by Kathi Daley
“And today?” Velma asked.
“She sent me just a single sentence that let me know she was thinking of me. It’s not a lot, but it is something. To me, the act offers hope that maybe at some point in the future we can heal our relationship. She’s the only family I have left.” I glanced at Velma. “Well, at least the only family that is related by blood. Since moving to Holiday Bay, I feel like I have a new family that means much more to me than I can ever say.”
“I know what you mean. One of the reasons I would never consider a move from Holiday Bay is because I have family here, although truth be told, not a single member of that family is related by blood.”
“Your parents are no longer with you?”
Velma shook her head. “They’ve been gone a long time. I do, like you, have a sister, but like you, we are estranged. She moved away a very long time ago and I haven’t seen her since.”
“I’m so sorry. When was the last time you saw your sister?”
“More than thirty years ago.”
I choked on my coffee. “Thirty years? But why? It seems that in thirty years you could have found a way to mend fences.”
Velma shrugged. “The years get away from you if you aren’t keeping a close eye on them. When Regina left, I assumed she’d be back. I really didn’t even fret about her departure at the time. We had both set our sights on the same guy, a guy she loved but who chose me, and I guess I figured that a little separation would be good for us. I hoped it would give us some perspective so that we could talk things through and put our argument behind us.” A look of sadness came over Velma’s face. “I really thought she’d be home by Christmas. Reggie loved Christmas at Holiday Bay. But Christmas came and went and she didn’t come home, so I decided to set my sights on the following December. But the years sort of melted one into the other, and she never did come home. I guess at this point I should assume she never will.”
“And the guy?”
“Married him.” Velma let out a laugh that sounded more like a snort. “Didn’t last more than a couple of miserable years. Guess I should have let Reggie have him, but I was young and he was everything I thought I’d ever wanted. He was a mistake I have lived to regret.”
“You should go to Reggie and talk to her. Tell her that you made a mistake and are sorry.”
“Can’t. I have no idea where she is.”
“There must be a way to find her. Have you tried?”
Velma shook her head. “Seems pointless at this point in time. I may not have known where to find Reggie all these years, but she knew where to find me. If she had wanted to talk to me at any point during the past thirty years, she could have called or come by.” Velma looked up as a family of six came in through the front door. “I need to get to work. You enjoy those biscuits.”
That family turned out to be the beginning of the breakfast crowd, so I finished my food in silence. Wow, thirty years. I guess I understood how little things could turn into big things and people we cared about could drift away, but thirty years? Maybe Velma didn’t know where her sister was after all this time, but the mystery writer in me assured me that there must be a way to find her. With today’s technology, oftentimes a name and a directed internet search was enough to provide the information I knew we’d need to at least begin our search.
Velma was still busy when I’d finished my meal, so it seemed apparent I wouldn’t be able to speak to her about it today. I left a nice tip, grabbed Rufus, and headed to my car. As long as I was in town, I figured I’d stop by the market, so I set Rufus on the passenger seat of my SUV and drove in that direction. The town was beginning to show signs of life by this point, as folks headed to work and parents began ferrying their children to school.
After I purchased the items I needed, I headed out to the parking lot, where I stood for a moment and simply listened to the sound of the wind whistling through the trees. Snow flurries filled the air, blocking out the clear skies I’d woken to. Winter in Maine certainly wasn’t for everyone, with the frigid temperatures and frequent snow, but given the current parameters of my life, I actually found the isolation to be pretty perfect.
Once my groceries were loaded, I returned the store cart and headed home. Home, I thought to myself. A word that means so much more than just a place to hang one’s hat. A word that at one point in my life I’d taken for granted. A word I’d lost along the way, only to rediscover it in a place I’d never imagined before tragedy had consumed my life.
Chapter 2
“Lonnie was by earlier,” Georgia said as soon as I walked into the oceanfront cottage we shared with an armful of groceries. “He said that there is a situation with the plumbing and he’d like you to stop over at the house when you have a chance.”
I set the brown paper bags on the counter and then brushed the snow from my long dark hair. “Did he say what the problem with the plumbing entailed?”
“No.” Georgia shook her head, her long blond braid swaying with her movement. “He just said he needed to speak to you. He had a man with him. I can’t be certain who he was, but from the clothes he was wearing, I assume he must have been the plumber.”
“Okay. I’ll head over there now. I couldn’t find the brand of white chocolate you asked for, but the man at the store said this one would work just as well.”
“I’m sure it will be fine. And thank you. I might have overcommitted just a bit when I volunteered to provide all the sweets for the bake sale the children’s art project is holding this weekend.”
I smiled but didn’t respond. Georgia was a genius in the kitchen, and her baked goods already had potential customers from miles around talking about the inn and the food that they anticipated would be found there. If I had to guess, we were going to be sold out the first six months we were in business. “I’m going to run over to talk to Lonnie before I get busy and forget all about it. When I get back we can go over the formatting for the new website. I have everything set up so all we have to do is preview it, make sure it appears the way we want it to, and then we can go live.”
