twenty-five
Present Day
Molly raised her backside into the air, going into downward dog position. The backs of her thighs stretched painfully. “Ouch.”
“Didn’t I tell you not to take so many weeks off?” Skye’s long lean body was in perfect form. She held the position effortlessly, not a single sign of strain.
Molly felt the blood rushing to her head. “Nobody likes hearing ‘told you so.’”
They were in Skye’s dance/yoga studio on a slow Thursday morning. Molly had the day off, and her friend had no classes until ten.
Skye hadn’t planned on this particular occupation. She was supposed to study psychology at Clemson. But her mom was an alcoholic, and Skye felt she had to stay behind and look after her. Molly knew all about giving up your dreams for the greater good.
Skye shifted into warrior position and Molly followed suit, going into the deep lunge with her hands stretched overhead.
Her front thigh trembled, and sweat beaded on her forehead. “You’re killing me.”
“That’s what you get for ignoring me for weeks.”
Molly felt a twinge of guilt. “If it’s any consolation, I’m paying for it now.”
“It does help, actually.” Skye’s lips twitched. “But for the record, I’m taking it easy on you.”
“I’ve got to get back to some kind of routine.”
“You’ve been hit-or-miss since the accident, even with book club. That’s not like you. I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’ve missed you. Does that help?”
“Immensely. And I know you’ve been through it. You’re still grieving, and now you’re also overwhelmed with the inn. And then there’s that project you’re obsessing over.”
“I’m not obsessing.”
“Or perhaps it’s the cute guest you’re obsessing over.” Skye gave her a coy look as she transitioned to a new position.
“Adam? We’re just working together on the project, that’s all. He’s very nice and easy to talk to. He’s helping me. That’s it.”
Skye peeked at Molly from under her arm, her face slightly contorted as they were upside down at the moment. Her long dark ponytail reached all the way to the ground. “Um, I was actually talking about his friend. You know, the one you went on a date with?”
Molly’s face heated, her core temperature going up about ten degrees. “Oh, him.”
“Yes, him.” Skye lowered her body to the ground, going to upward-facing dog, her body arching gracefully back. “Interesting.”
Molly tried for the same position and winced at the stretch. “What’s interesting, that I have the flexibility of the average tree trunk?”
“No . . . that you assumed I was talking about Adam. I thought you said the date with Jordan went well.”
“It did. We’ve been texting off and on since he returned to New York. He’s nice.”
“Nice?”
“Yes, nice. Is there something wrong with nice?”
“Not at all. I just wonder if you might be more interested in Adam, that’s all.”
Funny, Molly had been wondering the same thing. She just wasn’t quite ready to admit it out loud.
Besides, Jordan was great. And he was, after all, the author whose work she loved so much. He wrote words that made her heart stutter. That made her feel understood. So what if she hadn’t felt immediate in-person chemistry. They’d only had one date. She needed to give it a chance.
Molly was ready to talk about something else. “How’s your love life going? Ever hear back from Coffee Guy?” A couple weeks ago Skye had bumped into someone at the coffee shop who’d caught her interest.
“Change of subject duly noted. But nope. Never saw him again. I guess he was just passing through. Story of my life.” They talked about Skye’s prospects for a while, then the conversation moved on to work and family.
“So how’s your little project going?” Skye asked when they’d exhausted the other topics. “Getting any closer to finding Benjamin?”
“We found his middle initial this week. Adam’s going to ask his mom for suggestions. She helps people research their family history, ancestry and such. He thinks she might have some good tips. I just hope Benjamin’s still alive.”
Skye gave her a long, steady look. Before returning to her pose.
“What?” Molly asked.
Skye took her time transitioning to the next pose, a look of perfect peace on her pretty face. “Why do you think this is so important to you, Molly? Finding this man?”
“You know what a big romantic I am. I couldn’t just throw that letter away and forget I’d ever read it, could I?”
“I know but . . . I just wonder if there’s something deeper there. You seem kind of consumed by it.” Skye eased lower into the position.
Molly followed, her muscles going rigid, both at the stretch and at her friend’s prying. Skye could psychoanalyze with the best of them. Never mind that she was usually right.
“You’ve got to stop watching so much Dr. Phil,” Molly said lightly.
Skye gave her a look.
“Sometimes an interest is just an interest.”
“And sometimes it isn’t,” Skye said gently, stretching forward. “I know you were really upset about your last conversation with your parents. Do you think that might have something to do with it?”
“That was nothing. I’m over it.” It wasn’t as though she’d argued with her parents or anything. They’d simply called her at college, and she’d been on her way out. End of story.
You brushed them off.
That empty, achy feeling filled her middle as it always did when she thought about that last conversation. Her eyes burned. Okay, maybe she wasn’t quite over it. Regret was a bitter and unwelcome friend.
She envied Levi, who’d been visiting home when the accident had happened. He’d been called to the scene and had exchanged last words with their father. Words of love.
