Crêpe Expectations

by Sarah Fox

  Since Lisa only had an hour off work, we settled down to eat after another minute or two of fussing over Orion. We laughed as the kitten kept us entertained during our lunch, chasing a ball around the dining room, pouncing on it whenever he got close to it and occasionally somersaulting over the toy.

  “What does Ivan think of Orion?” I asked as we were finishing up our chow mein.

  Lisa had started dating Ivan over the winter. It wasn’t a match I ever would have predicted before they started spending time together, but things seemed to be going well for them.

  “He adores him,” Lisa said. “And Orion loves him back. You should see them together. Orion likes to perch on Ivan’s shoulder. And he looks even tinier than usual when Ivan holds him.”

  I could picture that. Ivan was such a big, burly guy. Orion probably wasn’t much bigger than one of his hands.

  “Before we go,” Lisa said as we finished off the last of the food, “you have to show me the dress.”

  “You already saw the photo,” I reminded her.

  “I still want to see it in person,” she insisted.

  I retrieved the bag from the foyer and held up the garment to show her.

  “Oh, my gosh! That color!” she said as she fingered the green fabric. “The picture didn’t do it justice.”

  “The color is the first thing that caught my eye.” A hint of doubt squirmed its way into my mind. “Do you think it’s right for the garden party?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I guess I figured I’d wear one of my sundresses or something.”

  “It’ll be perfect,” Lisa said. “And Brett won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

  “He did seem to like the picture,” I said with a smile.

  I tucked the dress back into its bag, and we cleaned up our take-out containers. After Lisa had set out fresh water for Orion, we both gave him one last cuddle and kiss before leaving the house.

  “So,” Lisa said once we were walking back toward Main Street, “how are things with you and Brett now that you’ve been living together for a while?”

  “Great,” I said, smiling again. “He’s the first boyfriend I’ve ever lived with, and of course it’s taking some adjusting for both of us, but things are going really well. I love having him there with me. It just feels…right.”

  I glanced Lisa’s way and saw that she was grinning at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’m so happy for you. The two of you are perfect together.”

  “I can’t argue with that. I’m so glad I ran into him again after so many years.”

  Up until the previous spring, I hadn’t seen Brett since we were teenagers. I’d had a crush on him all those years ago, and when he walked into The Flip Side last March, I found out right away that he still gave me butterflies. Luckily, the attraction had been mutual.

  “It was meant to be,” Lisa said.

  “I think you’re right about that.” I realized I was fingering the seahorse pendant I wore around my neck, something I often did when I thought about Brett. The necklace had been a gift from him on my birthday, and I wore it almost every day.

  We’d reached Main Street, so I said goodbye to Lisa and she returned to work while I headed for the bakery to pick up a loaf of bread. The place was busy, with three people in line ahead of me at the counter and another half dozen patrons seated at the small tables off to the left, enjoying coffee or tea with their baked goods.

  Marielle’s assistant, Rachel, was serving the customers when I arrived, but by the time I was second in line, the bakery owner had appeared from the back.

  “I can help you over here, Marley,” Marielle said, waving me over to the second cash register at the other end of the counter. As was typical, her dark hair was tied back and her cheeks were flushed pink. “What can I get for you?”

  “A loaf of sliced multigrain, please,” I requested. “And a package of biscotti.”

  I’d recently discovered that her chocolate-dipped biscotti was delicious, especially when paired with a cup of orange pekoe tea.

  Marielle fetched the loaf of bread and a package of half a dozen biscotti. “Anything else?” she asked as she set the items on the counter.

  “That’s all for today, thanks.”

  “I hear Quaid has fully recovered,” she said as she punched buttons on the cash register. She glanced at the other customers and lowered her voice. “Unfortunately. I was hoping you’d get to judge with us again on the weekend.”

  I lowered my voice to match hers. “He’s not exactly Prince Charming, is he?”

  “More like a frog that will never turn into a prince,” Marielle said. “Except that’s insulting frogs, which isn’t fair.”

  I smiled. “There’s only one round of the competition left to go.”

  “That’s a relief, though I’ve enjoyed everything else about it. Quaid’s the only dark cloud on that horizon.”

  “Was it the stomach flu?” I asked. “I hope there’s not one going around.”

  “I’m not sure what it was. It seemed to be short lived, though. Apparently he was up and about the next day. I think it’s lucky he fell ill before he tasted any of the contestants’ food that day.”

  “You think he would have blamed them for food poisoning otherwise?”

  “I could see him doing that,” she said.

  “So could I.”

  I paid Marielle for my purchases and took a moment to chat with an elderly man who sometimes ate at The Flip Side with his wife.

  “Rachel, can you take care of things for a bit while I run an errand or two?” Marielle asked, removing her apron.

  “Sure thing,” Rachel replied.

  Marielle grabbed a red cardigan from the back and pulled it on as she headed for the door. I followed her out onto the sidewalk and waved as we set off in opposite directions. The sun was shining, lending pleasant warmth to the day and making me glad to be outdoors. I didn’t make it far along the street before I stopped to talk to another acquaintance—Mr. Gorski, the owner of Timeless Treasures. He was on his way to get a sandwich from the bakery, so we didn’t talk for too long, but I assured him he’d see me at his shop someday soon.

