by Jenny Hale
“So how long before we begin to see an upswing in revenue?” she asked.
“I’d say, factoring in my investment, within a year or two after modifications are made and marketing is in place.”
“And how long will it take to make the changes?”
Charlie highlighted a column on his chart. “Well,” he said, “let’s look at Phase One.” He scrolled down. “I think to get the most bang for our buck, we’ll need to begin with an overhaul of the rooms. They’re chopped up. We need to take out walls and make them upscale suites with all new décor and updated features. Nowadays, people want to have the comfort of home, but they could get White Oaks’ accommodations in a regular hotel, which would be considerably cheaper than what your grandmother is currently charging. That’s why numbers have dwindled. People want more. We need to give them something better than what they can already get.”
“Many of the rooms are original to the first renovation of the main house,” Scarlett said, voicing the concerns she knew Gran would have. “Knocking down walls would be losing history.”
“We can be respectful of the house’s past—we want to be. But any time you make these kinds of changes, some of it will be lost. What you have to ask yourself is, ‘Are the elements you’ll be losing to renovations important enough to risk the inn’s future if you keep them?’ Most of the time, it’s worth it to let it go, because the end result will be so much better. My suggestion is to keep the historical appeal of the original structure only—otherwise you’ll drive yourself crazy.”
Scarlett digested this, knowing Gran would have difficulty parting with anything.
Cappy brought their drinks and set them on napkins. “Do y’all know what you want to eat?”
Scarlett ordered the first thing she saw on the menu, having not even taken a second to think about her food choices. Charlie seemed to do the same.
Not having a clue what Gran would say to this, she moved on. “What else would you change in Phase One?”
“We’d also add things like fine dining; we’d expand and upgrade to a restaurant-quality kitchen, and we’d have chefs brought in. The dining room that you all currently use for catered events will also be renovated to accommodate regular guests, and people from outside can come just for the restaurant, even if they aren’t staying the night. That will bring in revenue—and ambience—that you hadn’t had before, using very little of the budget to make the changeover. The sitting room at the back would also be renovated into a world-class gym, and we’d hire a couple of trainers, install a sauna… We’d expand along the back of the inn because we can get the square footage from the parking area at the rear.”
Her heart sank. This was going to be much more difficult than she thought. “That sitting room is my gran’s favorite space in the summers. All the windows give it such a gorgeous view—she won’t want to lose that.”
“I’ve already considered the view. When we renovate the rooms to suites, all of them will have oversized rear-facing windows that will give them that view.” He moved his drink so he could tap his computer, opening a second screen with a mock-up of the remodeled White Oaks. “The way it’s positioned now, it wraps around the mountain, with the available land at the rear of it on the eastern side currently used up by a parking lot and that one little outlook spot that you get in the sitting room. But if we open up the inn at the back with floor-to-ceiling windows in every suite…” He clicked a button with a mock-up of the new spaces. “Every visitor will wake up to that view.”
“What about Gran? Where will she get to see it?”
He offered a sympathetic look. “Scarlett, what’s more important to an inn—the manager’s view or the view of the occupants who are paying for it?”
“Could you go back to the whole picture?” she said, pointing to the laptop.
Charlie clicked back, showing the image of the original White Oaks.
She tapped the screen. “This is my gran’s room. The view from that window is also her favorite. Could we keep that view?”
“Yes, of course… Although the grounds in the view might change.”
Her stomach felt like it was full of lead. “She’s not going to go for all this, Charlie,” Scarlett said, unable to hide her disappointment.
“It’s tough all around—I know it has to be difficult for her. But if she wants to compete with her competitors, you’ll have to convince her to give a little.”
That was easier said than done.
“I see what you’re doing here,” Gran said calmly to Charlie, as they sat in the sitting room that would be a gym if Charlie had his way. “I fear you’re using the tactic that built your reputation: make money at any cost.”
Charlie visibly flinched, and Scarlett leaned closer to him protectively.
“You’re misinterpreting my intentions,” he said, regaining composure. “I want to have a conversation about what you love about White Oaks—what you just can’t bear to part with—so that you feel comfortable with the renovations. But in order to bring in the large numbers that I’m projecting, you have to give up some things as well. In the hotel industry, it’s all about forward movement and giving people that next thing that they haven’t had yet to bring them to your door.”
“Look at this furniture you’ve put into the suites,” Gran said with a grimace. “It isn’t representative of White Oaks at all.” Gran’s frustration came through in her words. “It’s far too modern.”
Charlie nodded, listening, taking in everything Gran was saying. “If you have a vision for what you’d like instead, then we could take a look at other options once we finalize the actual budget.”
“What’s wrong with the furniture that’s in there now? It’s quaint.”
“It won’t hold up with the level of traffic this place is going to have. And it’s a bit outdated.”
“Outdated? It’s perfectly in line with the atmosphere at White Oaks.”
“Right,” he said, “but White Oaks is about to change its atmosphere. It will maintain its elegance, but within a twenty-first-century framework. Old meets new.”