Skye eased to a sitting position, knees outward, soles of her feet together. “I’m just wondering if all that might be driving this search, that’s all. Maybe you’re so intent on helping Benjamin get closure because you never got it with your parents.”
Molly’s eyes burned at Skye’s compassionate tone. At the words that clanged around inside her head like a gong. How did she do that?
Skye reached over and caught a falling tear. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Molly blinked. “No. You’re right. You’re absolutely right. And I hate it. I hate feeling like I ended things badly with them. And it’s too late to fix it.”
“I’m sorry you’re having so much regret. But your parents knew how much you loved them, Molly. It was a sudden loss. If you’d known it was your last chance you would’ve talked to them all day. But you didn’t know. You couldn’t have known. And you did have class that afternoon.”
“I know.” It was nothing she hadn’t told herself a million times already. “But if I’d just skipped that coffee run . . . I could’ve made time and I didn’t. I’ll always regret that.”
“They wouldn’t want you beating yourself up over this. You know they wouldn’t.”
Molly knuckled off a tear. “I know.”
“You have so many good memories with them. Try and focus on those. Not everyone gets to grow up with an all-American family, you know,” Skye said lightly.
“You’re right. I’m grateful for it. I just need to let my heart catch up with my head.”
“You’ll get there. Just be patient with yourself.”
“Do you think it’s stupid, that I’m going to all this trouble to find some stranger because of an old letter?”
“Not at all. It might even be very healing for you if . . .”
Molly knew exactly what her friend was thinking. “If we end up finding Benjamin, you mean. If he’s still alive.”
“Right.”
But if he wasn’t, Molly would feel that horrible loss all over again. That terri
ble unsettling feeling of leaving something forever open-ended. Unfinished. Incomplete.
Skye rose to her feet, going into the next pose. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You’re a good friend, Skye. Even if you do love to torture me with painful stretches.”
“All part of the job, girl. All part of the job.”
* * *
Friday, late afternoon, Adam stared out the inn’s library window, lost in thought. He’d made progress on his outline this week, partly because he’d only seen Molly as he’d come and gone. Partly because Jordan was constantly reminding him of that approaching deadline.
He needed the kick in the pants. It was too tempting to spend all his time looking for Benjamin. Finished for the day, he packed up his laptop and closed the case. He’d put in his hours. The weekend was here, and he was going to give his story a rest.
Something outside the window caught his eye. Molly, striding down the lawn in a pale-yellow flowy top, her dark hair fluttering behind her. The sunlight caught the strands and made them sparkle like copper.
A line of description came to him. He loved it when creativity struck. But he knew if he didn’t write it down, it would be forever lost. His laptop already shut down, he grabbed his pen, reached for the inn’s stationery pad, and began writing. One sentence turned into two, but he wasn’t satisfied with what he’d written. He ripped off the sheet, wadded it up, and tossed it into the trash can. He grabbed the pad and began again. Yes, this was better. A keeper. He finished the thought and reread it, tweaking it as he went.
When he was satisfied he tucked the sheet into the side of his laptop case with all his other notes. Once he’d drawn up a solid outline he’d figure out how all these random thoughts and pieces of dialogue fit together. Then he would begin writing the story.
But right now he needed to make a call. He pulled out his phone and tapped the buttons. While he waited for an answer he watched Molly. She’d pulled out the hose and was watering the flowers lining the walkway.
“Hey, honey,” his mom said on the other end of the line. “You picked a great time to call. I’m in the middle of cleaning out a closet and looking for an excuse to take a break.”
“Happy to be of help. How are you, Mom?”
“Oh, I’m just right as rain. It’s the same ol’ same ol’ around here. How’s Bluebell? Are you getting everything you need for your story?”
And then some. Adam tore his eyes from Molly. “Sure, it’s going great. Jordan came down last weekend for a visit.”
“Oh? Business or pleasure?”
“A little of both. He got me out on the lake at o’dark hundred hours.”
His mother laughed. “That Jordan. He’s good for you, I think.”
“He’s not good for my sleep cycle.”
“Well, we all need that one friend who pushes us out of our comfort zone.”
Molly began winding up the hose and tripped over it. She glanced around to make sure no one saw her almost face-plant into the petunias. Adam ducked from the window, a smile tugging his lips.
Molly disappeared from view while he and his mom chatted. When they’d exhausted all the usual topics he broached the main reason for his call: the lost letter. He told her that Lizzie had already passed, and filled her in on the search for Benjamin, telling her what efforts he’d already made to find the man.
“Well,” his mother said, “most of the people I’m trying to find are already long gone. But I’m a member of a few sites that might be helpful in finding current information. Let me look around a little and see what I can find.”
“That’d be great, Mom. Thanks.”
He heard the back door of the inn open. A moment later Molly hurried past the library, making a beeline toward the front of the house.
“You could always hire a private investigator,” his mother continued. “They can narrow it down to a list of possibilities, though a birth date or social security number would sure help. But that gets pricey.”
Money wasn’t an object. But he liked having this project with Molly. And as much as he wanted to locate Benjamin, finding him would mean the end of their search.
