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[Madrona Island 04.0] Madrona Island B&B

Page 2

by Andrea Hurst


  “I am so happy for you,” Maggie said, embracing them both in a hug. The gratitude and joy in their eyes assured her she’d made the right decision inviting them.

  “We can’t thank you enough,” Cynthia said. “Every year we knew that coming here would renew our spirits and our hope.”

  Maggie motioned for Ian to take their bags. “Go get settled and I’ll see you soon.”

  Her final guests were a newly married couple. For a few years, Melissa had been coming alone to escape her busy job and her loneliness as a single woman approaching fifty years old. Maggie had offered all the comfort she could to Melissa, and now she could happily offer her the Honeymoon Suite, with a wood-burning fireplace and turret view overlooking Puget Sound. At last, Melissa had found the man of her dreams and Maggie was excited to meet him.

  Flushed and smiling, Melissa hurried down the path toward Maggie, towing by the hand a tall, silver-haired man.

  “Here he is,” she said. “This is my husband, William.”

  From his warm handshake and kind words, Maggie could tell immediately that Melissa had found a true gentleman. Melissa looked expectantly at Maggie.

  “You two make a beautiful couple and couldn’t be better matched,” Maggie said.

  Melissa’s eyes shone bright in a way Maggie had never seen them. “And now we have our final blessing,” she said, “and the most perfect place for our honeymoon stay.”

  “Thank you for this gift,” William said. “I have heard so many wonderful things about you and this special place.”

  All the rooms for the weekend were gifted to her guests. No charge for their stay. This was her way of giving back for the years of love and success she had enjoyed as the owner and innkeeper at Madrona Island B&B.

  “It is truly my pleasure,” she said.

  “And you haven’t even tried her stuffed lavender French toast yet,” Melissa said. “You are serving it, aren’t you?”

  “Of course,” Maggie said, “stuffed with cream cheese and fresh orange zest.”

  William patted his stomach. “This is going to be quite a weekend.”

  Ian approached. “Can I help you with your luggage?”

  “I think we’ve got that covered,” William said.

  “Well then, I’ll show you to your suite,” Ian said, leading the way.

  That was the last of her guests expected to arrive. Greeting each of them had been both exhausting and heartwarming. Maggie turned to walk back to the house and found John at her side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder for support and led her up to the porch swing.

  “How about a little rest before you go in?” he said.

  Maggie was happy to sit down and leaned back into the floral cushions. The swing rocked slowly, helping Maggie to let go of all the thoughts flashing through her mind.

  “How are you doing?” John asked.

  How was she doing? Sad, happy, a bit afraid. Grateful, most of all. “That is a hard question to answer,” Maggie said. “But with you here by my side, the answer is always better.”

  His face beamed, but Maggie could see the telltale signs of sorrow around his eyes. He was putting up a good front, but underneath she knew his heart was breaking.

  The rich aroma of freshly brewing coffee wafted out from her kitchen window.

  “Something smells delicious,” John said.

  “Mary must be busy in the kitchen helping Shirley get things ready for afternoon tea.”

  John nodded. “Sounds good to me. Shall we join them?” He stood and reached his hand out to help her up.

  “Sounds like a plan,” she said.

  ⌘

  John and Ian walked across the field from Maggie’s inn back to their farmhouse. Jason ran ahead, throwing a stick for Gretel and running to catch up with her. Oh, the energy of the young. John felt Ian’s arm loop around his shoulder and was glad for his grandson’s support.

  “I’ll be here all weekend,” Ian said, “so if Maggie needs anything, or if you do, just let me know.”

  John nodded a few times, letting the reality of the situation set in. “Thanks,” he said. “You go ahead back to your studio and get some painting done. Jason and I will work on cooking dinner.” He stood outside for a moment gathering his feelings.

  Once in the house, John was happy to see Jason and Gretel settled on the couch together watching a DVD.

  “Mind if I go take a little nap while you two watch?” John asked.