Suddenly, Gran’s frustration gave way to tears, her eyes glistening. She wrung her hands, her brows pulling down with her frown. “This is all too much,” she said before clearing her throat. “It isn’t what I want at all, or what my husband and I envisioned when we bought it. I might as well sell it.” She stood up. “Do you want it, Charlie? If you do, then just take it. I can’t be a part of this.” She walked over to the wall of windows and looked out at the snowy landscape.
Charlie eyed Scarlett helplessly. She got up and walked over to Gran. The bright light reflecting into the room off the snow outside made her grandmother appear even more tired than she was.
“We’re proposing some pretty drastic modifications, and I know that it’s a lot of change all at once. I also know that you haven’t been thrilled with any of this, but you have to relax into the change.” She put her hand on Gran’s shoulder. “Remember when you had Pappy bulldoze all the brush to get the flower garden back to its original state? It was a massive undertaking and he told you that you were crazy. He didn’t think it would turn out well at all, but he trusted your idea.”
Gran turned toward her, considering.
“Charlie just wants a bigger garden, that’s all.”
Gran looked back out the window.
“Charlie’s here to listen, Gran. Don’t be intimidated by all these changes. We’ll take them a little at a time, and you can talk to Charlie all the way through it.”
“What if he ruins my inn and we still lose money when he’s done?” Gran worried.
“I won’t let that happen,” Charlie said from the sofa behind them.
Gran went back over to him and he stood up to face to her.
“We’ll go through each item,” he said. “You tell me your honest opinion. And then I’ll tell you mine. But in the end, it’s going to take trust on both our parts to get this done the best way. If you’ll work with me, I th
ink you’ll be very surprised at what I can deliver.”
Gran stood silently for a long pause. Then she finally spoke. “I think we need to get Beth, Blue, and Joe in here, and Janie can come too,” she said. “I want their opinions. We have to all be on board.”
Gran wasn’t saying no. It was a start.
Twenty-Two
“Where’s Blue?” Gran asked Joe, after they’d gathered in the sitting room with Charlie.
“He ran into town to get a load of firewood. We’re running low.”
“All right then,” Gran said. “We’ll wait for him.”
Just as she said that, there was a pop and the lights went out, plunging them into the gray light of dusk.
“What’s happened?” Joe asked.
At first, Scarlett worried that the electric bill hadn’t been paid, but then she wondered if the storm had knocked out the electricity. “Could ice have broken the power lines?”
“I’ll call Cappy and see if the lights are on in town,” Joe said, pulling out his phone. He dialed the number and put it to his ear. “We’re on the same power grid, so he’ll be out too.”
“I need to check on the guests,” Gran said, heading to the door with purpose. “Scarlett, keep your phone on so I can reach you if I need you, and light the candles in the main rooms. Beth, you and Janie take the front desk. Will Trevor be okay up there for a little while?” Janie nodded, taking Trevor’s hand. “Joe,” Gran continued, “can you get the generator going so we’ll have lights once the darkness hits?”
“It wasn’t working last time we tried it,” Joe said, clearly concerned.
“Great.” Gran huffed. “Have a look at it and see if you can get it working. Will someone text Blue to ask if he can get a whole truckload of wood? We’ll want to keep the fires going to preserve the heating while we work on the generator. We might have to pull the guests into the main rooms until power is restored.”
“How many guests do we have?” Beth asked.
Gran turned to Beth, her expression intense. “Fifteen.” Then she snapped her fingers. “Let’s go.”
Charlie followed Scarlett as she rushed through the main house to light candles. She opened a small drawer at the front desk and grabbed two packs of matches, tossing one to Charlie while walking to the living room.
She began lighting the candelabras on the mantle. While scratching the match on the side of the box to ignite it, she voiced her concern. “I wonder how long it will be before we get power again? With the terrain up here in the mountains, it could be a while.” The Christmas tree was dark, its shadowy presence illustrative of her mood.
“The generator’s not working?” Charlie questioned. “How come?”
“Gran did mention to my dad that it was on the fritz a while ago, but we had to manage where we put our funds, and there were more pressing needs. I wonder if that’s why she seems overly upset at times. She’s a great inn manager, but she’s limited by the lack of resources and personnel. If it had been up to Gran, the generator would’ve been fixed right when it had started acting up—my pappy would’ve been able to repair it—and we’d have power right now. I know she feels a sense of duty to the guests, and it puts more stress on her that she can’t provide them with the perfect mountain experience.”
Charlie’s stillness caused Scarlett to stop talking.
“What?” she asked, wondering why he was standing motionless, his gaze somewhere in the distance.
“The perfect mountain experience…” He looked around the room. “Your grandparents ran this themselves?”
“Yes, but they did have a small staff. Gran’s had to let some people go.”
“And your family pitches in?”
“Of course. We’re always there for each other.”
Thoughts were evident on his face, his forehead creased, his mouth turned down, his eyes darting around the room. “It’s about family…”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, turning around to face him with a candle in one hand and an unlit match in the other. He wasn’t making any sense at all.
