by Len Webster
“Change is inevitable. You have to let go and make mistakes and changes. You know your folks would always support you. You just have to try, Peyton. Not trying is never going to get you to move forward with your life. How long do you have till the next guest comes?”
Graham’s words burned through her heart.
Change is inevitable.
She didn’t want change. She never had. But change kept occurring. Slowly, change had happened around their town. Everyone had started to leave for the city and the inner suburbs. Change had caused too much heartache in her life. She eventually lost everyone she loved. But Graham—she wanted more for him. She knew that he loved the farm, but Peyton knew that he was destined for more.
“What about you, Graham? You should be working for a big marketing agency or something. Not on a farm!”
“I can’t leave the farm, Peyton,” he said strongly. It was almost like a warning for her to not continue.
“You’re a hypocrite. You know that, right? You can’t dish out life advice and not take it yourself.” Peyton got up off the couch and made her way towards the front desk, annoyed with him.
“Peyton!” Graham called out to her, the irritation in his voice clear.
Upon reaching the desk, Peyton picked up the file that contained reservations and looked at him. She frowned at the sad look in his eye. She was sure he believed that he had hurt her feelings, but it took more to hurt her deeply. She knew what real pain felt like. This was hardly a pinch.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I can’t stand here and tell you to make changes when I’m not willing to make them myself. I just think you deserve more than living in the shadow of your parents. Before the accident, you wanted more out of life. You wanted to travel, but now, you can’t even step past the town’s welcome sign. If this isn’t your dream, don’t settle for it. Not for the rest of your life. When the farm is settled enough, I’ll try the city, okay? I swear I’ll try.”
Peyton let out a sigh and placed the folder back on the desk, her fingers running over them. Two weeks until her first guest, the Swan’s—a young newlywed couple from the suburbs—arrived. And it was a month until the Reynolds’ wedding. In the space of a fortnight, Peyton would decide what her plans were for the hotel by the lake. Weddings at The Spencer-Dayle were what made money. Since it was an hour away from the city, most guests stayed overnight and enjoyed the town.
“I shouldn’t scold you, either. I’m no closer to leaving this place than you. I knew that I’d always have some connection to the hotel. That I would run it when I was older. I just didn’t think that I’d inherit it before high school graduation. For now, I’ll run it my parents’ way. I’ll figure out the rest as I go along. If I don’t run it, then Aunt Brenda and Uncle John will, and I don’t want them doing that.”
Graham approached the desk and leant on it, staring at her. He gave her an unsure smile before sighing.
“Who’d have thought that you and I would be taking on such responsibility at twenty-one? All our friends are partying it up and having real university experiences, being free. Sometimes I’m jealous that I didn’t follow…Krista and attend Deakin with her. Who knows what would have happened to us if I had,” Graham said. He looked down at his hands for a moment before looking up at Peyton.
After stepping around the desk, Peyton placed her hand on his arm and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe if you had just told her that you liked her, it’d be different.”
Graham let out an unconvincing laugh. “Wouldn’t have helped. She left for Jake. We all know that. And I’m stuck with you, remember?”
Part of being in a small town was that the choices in a romantic partner were always limited. In most cases, partners had chosen themselves before anyone had really made moves. It was just how it had been growing up.
Peyton offered Graham an understanding smile. She knew what it was like to be drawn to and love one person. And how, when they left, it was like nothing made sense, that they were your one true understanding of the world.
“You were too good for her anyway.”
“No,” Graham said with a sad gleam in his eye, “she was too good for me. Her daddy wouldn’t want a farmer dating his daughter.”
Peyton leant on the desk next to him. “Any father would be honoured to have their daughter date a guy like you, Graham. I know just what a guy you can be. You’re every father’s dream.”
When Graham fell silent, Peyton glanced up at him. His dimple deepened as he smiled. No doubt he was enjoying the compliment that she’d just given him. Then she slapped his arm and pushed off the desk.
“And any guy would be lucky to be yours, Peyton.”
Peyton turned away and stared out the window, the shimmer of the water catching her eye. For four years, she’d blamed herself. She’d done something wrong with him all those years ago. Maybe it had been too quick. Maybe he’d regretted being her first and the ‘I love you’ that had slipped from her lips. Their friendship had been ruined by one kiss that had led to the events of his leaving.
The sound of a phone had Peyton spinning. She saw Graham staring at his phone before he sighed and put it back into his pocket. His fingers combed his hair and then started to roll up the sleeves of his long shirt.
“That was the old man. I better get going, Peyton. I promised him that I’d go over the sprinkler system on the eastern part of the farm.” Graham walked over, pulled her in for a quick hug, and whispered, “You’re going to be a great owner of this place, Peyton. I believe in you. Always will,” before he kissed the top of her head.
By the time Peyton had settled in and opened the curtains to all of the rooms, it was just after lunch. The regular staff had been put on holiday leave by her aunt and uncle. They had made plans for this fortnight of the hotel’s closure for years.