Georgia’s blue eyes shone with excitement. “I can’t believe how fast we got that together. Once we get the website up, folks should start talking about our theme weekends, wine tastings, and special events. I have a feeling we are going to have folks clamoring to make reservations.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
“I don’t suppose Lonnie has said exactly when we might be able to open?”
“When we first got started, he said July,” I answered. “I’ll ask him if he is still on track now that he has had a chance to really dig into things. The first floor seemed to go pretty fast, but there is a lot more heavy-duty renovation to be done on the second and third floors.”
Georgia paused with a sack of flour in her hands. “It’d be fun to open for the Fourth of July, but I don’t want to book anything that close to our anticipated opening date in the event that problems pop up along the way. I think for now we should just take the names and email addresses of anyone who’s interested in booking with us and we can get back to them when we have a firm date.”
“I totally agree. It would be too stressful to have people booked and then not be able to open on time for one reason or another.”
“As soon as we start to gather some email addresses, we might want to send out a newsletter with updates on the renovation.”
“I love the idea of a newsletter. I would think there would be a fair number of people who would be interested in the renovation process. And a newsletter would be a good way to keep our potential guests engaged until we are far enough along to begin taking bookings.” I paused to let the idea settle. “You know, even once the construction is complete, we are going to have a lot of work to do to get the place ready. We’ll need to buy furniture, dishware, and linens. We may even want to think about a fall opening.”
“Just in time for leaf-changing season,” Georgia said. “I am anxious to get started, but I suppose a fall opening
would be less stressful than trying to open for the summer season. If we can set a firm date, we might even be able to book the rooms clear through until the end of the year. Maybe we can have a huge open house on Labor Day weekend.”
“That might be something to consider.”
I watched as Rufus sauntered up to Georgia’s dog, Ramos, and then headed back out the door. I could hear Van Halen blasting from someone’s radio before I reached the main house, where the men and women on Lonnie’s crew were hammering and sawing and singing along to the loud rock and roll music.
When I entered the house through the new French doors that made up an entire wall of the dining area, I paused to look around. Things really were coming together. When I’d first arrived at the dilapidated old house two months ago, I have to admit that I suffered more than a few moments of panic as I realized the enormity of the project I’d taken on. But then I met Lonnie Parker, and his confident approach to the remodel, as well as his love for every step of the project, helped me to overcome my fear and embrace the magic of the whole thing.
“Oh good, you are here,” Lonnie said as he walked up with a tall man who looked to be in his fifties, carrying a clipboard. “Abby Sullivan, this is Lucas Fitzgerald. Lucas owns Fitzgerald Plumbing. It seems we may have a small problem with the bathroom addition we are doing on the first floor.”
“I’m happy to meet you, ma’am,” Lucas said.
“Likewise.” I smiled back at him. “I thought the first-floor bath was already done.”
“Everything has been installed and is ready to go, but I had Lucas come by to hook things up, and he noticed a problem I didn’t.”
“What seems to be the problem?”
“Water pressure and old pipes,” the plumber replied.
“I’m afraid I’ll need more than that,” I said in response.
“There are actually two separate but related problems,” Lonnie informed me. “The first is that the old pipes that fed the small bath we tore out to build the pantry are too narrow to accommodate the water flow capacity necessary for the new features we decided to add to the bathrooms, including the Jacuzzi tub, the rain shower, and the double sinks. If we want to upgrade the fixtures, we are going to need to upgrade the pipes.”
“And the second problem?” I asked. “You said there were two.”
“The water heater that is located downstairs and services the kitchen, laundry, and guest bath, is pretty far away from the new bath we are building as part of the suite. I’d planned to run new pipes under the floor and splice into the existing system, but Lucas here thinks it makes more sense if we tap into the new water heater we are installing on the second floor, which will be located just above the new bathroom. To do that, we will need to tear into the wall in the library, which is next to the utility closet, and replace the pipes. That would be a relatively easy solution except for the fact that we will need to remove and replace the preexisting shelving in the library, which we had talked about trying to preserve.”
I looked at Lucas. “Will going up through the wall be less expensive than running new pipes to service the bathroom?”
“A lot less expensive,” Lucas confirmed. “Plus your guests won’t be competing for hot water with the laundry and dishwasher.”
I looked at Lonnie. “Okay. Then go ahead and take out the wall. I’ve been thinking about replacing the bookshelves with the same wood we plan to use in the third-floor parlor. I think in the long run it will provide more cohesion between the rooms.”
Lonnie blew out a breath that I imagined was a sigh of relief. “I couldn’t agree more. I think that it will cost a bit more, but we can repurpose the wood from the old bookshelves for other rooms. In the long run, I think new shelving in the library will look fabulous.”
I looked at Lucas. “I would like to see a full estimate for the additional work we have just discussed before you order supplies or start the demo. You can just give it to Lonnie.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll get to work on that right away.”