  When I was on my way again, I decided to walk along the beach instead of the road, so I followed an unpaved pathway that would take me down to the ocean. The path stretched between a stand of trees and a building, out of reach of the sun’s rays. I picked up my pace as I passed through the shade, eager to get back out into the sun, but I slowed down again when I heard a murmur of voices behind the chirping of the birds in the trees.

  At first I wasn’t sure where the voices were coming from, but then I spotted a flash of red between the trees. Someone was standing with their back to me, mostly hidden by branches and undergrowth. A woman, I realized by the sound of her voice, although I couldn’t make out what she was saying. She was talking with a man, one I didn’t recognize until he turned his head slightly. Then I realized it was Coach Hannigan.

  If I’d seen them out in the open, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but it struck me as odd that they were in among the trees, keeping their voices low, as if worried they might be overheard. Almost without conscious thought, I was taking my steps carefully now, trying to make as little noise as possible as I followed the pathway. I had the distinct feeling that they didn’t want to be disturbed, and I was hoping I could make my way down to the beach without them noticing me.

  I’d almost reached the end of the path when Coach Hannigan’s voice floated toward me on the breeze.

  “People respect me. I don’t want my good name dragged through the mud.”

  The woman said something in response that I couldn’t make out.

  “Good,” Hannigan said. “Keep it that way.”

  They parted ways then, the baseball coach str
iding through the trees toward the pathway and his companion heading for Wildwood Road. I hurried down to the beach, reaching the sand seconds later. When I glanced back over my shoulder, I saw Hannigan walking briskly in the other direction, heading toward town.

  As I strolled along the water’s edge, I enjoyed the salty, fresh air and the comforting rhythm of the ocean waves breaking gently against the shore. But although I tried to clear my mind as I walked, I couldn’t rid myself of the thought that the meeting I’d witnessed was a strange one.

  Chapter 14

  I spent the next morning in Port Angeles, doing some shopping and picking up some fabric samples from a home renovation store. When I’d inherited my beachfront Victorian, I’d also become the owner of all its furnishings, including some beautiful antiques. The only problem was that some of the pieces had worn, faded, and outdated upholstery. I’d already reupholstered an antique slipper chair, but there was a settee and matching wingback chairs in the living room that still needed attention.

  At the moment, the pieces of furniture were covered in rose-pink fabric. I wanted to change that to a color more my liking, but I wasn’t yet sure what I wanted to go with. I was hoping that by taking fabric samples home, the decision would become easier. It would also allow me to get input from Brett. He was more interested in building and renovating than decorating, but I still wanted his opinion.

  Once I’d finished running my errands and had the samples stashed in my car, I returned home, but only long enough to drop off my purchases. Bentley had gone to work with Brett again that morning and I was going to stop by the Wildwood Inn to see them. I was curious to know what the interior of the old mansion looked like now that Lonny and Hope had finished the renovations. Brett had mentioned my interest to the owners the day before, and they’d offered to give me a tour. Maybe while I was there I’d get some ideas for my own house.

  I followed the long, winding driveway through the trees and up past the stately Victorian. Brett’s work van was parked near the detached garage, and I pulled up behind it. The back doors of the van stood open, giving me a view of several potted plants that were no doubt waiting to be transplanted into the garden. Once out of my car, I peeked into the van for a better view of the plants. I spotted some pansies, winter heather in shades of pink and white, English daisies, and a few flowers I couldn’t name.

  Leaving the driveway, I wandered toward the back garden, going in search of Brett before I sought out Lonny and Hope. This time Brett was much closer to the house, working in a flower bed only a stone’s throw from the Victorian’s back porch. Bentley, lying in the grass, spotted me first. He jumped up and barreled across the lawn to meet me.

  “Hey, buddy,” I said, giving him a pat as his tail wagged.

  I had to be careful not to trip over him as he bounced around me while I tried to get closer to Brett.

  “Hey,” Brett said in greeting as I approached. “How was your morning?”

  “Good,” I replied, watching as he transferred English daisies from a plastic pot to the hole he’d prepared in the flower bed. “I got everything done that I needed to do in Port Angeles. How are things going here?”

  Brett dusted dirt from his work gloves before removing them and tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans. “Moving along well.” He stepped away from the edge of the flower bed so he could give me a kiss. “What do you think?”

  Bentley settled at our feet as we surveyed the large yard. I could tell that Brett had made good progress since my last visit. The flower beds were now bursting with color, dozens of blooming plants filling the plots that were previously empty.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said. “I’m impressed.”

  “Fortunately, Lonny and Hope seem to be too.”

  “That’s good news. How much do you have left to do?”

  Brett nodded toward the one remaining bed without flowers. “I need to put in some plants over there, and tomorrow I’ll be picking up the water feature they ordered. Hopefully it won’t take long to get it installed.”

  “Where’s that going?”

  He pointed to the flower bed closest to the back porch. “Right over there. Hope wants to be able to hear the water while she’s relaxing on the porch swing.”

  “That sounds like paradise.”