Once she had graduated from high school, Peyton had decided that it was time she took the business for herself and applied for business school. Too afraid to leave Daylesford, she had taken online classes instead. Her bachelor was on display in her living room, above the fireplace. She’d been too afraid to leave town, so Graham and the hotel had hosted her small graduation ceremony and party. It was as close to the real ceremony as she could get. It was a day that she didn’t want her aunt and uncle to miss out on. They had made sacrifices for Peyton, and she was determined to never let them down.
Lifting the screen of her MacBook Air, Peyton pressed the power button. As her laptop powered on, she looked over the office that she was sitting in. It had been her father’s. The small, gold clock that her mother had given him for their wedding anniversary sat on the right-hand corner of the wooden desk, and a portrait of Peyton and her parents sat on the left. Reaching over, Peyton picked up the frame and stared at the three of them. She was eight when they had taken that photo by the lake. Her blue eyes mirrored her mother’s, but her light-brown hair mirrored her father’s.
A sadness filled her chest. Being an only child, she had been close to her parents. The moment that the police had told her of their passing, Peyton had felt the world fall beneath her. The pain had made her forget about the hurt that she’d felt when Callum had left town.
She placed the frame back in its original position and logged into her emails. A few business ones would have to be answered today, as well as some from previous guests. After minimising her screen, Peyton logged into her Facebook account and saw a tag notification from one of her best friends, Madilynne Woodside. Clicking on the notification, she tensed at the picture.
“Summer before year twelve! Miss this!”
She swallowed hard at the picture of her group of friends standing by the trees near the hotel and his arm around her waist as they smiled at the camera. Peyton blinked quickly at the picture. Three days later, they had made love under the stars, and then two days after that, he’d broken her heart.
Unable to help herself, Peyton read the comments to see that he had not made one. She hovered her cursor over his face before clickin
g to close her browser. Then she closed her laptop and took a deep breath in and then out.
He’s gone, Peyton. He left. You need to remember that.
“I really don’t want ‘work’ in my pub, Peyton.”
She set down the guest list for the Reynolds’ wedding to see a beer placed on her table. Three hours of going over the wedding plan and she’d been done. She knew one thing: weddings like this one were going to be charged more for such outrageous requirements. Deciding to take a break, Peyton had gone for a walk to go over the list in a new environment. That’s how she found herself sitting at a table in the Daylesford Pub. Squinting her eyes, she stared at the dark-coloured beer in front of her.
“Jay, you know I hate beer,” she stated and eyed him, his hand behind his back.
He stroked his short beard before setting another glass on the table. “Yeah, I know. The beer’s for me. The Coke’s for you. Don’t know why you come here if you hate beer. You offend and break my heart every time you walk through my door, Peyton.”
Jay sat in the seat next to her, and she reached over for her glass, taking a long sip. The twinkle in his warm, chocolate eyes had her rolling hers. It wasn’t that Jay was unattractive—it was the opposite. Any young female who stayed in Daylesford wanted in his bed. But he wasn’t the type to use women. He was the settle down type.
Jay was just like Peyton and Graham. He had stayed behind because his family owned the local pub. But, unlike them, Jay liked what he did. Ever since he had graduated from high school two years ahead of Peyton, he had strived to fulfil his role as pub owner.
Putting the glass down, Peyton returned to the Reynolds’ wedding list. When one had money, one lavished. And bride-to-be Marissa Reynolds had money—her parents’ money, to be exact.
“Ugh, she really chose our town to be the place for her wedding?” Jay asked with much disgust. He sat back in his chair and reached for his beer, almost drinking the entire glass in one pull.
Peyton’s eyebrows furrowed, and she tapped her finger on the table. “Don’t like Marissa?”
Jay’s lips parted and his brows met, bewildered by her question. “You do?”
“I’ve never met her or her fiancé. Aunt Brenda took the booking a few months ago while I was studying for exams. Should I be worried? Is she a bridezilla?”
She didn’t need an uncooperative bride. Peyton knew the importance of the day, but from past experience, the most challenging brides were the ones where money had absolutely no limits.
“She wanted to tear down my pub because it wasn’t an ideal backdrop for her wedding pictures. I bloody love the woman! What’s she got you doing? Putting fancy Japanese fish in the lake?” Jay set his now empty glass on the table and folded his arms over his chest.
“Just the guest list is substantial. I don’t think that I have the staff to cater for so many people. It’s meant to be a private wedding, but she’s got half of the Collingwood football team coming.” Peyton sighed and returned the papers back in the folder and then her folder in her bag.
“Be careful of them, Peyton. I see you near any of them footy boys and I won’t make any promises of not breaking their legs.”
Jay’s tense body had Peyton rolling her eyes.
“Don’t go all protective over me, Jay,” she said as she got out of her chair and picked up her bag. Her break from the hotel was already long stretched. She needed to return.
She looked down and met Jay’s concerned face.
He stared at her for a moment before he closed his eyes and sighed. “Someone has to be, Peyton.”
Before she was able to ask him what he meant, Peyton felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. When she pulled it out, she saw a new text message.
Marissa Reynolds: Peyton, since you are now dealing with the wedding and my fiancé doesn’t think your hotel is suitable, I will be sending him down tomorrow to have a look over it.