After Lucas left I looked at Lonnie. “What was with the ma’am? Do I look that old today?”
Lonnie laughed. “You look beautiful today, as always. Lucas is an old-fashioned sort who calls any women he doesn’t know well ma’am, especially when he meets them for the first time in an official capacity. Once he gets to know you a bit, I’m sure he’ll refer to you as Abby.”
“I hope so. I don’t think I’m quite ready to be called ma’am. So, how are things going overall? Are we still on track to be done in June or July?”
“June no, July maybe. The first floor should be done by the end of this month with the exception of the refurbishment of the mantel. It is such an old and intricately carved piece, and I know you said you wanted to preserve it, so I thought I’d call in a buddy of mine who specializes in repairing and refurbishing old wood. He’s a real artist. I think you will really be happy with his work.”
“Do you think he might be able to replicate the crown molding that is missing in the dining room?”
“Actually, I do. If anyone can, Bobby can. He is booked up through the end of the month, but he said he could get us on his calendar for late February if we are interested.”
“If you think he is our guy, book him. I’d love to have the first floor done. I think the place will begin to feel more like a home once I can begin to decorate and fill the place with furniture.”
“You might want to hold off on that until we finish the demo on the second and third floors. It’ll be dusty, that’s for sure, and I’d hate to see you move in furniture that could end up being damaged.”
“You make a good point.” I clasped my hands together. “I’m just getting so excited to get things underway.”
“I will say that you and Georgia have done a good job spreading the hype. Folks around town are already talking about your ideas for destination weddings, theme weekends, and outdoor concerts on the bluff. I think this place is going to be huge. A real must-see venue on the New England coastline.”
“I hope so.” I glanced at my watch. “I should get back. I arranged to call my agent this afternoon, and I want to have everything together that I know she will ask me about.”
“Before you go, Lacy wanted me to invite you and Georgia to dinner this Saturday. It is the twins’ birthday and we are going to have a few friends join us for the celebration.”
“I’d love to come. I’ll ask Georgia and then call Lacy to confirm.”
“That’d be great. Lacy has told me time and time again how much she enjoys spending time with you and Georgia. She said she’d been so busy being a wife and mother that she had almost forgotten what it was like to be a friend.”
I laughed. “I have to say that she has been good for me as well. Your woman knows how to have a good time. The last time she took Georgia and me antiquing and wine tasting, I think I laughed more than I ever have in my whole life.”
“Lacy is good that way. She knows how to squeeze the most out of life. That is one of the main reasons I fell in love with her. Well, that and her lasagna. The woman can cook.”
I nodded. “Yes, she can.”
By the time I got back to the cottage, Georgia had put away the groceries and started browning sausage for the pasta dish she was making for dinner. “I need to do some work before I call Kate and I told her I’d call her at five, so I’ll be in my room.”
“What time would you like dinner to be ready?” Georgia asked.
“I guess around six thirty. My call shouldn’t last more than an hour. Is Nikki coming by?”
Nikki Peyton was our next-door neighbor. Of course, living where we did, our next-door neighbor was actually a half mile away, but Nikki and her older brother, Tanner, were about the best neighbors I had ever had.
“She hasn’t called to say she won’t be here, so I am assuming she will. I told her to just stop by when she got off work. If you are still working when she gets here, she can go with me to walk Ramos while the casserole is baking
.”
“Sounds good. Holler if you need anything.”
I closed myself into my bedroom, which also served as my office, turned on my computer, and pulled up the file in which I had been keeping outlines, timetables, character names, and series ideas. I knew that as my agent, Kate would want to see that I had a business plan to market the book once it was complete, and I wanted to show her that Abby the heartbroken widow had found her peace and Abby the hardworking author was back. I knew that getting back to the point where I was with my career before my husband and infant son were killed in the auto accident would not be an easy task, but I’d found a new purpose and direction in my life after moving to Maine, buying the house on the bluff, and meeting Georgia, Rufus, and Ramos.
I heard voices in the kitchen and assumed that Nikki had arrived. Although Georgia was a good decade older than her, the two had really hit it off, and Nikki was spending as much time here with us as she did at the dog training ranch her brother owned just down the coast. A scratch at the door let me know that Rufus wanted to hang out in here with me, so I opened the door to allow the huge orange cat to enter.
“Smart cat,” I said as he began to purr. “You know now that Nikki is here it’s going to get giggly out there.”
“Meow.”
I picked Rufus up, gave him a scratch under the chin, and then set him on the bed. “You can hang with me, but you have to let me work. There will be no jumping up and stretching out on my keyboard while I am trying to write. Got it?”
“Meow.”
“Okay, great. I’m glad we understand each other.”
I sat down at my computer and took a moment to gather my thoughts. I hadn’t published a single thing since the accident, and I knew how important this book was. Part of me was terrified to finish it and turn it over to Kate for scrutiny, but another was excited about revisiting this particular chapter of my life.