  “Go ahead, we’re fine. Grandpa, do you have any leftover cookies?”

  John gestured toward the kitchen. “They’re on the counter. But just one. Dinnertime is getting close.”

  The bed looked very inviting. John kicked off his shoes and crawled in. His head barely hit the pillow before he was asleep. After what seemed like a very long time, he woke to Gretel nudging him with her snout.

  “You hungry for dinner, girl?”

  Jason bounded in the room. “We both are. I could make us something,” he said with a grin. “Pizza?”

  John stretched and sat up in bed. “Come here, you two.” Gretel was happy to oblige and jumped in with him. Jason joined them for a group hug. “I love you two rascals,” John said. “Now, let’s go make some burgers.”

  “Yes,” Jason said. He sprang up, pulling Grandpa John with him. “And can we make fries?”

  “Why not?”

  John peeled potatoes at the sink and let his gaze wander across to Maggie’s house. On Sunday, the final guests would leave and they would all help her clean up. Perhaps he could bring her dinner tomorrow, or better yet, he’d surprise her with a dinner out at Island Thyme Café. He’d call Jude and make a reservation for the best window table for just the two of them.

  “Something smells good in here,” Ian said as he came in the back door.

  “Hamburgers and homemade fries,” Jason said.

  Ian was carrying a small painting with him and propped it up on the counter. “What do you think?”

  John’s resolve broke as the emotions rose in his chest. He muffled a sigh. “She’ll love that.”

  “I thought we three boys could make a little frame for it and give it to Maggie next weekend?”

  “I can help, too!”

  Ian mussed Jason’s hair. “That’s the idea.”

  The still-wet oil painting sat on the counter and John admired its perfection. Ian had an eye that missed nothing. Maggie’s wooden porch was framed by hanging baskets of flowers, the old farm door in the center flanked by a rocker on one side and the colorful pillowed porch swing on the other. Cuddled together with a knit shawl across their laps were Maggie and John. Her head rested on his shoulder and Gretel slept at their feet. It was a peaceful country scene with sunrays streaking through it, bringing highlights of glistening colors to life.

  “Maggie is going to love this,” John said.

  Ian smiled and hugged Jason to him. “We’re right here for you,” he said.

  “Thank you.” John shook off his sadness and turned to the task at hand. “Now, who’s ready for burgers?”

  ⌘

  Before she knew it, the weekend had sped by and Maggie was standing in her drive, waving goodbye to her last guests. “My last guests,” she whispered. The hustle and bustle all weekend had kept her going, but now it was over. A wave of grief flooded her, taking her breath away. She could hardly make herself turn around and go back inside. Instead, Maggie walked down to the bench at the edge of her property that faced out to sea. How many times had she sat right here? It was her special place to figure things out, say a prayer, and listen for guidance. The sunlit Olympic Mountains towering in the distance across the water never failed to impress her with their majesty. The waves trickled in, making their way up the sand as seagulls dove in and out looking for small fish.

  “Now what?” she asked, looking up at the sky. The answers always came if she was quiet and listened. Memories drifted by from almost fifty years ago, when she and her husband had bought this farmhouse and settled on Madrona
Island. John and his wife lived next door and were their best friends in the world. Everything was new and Maggie was pregnant with her son, Jerold. He’d been such a cute little boy, full of trouble even then, but how they’d loved him. Maybe too much. Or maybe some people just did not thrive no matter how much you loved them.

  Her heart clenched remembering the scenes with Jerold. When he was young, teachers constantly had to reprimand him, but Maggie was sure he would grow out of that. And then in high school, the drunk driving, house break-ins, and truancy from school. Jerold could never hold a job, and it was always someone else’s fault why. Then one day he’d brought home sweet, pregnant Katherine. Jerold was finally doing the right thing and marrying the darling girl. How Maggie’s hopes had soared, especially after precious Lily was born. At first there were temper bursts, the drinking escalated, valuables mysteriously disappeared from her home. It was not meant to be. Katherine and Lily hung on until Lily was a young girl and then…

  Maggie’s heart skipped a beat. The pain of that loss still stung like it was yesterday. But what could they do? There was Katherine with a black eye, her own money stolen, and Jerold abandoning them all for another woman. Of course Katherine ran, as far as she could get. And to keep Lily safe, they’d made an agreement to break all contact with Maggie as well.