Peyton glared at the message and let her shoulders sag. “Bridezilla’s fiancé is coming tomorrow. I better get back and make sure the hotel’s of ‘suitable’ manner for their wedding. I’ll see you, Jay.”
Marissa Reynolds: Expect my fiancé at around one.
Peyton placed her phone back on the desk and her chin in the palm of her hand. The hotel was quiet—too quiet for her liking. She wished her aunt hadn’t sent all the staff on holidays; it would have been nice to spend her days with someone to talk to. A day alone in the hotel and she realised that there wasn’t anything physical or structural that she wanted to change about The Spencer-Dayle. Last night, she’d decided that it was the services the hotel provided that she could make her own. She just needed to figure out what those services could be.
Picking up the Reynolds’ file, Peyton read over the wedding plan for the fourth time today. She’d spent last night analysing it. Making sure that she made notes on potential issues the fiancé would have, and highlighting any problems she had so they could discuss them together. This wedding would provide enough income to last through the year without any other booking. It was the big one.
The sound of the bell rang, alerted Peyton to someone’s presence in the hotel. She looked over at the gold clock to see that it had only just ticked 12:21 p.m. She heard footsteps and then it went quiet for a moment before she heard a muffled voice. Upon getting up from the worn, leather desk chair, Peyton walked towards her office door and adjusted her high-waist skirt. With a deep breath, she palmed the handle and opened the door.
Peyton stepped out of her office and closed the door behind her. “I’m sorry, but The Spencer-Dayle is closed due to owner chan—”
She stopped when she looked over at the person standing by the front desk. She felt all breath leave her and her mouth fell open. Her eyes were wide in surprise as she took him in. He stood there with a careful smile on his face and his hands in his dress pants pockets.
“Hello, Peyton,” he said.
Blinking didn’t take away the image of him standing before her. Not possible. He couldn’t.
She stayed quiet as his posture tensed. He used to be so carefree. But now, he was dressed up like he was about to seal a merger with a careful, practised smile on his face. No sincerity to it, there for the sake of it. Glances were exchanged, but Peyton refused to speak, purely due to the fact that words were failing her.
His eyes ran down her body before he looked away and took in the hotel. It was different from how he would have remembered it. Just before her parents’ deaths, they had renovated The Spencer-Dayle, adding the old with the new, balancing it out until it was perfect. Little things had stayed, but most things had changed. Peyton followed his line of gaze until it stopped at a photo of the lake. A photo he had taken. For a moment, she watched a regretful smile develop until he shook his head and looked back at her. His smile faded just as quickly as she had blinked.
“It’s good to see you,” he said.
This time, he sounded like he meant it—which was a ridiculous concept for her to believe. He’d left. Not her. He could have come back but he hadn’t.
Peyton let out laugh of disbelief and shook her head, fighting the pain and heat that rose from her heart and up her throat. It was a pressure in her chest that she hadn’t felt in years. His eyebrows met and he looked offended by her reaction to him.
“I don’t know why you’re here, but if I were you, I’d leave. Right now,” Peyton warned before spinning on her heel and stalking back to her office door.
“Come on, Peyton. I’m early. I guess Marissa didn’t tell you that I’d be coming.”
Peyton stopped.
Marissa… The wedding…
The constricting pain of her heart, what it felt like, was something she had long forgotten. Her eyes prickled and she mentally cursed herself. Taking a deep breath in, she opened her office door. Once she’d closed it behind her, she leant against the door to stabilise her legs. Uncomfortable heat spread through her body. Emotions she hadn’t felt since before she’d turned eighteen. Since the moment she�
�d found out he was leaving.
Peyton let Marissa’s text message play through her mind.
Engaged.
For a moment, she was jealous. Marriage was a concept she could only be a stranger to. She watched weddings, but the thought of her own was something she couldn’t conjure. He was engaged, and that was her out. A line had now been drawn.
Peyton let that thought run loops around her head. This was her closure. He’d gotten what he’d wanted out of city life. Though her heart had always wanted a way back to him, it was her head that had told her to let go and move on. It had been easy to forget the pain of him when her parents had died. That pain had been worse. It had taken the life out of her. Only Graham and her aunt and uncle had brought her back to a world of living.
You’re acting unprofessional, Peyton. He means nothing in your life now.
With a firm nod, Peyton retrieved the file from her desk. She hadn’t connected the dots that it would be his wedding. But, then again, she only had Marissa Reynolds’ approved guest list, not the fiancé’s.
Peyton turned and walked to the door. She drew in another breath to calm her nerves and reminded herself that he was just a guest.
When she opened the door, she stepped out of her office to find him standing in front of the photograph of the lake. His eyes held a sad glance as he stared at it intently. It had been taken at the small hill just before the lake; the sky was purple and red and the water had sparkled. The memory of watching him take the photograph would always be burned in her memory. It was in that moment, when he’d been unaware that she was staring at him, that she had known she was in love with him.
She pushed that one good memory of them away and cleared her throat. The sad look remained in Callum’s eyes, but she ignored the way it pulled her in. The way he had always done so.