“I can’t go through with the renovations—I’m so sorry,” he said, still clearly lost in his own thoughts. “That’s why your grandmother was in tears…”
Scarlett set the items she’d been holding down on a side table, freeing her hands, and walked over to Charlie, putting her face in his line of vision. “What. Are. You. Talking about? You’re speaking in riddles.”
“It just hit me. I can’t provide your grandmother with a plan that works because I don’t know a thing about family, and family is at the center of her world. That’s what she wants for the inn—a family feeling—and I can’t envision it for her. I can think up a great resort, but I can’t help you with this inn.” He shook his head. “You should find your grandmother someone who shares her vision. She’d be happier. I’m not your guy, Scarlett.”
“Yes, you are! Let her guide you,” Scarlett said. “You have the expertise and she has the family vision for White Oaks. I’ll get her to come around.”
He shook his head and gazed deeply into her eyes, and she knew that whatever he was about to say, he was going to mean it. He had her full attention. “Scarlett, I’ve wrecked my life and a lot of other people’s lives. I will not put myself in the position again where I am the cause of pain or sadness for another human being. Yet here I am, trying to convince your grandmother, while she’s in tears, that stripping her inn of what she loves is the right way to go. ‘Make money at any cost,’ she said. She’s exactly right. This instance is no different than what I used to do to people. I was just kinder about it this time around. I can’t be involved in this.” He ran his hand along his forehead, bewildered. “And I’ve already ruined things, because if I can’t take on the project, I can’t invest my money. Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Scarlett…” Charlie paced across the room, obviously upset with himself. “I’ll have to find another way to help your grandmother with the money…”
All the breath in Scarlett’s lungs left her, and she struggled to get enough air to speak. This couldn’t be how her last Christmas at White Oaks ended. She’d been so close to having a resolution, and she’d really felt it was the right one, but Charlie was causing her doubt. She had complete faith in Charlie. She didn’t trust anyone else to take over the inn. Not to mention that they’d have to sell it outright, which would mean no more Christmases in Silver Falls, no more summer holidays in the only place they had that was big enough to accommodate their entire family. Scarlett wanted to get married one day, have children… They’d never know the serenity and grandeur of White Oaks. They wouldn’t get to catch lightning bugs down by the stream or swim in the fresh mountain water. They’d never have Gran’s lemonade on the hottest day of the year or her apple cider on the coldest. Scarlett could feel the opportunity to hold on to all that literally slipping through her fingers.
“Charlie,” she said, still breathless. She counted to three and steadied herself. She didn’t want to appear desperate, but she had to get this off her chest. “Another buyer may not have our interests in mind. If you think you’re off base, it could be nothing compared to someone else’s vision. You’re allowing my gran a chance to keep the inn! Nobody else will provide that for her.”
“I don’t know what to give her, Scarlett,” he said, exasperated.
She moved closer to him and took his hands, looking up at him with no agenda other than to have complete transparency. “If you don’t want to invest in White Oaks, then that’s fine—it’s your money. But don’t allow the only thing stopping you to be the fact that you don’t have experience with being in a traditional family. We’ll work it out together,” she said. “That’s what being a family is. That’s really all it is.”
“You’re oversimplifying it.”
“You’re making too much of it. Family is about being there for the people we care about and showing each other every day how much we love one another. I am confident you can make the inn accommodating in that respect
, and I can help you along the way.”
“I know what to do to make accommodations successful for the masses, but if your grandmother wants something specifically matching her view of what family is and how they operate within the walls of this inn, I’ll come up short. There’s a difference between the two, Scarlett. I won’t do it. I’m just sorry I got your hopes up.” He pulled away from her gently, moving over to one of the candles next to the sofa and lighting it. “Let’s get these candles lit for your grandmother. It’s getting dark.”
“Beth got in touch with your dad.” Gran’s voice cut through the heaviness, as she came into the room with resolve, apparently unaware of the tension between Charlie and Scarlett. She seemed unruffled now, busy, in work-mode, clearly energized by her interactions with the guests.
Scarlett wished Charlie could see how great her grandmother was with the visitors at the inn. She stopped whatever she was doing to help them, talk with them—anything they needed. Sometimes, she’d make them a cup of coffee and just chat about the area’s history, her children growing up here, things to do… The guests called her by her first name, Georgia—she insisted on it. What with the weather and the holiday, along with the duties she’d had to assume after letting staff go, Gran hadn’t had much chance to show off how personable she was.
“He’s bringing more wood for all the fireplaces. We’ll need something to keep the guests busy, and to take their minds off of the power issue. Your Uncle Joe is getting the gas lanterns from the storage area and wiping them down. They’ll provide enough light.” She repositioned one of the candelabras on the mantle so it reflected off the mirror, sending a glow across the room. “We have two small solar power sources that Pappy used on fishing trips, but they don’t have enough to power to run a heater or anything. However, I’m going to get Joe to use one for the Christmas lights in here and another for the coffeepot. I told the guests we’d offer candlelight coffee at seven o’clock—that’s in fifteen minutes. Any chance we could get you to play piano, Charles?”