  Brett settled an arm across my shoulders. “You want a porch swing and a water feature? We could make it happen.”

  “Maybe a porch swing, but we’ve already got a water feature with the ocean on our doorstep.”

  “Good point. I don’t think any fountain could live up to that.” He wiped the back of one hand across his forehead, leaving a small smear of dirt by his temple. “Have you seen Lonny or Hope yet?”

  “Not yet. You were first on my list to visit.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he said with a smile.

  Bentley jumped up and nudged my knee with his nose.

  I gave him a pat on the head. “Okay, the two of you tied for first.”

  I brushed the dirt from Brett’s temple and gave him a quick kiss. “But I’ll go look for them now and let you get back to work.”

  “Stop by again before you head home?”

  “I will,” I assured him.

  I gave Bentley one last pat before crossing the lawn. He whined at first, wanting to follow me and stay with Brett at the same time, but when Brett spoke to him in a low voice, he settled down. I glanced over my shoulder before heading around the side of the house and saw him lying down at the edge of the flower bed, resting his head on his paws.

  I could have tried knocking on the back door, but since I didn’t know Lonny and Hope well, I felt more comfortable going around the front. There was no porch swing on this side of the house, but there was some nice white wicker furniture with colorful seat cushions. The inn’s future guests would have a beautiful view of the front garden whenever they chose to sit out there with a cup of coffee or a book to read.

  The inn wasn’t right on the beach, but the property was private and peaceful. Hopefully it would become a popular place for visitors to stay. The Barrons had put so much work into the place and they seemed like such a nice couple that I wanted their business venture to succeed.

  When I knocked on the front door, I heard footsteps approaching and a second later Hope opened the door and smiled at me.

  “Hi, Marley. Come on in.”

  I thanked her as I stepped inside the foyer. My attention was immediately drawn to the impressive, curving staircase across the spacious entryway. The dark wood of the stairs and banister gleamed in the sunlight streaming in through the open door. When Hope closed it, I noticed small beams of colored light shimmering on the stairway and on the rug that covered much of the foyer floor. I turned and looked up. I’d been so focused on the porch and its furniture when I approached the house that I hadn’t noticed the stained-glass window above the door.

  “That’s beautiful,” I said, my gaze still transfixed on the stained glass.

  The window featured red climbing roses with verdant green foliage and little birds perched here and there among the flowers.

  “I love it too,” Hope said. “It’s not original, unfortunately, but I can’t be too sad about that, considering how nice this one is.”

  “It really is gorgeous.”

  As I removed my sneakers, I took in the rest of the spacious entryway. An antique desk sat off to the left, a computer and phone sitting on top of it along with a vase of bright flowers. On my right was a mahogany bench with an ornately carved back and legs, and when I glanced up I noticed a crystal chandelier.

  “Brett tells me you’ve been renovating your home too,” Hope said as she led me into a room off to the right of the foyer.

  “We are. Slowly. It’s Victorian too, although not nearly as grand as this one.”

  “This is a lot of house,” Hope said. “Much more suited as an inn,
I think.”

  “I’m sure people will love staying here.”

  We were standing in the middle of a large parlor. Like the foyer, it was furnished with antiques and featured lots of gleaming wood. A beautiful bay window let in plenty of natural light, and a green-tiled Victorian fireplace created a feature in the middle of one wall.

  I soon discovered that the rest of the rooms in the inn were as beautiful and as tastefully furnished as the parlor. Hope led me through a library—well stocked with books—a dining room, and a small office. The kitchen was at the back of the house with a view of the garden where Brett was still at work. As I’d done with my house, Lonny and Hope had updated the kitchen with modern appliances, but they’d managed to work in several charming features like plank flooring, glass-fronted cabinets, and crown molding.

  Also at the back of the house were a conservatory and a second living room. Lonny and Hope intended the latter for their own private use. They’d also added a small powder room as part of their personal quarters. A back stairway provided access to the master suite, but Hope led me to the front staircase to get to the second floor.

  All the guest rooms were stunning and luxurious, with four-poster beds and pretty views out every window. When we reached one of the bedrooms at the back of the house, I brushed aside the sheers hanging over one of the windows and took in the sight of the garden stretching out beyond the house.

  “We’re so pleased with the work Brett has done with the garden,” Hope said, crossing the room to stand beside me.

  “I know he’s enjoying the project. And everything looks beautiful.” I recalled something Brett had told me when he’d first accepted the job at the inn. “Your aunt used to own this place, right? Are you from Wildwood Cove originally?”

  “I was born in Denver, but I moved here when I was three. My mom wasn’t able to look after me so my aunt and uncle raised me. This is the house I grew up in. I’ve always loved it.” She gazed around the room with a smile on her face. “My aunt and uncle ran a bed-and-breakfast together, but once my uncle died my aunt didn’t keep the business going much longer. I attended college back east, and then Lonny and I spent a few years overseas. When we came back, my aunt was more than ready to downsize. At first the plan was to help her clean out the house and get it ready to sell, but I didn’t want to let the place go. Luckily, Lonny got on board with the idea of running an inn, so we bought the property from my aunt, and here we are.”