Here's to Friends

by Melody Carlson

“Maybe, but I’m not sure how we’d go about finding them.”

  Abby held up her hands. “Well, all I can say is I tried, Marsha. Don’t come crying to me if you hire him and discover on down the line that he’s a total jerk.” Abby regretted this last bit, but there it was.

  Marsha smiled. “I’ll keep what you said in mind. And if you come across something really useful, let me know. Otherwise, I think my hands are fairly tied.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s time to resume our interviews.”

  Abby thanked her for listening, then left, but as she was going out, she ran into Glen Hawley. “Oh, hello,” he told her with a surprised expression.

  “Hello, Mr. Hawley,” she said crisply.

  He looked curiously at her, taking in her casual jeans and sweatshirt, as if trying to figure out why she’d be here at city hall.

  “Just visiting with a friend,” she told him with a fixed smile. “Have a good day.”

  “You, too,” he called as she continued on her way.

  Back at the inn she found Mrs. Hawley comfortably settled in the living room with a thick paperback. Abby went into the room, taking her time to check the water level of the fresh flowers and straightening a stack of magazines. “I saw your husband at city hall,” she said casually. “He must be doing more interviews this afternoon.”

  Mrs. Hawley smiled and nodded. “Yes. For a small town, they certainly do a lot of interviews.”

  Abby knew that the Hawleys came from a town about ten times as large as Clifden. “I’m surprised that you and your husband want to relocate to such a small town,” she said as she fluffed a pillow.

  “It’ll be something to get used to,” she admitted. “But so far I think it’s a charming town.”

  “I’d think there might be a reduction in salary, too,” Abby pointed out.

  “I don’t really know. Glen handles all that.” Mrs. Hawley smiled. “I just try to stay within the means of my household budget, and everyone is happy.”

  “It must be hard to leave your friends behind.” Abby hoped her fishing wasn’t too obvious.

  “Not as hard as you’d think.”

  “I’m such a hometown girl. I’d hate to leave my friends and my house and everything.” Abby shook her head. “You’re a brave woman.”

  “Oh, you get used to it after a while.”

  “So you’ve made moves like this before?” Abby tried to appear impressed. “I’ll bet you get really good at it then. I’ve only moved once, and it was incredibly difficult.”

  Mrs. Hawley talked about some of her packing techniques and tricks. “It’s a great way to keep from accumulating too much junk. I do a thorough clean-out every time we move.”

  Abby asked about other towns that they’d lived in, reacting as if their lives were truly remarkable. As Mrs. Hawley listed off places, Abby noted them in her head. Then she looked at her watch. “Oh, dear, I nearly forgot that I have an appointment,” she said. “Please excuse me.” Then she hurried out to her car and, pulling out a notebook, wrote down the names of the cities that she could remember.

  Once she got home, she did something that she knew could get her into trouble, but she just couldn’t help herself. She started calling up the various towns, saying in a roundabout way that she worked for the city of Clifden (and her rationale was that she was working for the city, just not getting paid for it, because she had the best interests of Clifden in mind). As she made inquiries about Glen Hawley’s previous employment history, she was pleased to find a few opinionated people who were willing to talk. Taking furious notes, she later condensed these into an interesting and informative document that she prepared to email to Marsha—but then she stopped herself. An email could come back to haunt her.

  Instead, she reminded herself of Janie’s counsel and simply made an anonymous copy and dropped it by Marsha’s office. What Marsha did with this information was up to her. At least Abby had tried. Maybe, if this whole inn-keeping idea didn’t work out, Abby would become a detective. She’d heard about some female private eyes who were quite successful. Remembering how she and Marley had cracked the case against Caroline, helping to prove their friend’s innocence in regard to the house fire, Abby thought perhaps she was getting rather good at this.