“We’re not in a hurry or anything, so don’t put your own projects on hold. Whenever you get around to it is fine.”
“We?”
He could hear chatter at the front desk, and the lilt of Molly’s voice as she welcomed guests.
“What?” he said.
“You said ‘we’ . . .”
“Oh, yes, the innkeeper, Molly. The one who found the letter. I’m assisting her with the project.”
“Is she young and single?” There was a hopeful note in his mother’s tone.
“It’s not like that, Mom. She’s just a friend.”
“So, yes to the young and single.”
“Mom.”
His mother laughed. “All right, all right. I’ll leave it alone. For now. The family is hoping you’ll come down for Labor Day weekend. What do you think? Could you clear your calendar for that?”
“This story’s due October first, Mom. I’ll probably be working weekends at that point.”
“Well, if you can’t make it back home maybe I can come see you one weekend over the summer. See Bluebell again and meet your friend Molly.”
He rubbed his temple. “Sure, Mom. That’d be great.”
“I’m just teasing you, honey. But I do miss you, and I’d love to visit Bluebell again.”
“Miss you too, Mom.” He heard Molly approaching before he saw her. She was showing guests around, her voice strong and pleasant.
“And this is our library . . .” She pushed the door open and caught sight of him on the phone and stopped. The older couple nearly plowed into her back.
Sorry! she mouthed.
His mom was midsentence, so he just winked at Molly. He turned toward the window and palmed his forehead. Since when did he wink at women?
His mother was still talking, about what he hadn’t a clue.
Molly had moved on with the guests, her voice growing quiet as she retreated down the hall.
“That sound all right to you?” his mom asked.
Try as he might, he couldn’t rewind her words in his head. “Um, sorry. I missed that.”
She laughed. “It’s not like you to be so unfocused, Adam. You must be plotting your story. I should let you get back to work.”
“I guess I am a little distracted.”
He took off his glasses and pinched his nose. Molly Bennett had gotten under his skin, and he couldn’t seem to get her out.
twenty-six
Molly went downstairs, then out back where she’d left the hose half wound. Her muscles were tight from her yoga session. She was going to hurt in the morning.
She stopped short when she spotted Levi finishing her task. “I was just coming to do that. Did you get that bed frame fixed?”
“Yeah, it’s good to go.”
Molly looked out over the calm lake where a lone sail drifted slowly over the water. She hoped to take out the boat later. She planned to float away until the inn was just a speck on the horizon, put down the anchor, and lose herself in a book. She might even get wild and crazy and leave her cell phone behind. Probably not.
She helped Levi drag the hose reel into place against the back of the house.
“Listen, I hate to ask,” he said, “but can you cover the desk for a while? I have a few calls I need to make, and they really can’t wait.”
“Everything all right?” He hadn’t mentioned any troubles in their first business meeting. Of course, she may have faded out a time or two. This might be why Grace had referred to the meeting as the Brain Drain.
“Yeah, no worries. Just some details I need to take care of and an ad proof for Carolina Country I need to approve ASAP. There’s a guest checking in early this afternoon, a couple. They should be arriving soon.”
“No problem. I got it.” She glanced wistfully at the lake as she headed into the house. The inn was
a team effort, she reminded herself, and Levi had covered for her more than once.
Molly made herself busy up front. The flowers on the stand were wilting, so she dumped them and made a note to pick up a fresh arrangement. She dusted the living room and went to the library to get the shelves next.
In the library she thought of the look on Adam’s face when she’d walked in on him with those guests. When he’d winked at her.
Her lips curved upward, and something pleasant stirred inside at the memory of it. Sure, he’d been on the phone. But winking was such an un-Adamlike thing to do. She couldn’t help but feel special.
The phone was ringing, so she made her way back to the front desk. She answered the caller’s questions and took a reservation for four at the end of the month. She put the reservation into the computer and finished the call.
She was in the living room fluffing the sofa pillows when she heard someone coming down the steps, and she straightened from her task.
“Hey, Adam.” She gave him a welcoming smile.
“Hello, Molly. It’s quiet around here today.”
“That it is. We have more guests checking in soon. Did you get a lot of work done this week? I’ve hardly seen you.”
“Sure did. But I’m officially taking a break for the weekend. I was actually thinking of taking the boat out this afternoon. Any chance it’s available?”
“Oh, I was just thinking—” She bit her lip. She could hardly invite herself along. Then she remembered the twisty thing with her lips and let it go. “Never mind. Let me check the reservations. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”
Adam gave her an inquisitive stare as he followed her to the front desk. “What was that look? Is there a problem with the boat?”
She shook her head as she opened the book. “No, no. It’s fine.”
“Does it have a dead battery?” There was a teasing note in his voice. “Is it running on empty? Does the hull have a gaping hole?”
She laughed. “Of course not. The boat’s in perfect shape—and available the rest of the day, in fact.”
Adam tilted his head as if remembering something. “Wait, isn’t today your day off? I didn’t mean to put you to work.”
Lake Season Page 15
