He hated the feeling that someone was pulling his strings as well as everyone else’s here.
AFTER BREAKFAST, SHIRLEY headed back to the motel while everyone else headed deeper into town. Buckhorn was so small that it wouldn’t take them long before they would all be at Dave’s bar. She found herself getting ticked off at her best friend. Jen had talked her into this. Twisted her arm was more like it. Jen never took no for an answer. That was probably one reason her relationships with men never lasted. That and her mouth. Jen would cut a man with that tongue and make him bleed.
Right now, Shirley wasn’t sure why Jen was her best friend. She’d felt left out last night at the campfire—just as she had ten years ago when she and Jen had worked at the hotel together. It was depressing reliving that summer.
When Jen had made her move on Claude and then gone into the woods last night with Jason, that had felt like the last straw. She’d thought about texting Lars, seeing if he wanted to meet up at her apartment at the motel.
She hadn’t gotten the chance before Ben had moved over beside her at the campfire and tried to strike up a conversation. Shirley wasn’t interested but tried not to be rude. She pretended to get a text and pulled out her phone. In the process of sending a text first to Jen to tell her she was leaving, she really did get a text.
From Lars. Shirley had felt her heart do that little dippy-do—a little more dippy-do than usual. She knew it was because she’d been so miserable by the fire with these people she liked just a little better than she had Megan, whom she’d despised. Seeing a text from Lars made her feel better. She had a boyfriend, a job, a place to live. Her life wasn’t so bad.
She opened the text and read.
WTF Shirley? You said you weren’t going to that stupid reunion with people you can’t stand. I stopped by the motel and was told you wouldn’t be back until Monday. WTF?
Shirley had felt her face heat from more than the fire. Lars had obviously stopped by for a booty call, and she wasn’t there waiting for him like she always was. She never knew if he could get away from his live-in supposedly not-girlfriend who was pregnant with someone else’s baby, and now he was angry. Boo-hoo.
The text had set her off. She knew exactly what Jen would say. “Serves him right for taking you for granted. This is good for him. Might make him appreciate you more. Might even get him to leave Tina and commit to you. If that’s really what you want.”
Was that really what she wanted? If he ever did get off the fence and leave Tina, would she feel trapped into living with him or, worse, marrying him? Did she ever want to get married again after two strikes out? She didn’t think so. The truth was, most days she wasn’t that unhappy with the way things were now.
She’d started to text Lars back but was interrupted. “Thought you might like another beer,” Benjamin had said next to her at the fire. He’d gone to the cooler and come back with a cold brew just for her. He’d smiled as he handed it to her. It was so thoughtful that she’d tried to remember the last time—or any time—Lars had done something thoughtful for her.
Looking at Benjamin, she’d seen that he’d been flirting with her. Or at least trying. She’d recognized the smile. Let Lars stew in his own juices. She’d put her phone away and smiled back.
Now at the motel, she checked to make sure everything was running smoothly. It was. Her friend appeared to be doing a fine job of taking care of the motel in her absence. It really was a no-brainer.
But she busied herself double-checking to make sure the register was up to date. She was at the desk when the door opened, and her lover’s baby mama walked in.
HER GRANDMOTHER’S LIST in hand again, Casey wandered through the hotel, feeling as if she was on a scavenger hunt. More and more, she suspected her grandmother had planned it this way. At the end of the wings of each floor there was a small garden room. She couldn’t remember what room had the antique Tiffany lampshade as per the neat script. You’ll know it when you see it, Anna had written.
Casey started on the north-wing ground floor, going through each garden room. Each had its own colors and designs, each more lovely than she remembered. Her grandmother had loved selecting fabrics and patterns over the years, keeping with the character of the hotel. She would spend months looking for a certain fabric or lamp or vase.
Casey had never appreciated how perfect each room was until now. It hurt to see that most were in excellent shape. She knew that all of the furnishings would be sold along with the kitchen equipment, which was nearly brand-new. She couldn’t bear to do it and was happy when Finn had added an amount to his offer for the contents of the hotel—minus the listed keepsakes.
She found the Tiffany lampshade late in the afternoon. The hotel had already filled with evening shadows. The hallways were dim. Some of the wall-sconce bulbs needed to be replaced. Not going to happen, she reminded herself. This was no longer her responsibility—as soon as she signed the papers to sell it.
It was no wonder that she’d lost track of time. She found herself pausing in each sunroom, taking in the decor, feeling her grandmother’s hand as if seeing each room