  Chapter 10

  Marley

  As hard as she tried, even getting up extra early to make more time in her day, Marley felt challenged to get back into her painting. By the end of the week, she had to finally acknowledge that her most creative time of the day had always been in the afternoon. It was just the way she was wired. Until this situation with Hunter was resolved, which seemed unlikely to happen soon, it would be hard to reclaim those hours. The only news from Jasmine came to Jack in the form of a brief email, as if taking off was completely acceptable and expected.

  “It’s like she’s blamed me for this,” Jack had told Marley on Wednesday night as they caught up in another one of their after-hours phone conversations. “Like if I’d been a crummy excuse of a grandpa, she never would’ve done this.”

  “Well, that’s just ridiculous.”

  “I emailed her back saying pretty much the same thing. Although I don’t expect to hear from her. Not for a while anyway.”

  “Did she say where she went?”

  “Just that it was sunny there, and that it was what she needed. Jasmine has always claimed to have seasonal affective disorder.”

  “SAD.” Marley sighed. “I can relate.”

  “Really?” Jack sounded slightly alarmed. “You suffer from that too?”

  “I’ve never really been officially diagnosed or treated, but living in the Seattle area for as long as I did, I think the gray skies took their toll on me.”

  “I’m afraid it won’t be much better here.”

  “It is, a little.” She paused, weighing her words. “Did I tell you that Thomas Hatfield assumed that I’d spent some time in the tropics? Like Tahiti or the Caribbean?”

  “No, really?”

  “You know, because of my paintings.”

  “Oh, yes. They do have that warm tropical feel. One would assume the artist had spent some time there. But you haven’t, have you?”

  “No, I’ve never lived in any of those places.” She sighed. “Although I’ve often dreamed of it.”

  “You’ve dreamed of it?”

  “Oh, sure, haven’t you? I mean who doesn’t dream of a sunny beach, palm trees swaying in the breeze, a warm ocean to swim in … doesn’t it sound lovely?”

  “I guess.”

  Somehow—maybe it was the serious tone of his voice—she thought he hadn’t really felt like that. And that made her wonder. Maybe she didn’t know Jack as well as she’d assumed. Or maybe Jack was just feeling stressed.

  He had seemed thrilled, initially, when she’d told him about selling all her paintings. But then, after she’d mentioned what Thomas had said about marking the prices up, Jack, like her, had seemed saddened. She wasn’t sure if he felt guilty for her sake, or regretful that he had missed out on a bigger profit margin. Oh, she would never say as much to him. The poor man already had his hands full with his runaway daughter and the responsibility of Hunter. Still, Marley couldn’t help but feel a little out of sorts.

  “You have no idea how excited I’m getting about our cruise,” Marley told Abby on Friday when they met for coffee. “I even plan to do some painting on board if I can find the time. Anyway, thank you so much for inviting me. It really gives me something to look forward to.”

  “Me, too.” Abby looked down at her mocha. “Although I’ve skipped out on the fitness club this week, so it’s doubtful that I’ll be getting into a swimsuit anytime soon.”

  “You and me both,” Marley told her. “But we can sport around in shorts and tank tops. Let Janie and Caroline squeeze into their string bikini
s if they like. I’m willing to accept that those days are long gone for me.”

  “Can you believe the kinds of things we used to wear?” Abby chuckled. “It was downright scandalous.”

  “It sure would be now—at least with my fifty-five-year-old body. Actually it’d be worse than scandalous. It would be disgusting.”

  “Sometimes I envy my mother’s generation,” Abby said sadly.

  “Why?”

  “They were allowed to grow old gracefully.”

  “And we’re not?”

  Abby shrugged. “Well, in some ways, we are. But there’s also this expectation that we should look younger and stay fitter like Caroline and Janie. You should see them at the fitness club. They fit right in with the thirtysomething crowd.”

  “Well, that’s because they’ve stayed fit. You can’t really fault them for that.”

  “I don’t fault them.” Abby frowned. “I guess I’m just jealous.”