  She rose and hurried down the beach, trying to bury her tears as her feet pounded the sand. The salty wind rushed through her hair. All these years, and now she had to find Katherine and make arrangements. There was no more time.

  The sun beat on her back and the caws of ravens echoed in her ears. She stumbled when everything began to spin and then his arms were around her.

  “Maggie, Maggie girl, I’m here,” John said.

  He took her into his arms and held her tight until her shaking subsided.

  She looked up into his warm blue eyes and wanted to never let go.

  “Let’s go home,” he said.

  Maggie nodded. She grasped his hand and they walked slowly up the beach, the water playing tag with their feet. She knew he wanted to scold her for going so far by herself, and she knew he never would. But she also knew he would always be there for her. Maggie wished she could offer the same in return for him.

  ⌘

  John arrived promptly at 6:00 p.m., a bouquet of flowers in his hand. She’d helped him plant his garden last spring and thrown a bunch of wildflower seeds across the fields. The results had brightened the property all summer, and a few stragglers were still blooming.

  “Don’t you look lovely,” he said.

  Maggie twirled around in her favorite floral dress. “Glad you like it. And you’re looking pretty dapper yourself.”

  John had on a fresh-pressed button down shirt in a pale blue that set off his eyes and white hair. He still made her heart pitter patter sometimes. Love was like that, and she’d been more than blessed to find it again so late in life.

  “Your carriage awaits,” John said, flashing his best smile.

  The drive to town was filled with light conversation, and Maggie was glad they were going on a normal date. She was determined to laugh and enjoy every minute of it.

  When they entered Island Thyme Café, Jude swooped over and hugged them both with her classic greeting. “Your table is all ready. Follow me.”

  Many tables were full, but the evening was relatively quiet. A few of the locals, in baseball hats and t-shirts, were at the bar drinking beer and watching something on TV. Outside the picture windows, the sun was dropping slowly in the sky to the west, casting bands of gold across the still waters of the cove.

  “Here you go,” Jude said. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  The corner booth was set with candles, flowers, and two sets of wine glasses. Maggie slid onto the seat. “Looks like they are going all out for us tonight,” she said. Madrona Island took care of its own, and Jude led the way.

  John reached over and took her hands in his. “Sunday is comfort food night. I hope you’re hungry.”

  Karen, their waitress, placed paper menus before each of them. She highlighted the specials of the night, emphasizing the creamy cheddar macaroni, crab, and cheese baked in a casserole dish and served with a fresh Caesar salad. “And I suggest the Woodward Canyon Chardonnay with that.”

  John rolled his eyes in delight. “Work for you, Maggie?”

  “Why not?” she said. She handed her menu to Karen.

  A few minutes later, Jude came over with the bottle and poured them both a taste of the glistening white wine. She held the bottle for them to see. “It’s a wine from the Columbia River Gorge,” she said, “award winning, orchard fruit undertones, and one of my favorites.”

  Maggie let the light flavors roll across her tongue. “Delicious. You certainly know how to pick a good grape.”

  “Lots of practice,” Jude said. “And I want to keep my customers happy.”

  “You’re a pro at that,” John said. “Look at this place, crowded even on a Sunday night.”

  Jude beamed. “It helps that the locals support the café all year long.”

  “I’d drive to the city just for your mochas,” Maggie said.

  “Not to mention your brownies, Maggie. They are the bestselling dessert I have. I wish you’d share that recipe someday.”

