place for this very reason.”
I watch mother and son walk slowly across the road and climb the steps to the terrace. Inside the cottage, I locate the flash drive my father left me. When I insert the memory stick into my laptop, my father’s face fills the screen. I’ve watched this video countless times since Brian gave it to me back in July. While I never had the pleasure of meeting my father, for six months, I’ve been living his life, seeing the inn emerge from a state of near ruin through his eyes.
He talks about his relationship with my mother, the love of his life, and his regret in not having the chance to know me. “I’ve used private investigators to keep tabs on you all these years, Stella. You’re the best of Hannah and me. You’re intelligent and independent.