  “I do understand wanting to grow old gracefully, though. I don’t want to give in to things like plastic surgery and all the rest of the Hollywood nonsense. Even though I can see more gray hair every day, I think I’d like to go with nature.”

  “Some people look good in gray hair.” Abby touched her own hair. “I still can’t decide which way to go. Caroline and Janie keep encouraging me to hide the gray, and I have to admit it was fun getting the highlights. My girls liked it too.”

  “You have to do what makes you happy, Abby. I’m not saying we should all just let ourselves go, that everyone over fifty should be gray and wrinkled. I’m saying that if we want to be gray and wrinkled and saggy and baggy and frumpy, then we shouldn’t let anyone guilt us out of it.”

  “You’re lucky,” Abby told her. “Jack’s so much older than you that you’ll always be young in comparison. Sometimes people assume that I’m older than Paul, which Paul thinks is hilarious, and then I want to smack him.”

  “I’m afraid having Hunter is going to prematurely age both Jack and me.”

  “Or else keep you young,” Abby suggested.

  “How so?” Marley was curious.

  “Well, I always feel younger when I’m with my granddaughter. A tired sort of younger maybe, but somehow seeing Lucy enjoy making cookies or sandcastles or seeing Mary Poppins for the first time … it’s like a new lease on life for me.” Abby sighed. “They’re coming for Christmas too. I’m going to let all my kids stay in the inn. It’s going to be wonderful.”

  “Sounds delightful. Speaking of the inn, have your cantankerous guests checked out yet?”

  Abby’s eyes got wide. “They left yesterday. I cannot believe what a relief it was to see the last of them. Oh, Mrs. Hawley was fine, but that Glen … he’s something else.”

  “Hopefully he won’t get hired by the city.”

  Abby gave her a sly grin. “I think he’s out of the running.”

  “Seriously?” Marley studied her. “Why’s that?”

  “Can I trust you?”

  Marley chuckled. “I’m a Linda.”

  “Yes.” Abby nodded. “Well, the truth is I did a little investigating of Mr. Hawley.”

  “No! You did?”

  “Uh-huh, and I turned up some rather interesting things. Things I doubted were included in his résumé or mentioned in his interviews. Things I thought the city needed to be aware of, so I made it aware.”

  “You didn’t.”

  Abby chuckled. “I most certainly did.”

  “What did you uncover about him?”

  “Mostly there seem to be a lot of unanswered questions, generally related to city finances and private contracts. But most interesting is how Glen almost always gets terminated, and always before his contract expires. Then he gets the city to give him a severance package, as well as sign a document with Glen’s lawyer not to slander his reputation, so legally they can’t say anything.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No. Can you believe it? It was so fun finding this all out. It reminded me of the time we did our detective work for Caroline. Remember how fun that was?”

  “It was kind of exciting.”

  “I decided that if running a B and B doesn’t get better, I might start my own detective agency. Maybe you’d like to work for me.”

  Marley laughed loudly. “Okay, if I can’t get myself back into the swing of painting, I might just take you up on that.”

  Abby waved her hand. “Oh, don’t be silly. Your painting is going too well to quit now. Honestly, if I had talent like yours, they wouldn’t be able to keep me away from my easel.”

  Marley explained how Hunter’s needs were carving into her painting time. “I feel so selfish for even saying that. I mean, poor Hunter has been dumped by her mother, and I’m moping around because I can’t seem to get into my creative groove.”

  “What would get you into your creative groove?”

  Marley considered this. “Probably having a whole day without interruptions. Actually, I could use several days like that.”

  “You have Hunter after school every day?”

  “Yes. I keep telling myself that it’s not that big of a deal, but it’s like I use up all my creative energy coming up with activities for her. Of course, she loves that. And she needs it.” Marley sighed. “It’s really a small price to pay for a child’s happiness.”

  “Caroline mentioned wanting to have Hunter come visit us at the inn,” Abby said. “At the time I was a little distracted with my, uh, guests. But I think it would be delightful to have a child around there. Why don’t you let Caroline and me give you a hand with Hunter?”