  Maggie paused for a minute to think about her side business, selling the brownies around the island and shipping them mail order too. How much longer would she be able to keep that up? Mary was a great help, but the baking was taxing. And she’d never shared the recipe with anyone, and probably never would. Unless it was with Lily. “I’ll try to whip some up this week,” she said.

  “Just let me know if you need any help and I’ll be right over.”

  Maggie laughed. “You just want to lick the batter spoon.”

  “You know me too well,” Jude said before hurrying off to greet other customers.

  “There is a real spring in her step lately. It’s good to see,” John said.

  “Her daughter Lindsey wrote recently and may come home for Christmas. Jude has her hopes up pretty high.” Maggie shook her head. “I hope that girl does not disappoint her mother again.”

  John groaned. “We’ll get Jude through no matter what.”

  Maggie looked deep into John’s eyes. “If…if I’m not here, you’ll watch over her, won’t you?”

  His breath seemed to catch in his throat. “Of course you’ll be here.”

  She wished he sounded more confident about that. But Maggie knew her color was waning and her clothes hung loosely around her frail body. John could not help but notice these things even though he would never say a word.

  The waitress brought over two steaming hot plates of the comfort food special.

  “Ahh. Is there a better smell than fresh pasta and cheese?” Maggie dug her fork into the gooey macaroni. “Salad will be dessert.”

  “You’re not getting off that easy,” John said. “Chocolate mousse is on the dessert menu too. We can share one.”

  Even as comforting as the food was, Maggie could feel John’s worry emanating off him.

  “You know,” he said, “no one would mind if you took it a little easy this week.”

  She gave him her best smile. “I will, I promise. But the best medicine is to keep my mind busy and enjoy the days.”

  “Well then. How about we take a drive out to the highway and go East toward the Cascades sometime this week? The leaves may have started changing up in the foothills and I know how much you enjoy the ride.”

  “I’d love that,” she said. “My schedule is wide open. But if you’re busy…”

  “Never too busy for you.”

  ⌘

  As wonderful as dinner had been with John the night before, Maggie found herself exhausted all the next day. Even taking a shower was starting to be an effort. Mary had arrived early to make coffee, prepare breakfast, and tidy things up for the week. The sound of the vacuum upstairs let Maggie know she was almost finished for the day. What
would she do without that woman? There were so many things that needed attending to. Perhaps a list would help. She went to her desk to hunt up some paper and a pen. Sitting open on the desk was the Inn’s last Guestbook. She had not been ready to read the guest comments from the last few months yet. Maggie thumbed back a few pages until her eyes fell on a new entry.

  Every wish was anticipated and every moment a pure joy to stay here. Only an angel could be so caring and hospitable, and you certainly have been ours. May all the blessings you’ve shared with others come back to your sweet heart.

  We love you. ~Tara & Bill

  Maggie took a deep breath and let the cherished words wash across her heart. How she would miss those two, and all the guests through the years who never failed to thank her. She turned the pages, letting each entry fill her with grace. The last one brought tears to her eyes.

  Maggie,

  Over the years, you have been my best friend and confidant. And now, and this last weekend, I want to be yours. Your words said nothing, but being a nurse, I know you are ill, my friend. So let me be there for you. Call me any time, and I will come running.

  Jean

  Maggie closed the book and let the tears roll down her cheeks. She would certainly call Jean when the time came. One thing for certain, her friends were the joy of her life. And Lily. She hoped she could find a way to share this joy with her granddaughter. She wiped her cheek and located a pad of paper and started listing everything she wanted to accomplish. It was overwhelming to see how much needed to be done before…before… She did not want to think about after.

  “Can I help with that?” Mary said.

  “Oh, I didn’t hear you.”

  “I didn’t want to disturb your concentration. Is it private?”

  “No, I’d love your help. Why don’t we go into the parlor, have some tea, and go over the list?”

  “You go ahead,” Mary said. “I’ll brew up some tea and meet you there.”

 

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