  “Really?” Marley wanted to hug Abby.

  “Sure. We can make Christmas cookies to put in the freezer and do some small sewing projects, or I can teach her to crochet. It’ll be great fun.”

  “That would be fantastic.” Marley paused to think. “How about if we start next week? I already promised Hunter I’d take her to the aquarium tomorrow. And I’d actually like to see it too. Then she and I will probably help Jack out at the gallery on Sunday. Also, there’s a Christmas craft fair in town.”

  “So Monday then?” Abby asked.

  “Monday would be perfect. If you’re sure you don’t mind. Hunter is actually really easy and quite mature for seven. Still, it’s a responsibility.”

  “I promise you, we’ll take good care of her.”

  “Of course! I know you will.”

  “Either Caroline or I will pick her up after school. Or else she could ride the school bus. It still goes right down the street.”

  As they discussed the details, Marley felt a mixture of relief and regret. On one hand, she knew she had to get back to work. On the other hand, it would be hard to give up being with Hunter. Even for just a few days. It troubled Marley to think she’d gotten so attached to the little girl. It was as if they were really becoming family. More than once, Hunter had asked if Marley was ever going to marry her grandpa. She’d even suggested that Marley could move in with them.

  “Grandpa’s house is bigger than yours,” she’d pointed out, and rightly so. “Why don’t you just live there with us? Then you wouldn’t have to drive so much.”

  Marley had laughed, then attempted to explain that she wouldn’t move in with Jack unless they got married.

  “But aren’t you Grandpa’s girlfriend?” Hunter persisted.

  “Well, yes. I suppose.”

  “So why don’t you just live with him?”

  Marley tried to think of an explanation suitable for a seven-year-old.

  “My mom’s boyfriends lived with us before,” Hunter continued. “And they weren’t married.”

  “Well, I would prefer to be married.”

  “Then why don’t you and Grandpa just get married?” Hunter had pressed.
>
  To that, Marley had simply changed the subject by mentioning how much she wanted to see the aquarium. Naturally, Hunter had gone for the bait, and they were instantly talking about stingrays and dolphins and sharks. But even after Marley had dropped Hunter off, the young girl’s words continued to echo through Marley’s head.

  Why don’t you and Grandpa just get married? As much as Marley cared about Jack, perhaps even loved him, she wondered how she’d actually respond if he popped the question. Mostly she hoped that he wouldn’t. Not yet anyway. She knew she wasn’t ready to go there, and she hated the idea of having to turn him down. Perhaps he even felt the same way. He was a sensible man. He probably knew that, at least for the time being, they should not consider it. Really, they both had enough on their hands, trying to figure out how to run their lives as well as to care for Hunter. They just needed more time.

  Chapter 11

  Janie

  Janie was surprised at the progress that had been made in Caroline’s house. In less than two weeks, the whole place had been gutted, the rough plumbing and electrical was nearly finished, and the drywall was starting to go up.

  “This is looking fantastic,” she told Caroline on Saturday. “At this rate you might be in here by Christmas.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Paul said as he came in from where he’d been checking on something in the master bathroom. “It’s the finish work that slows everything down.”

  “Well, anyway, it looks great. And I think it’s nice you’re helping Caroline out.” Janie made a face at him. “Even if you did refuse to help me.”

  He just laughed. “Hey, it’s all about timing. I was too busy when you needed help. But December is slow. Slower than usual even.”

  “Lucky for you,” Janie told Caroline.

  Caroline just made what seemed a stiff smile. “Uh-huh.”

  “Okay, ladies.” Paul nodded briskly. “I’ll let you get back to your sewing circle.”

  Janie laughed. “Yeah, right.”

  “See you later, Paul,” Caroline called out as he left. She went over to the door, as if to be sure it was closed, then turned to Janie. “I have a problem,” she said in a serious tone.