Forever, Plus One

by Sophie Love

  “Yeah,” Bryony confirmed. “Lois is dealing with it now. A couple of people turned up who we had to turn away, but the rest are for later in the year so it’s just a case of calling them to cancel and arrange the refunds. Which I’ve volunteered to do because it was my error. Hence being on reception.”

  Emily rubbed her exhausted eyes. This was the last thing she needed. In the seat behind her, she could hear Chantelle complaining of being hungry. Ahead of her was nothing but a row of red brake lights, stretching as far as the eye could see. So much for holding onto her holiday relaxation.

  “Okay. Well, look, we’re running late because of the traffic. So can you and Lois just sort this out before I get back? I can’t be dealing with this right now.” She hung up and looked at Daniel. “You heard that, right?”

  “Yeah. But how did that even happen?”

  “A website glitch,” Emily explained, not bothering to go into too much detail.

  The drive home took forever. By the time they turned into the driveway of the inn, everyone was in as equally foul a mood as the other.

  The parking lot was full—Emily remembered there was a wedding reception booked in the ballroom that evening—so Daniel parked the pickup truck round the back. They got their suitcases out, and Emily realized with wry amusement that they looked like very grumpy guests arriving for a vacation none of them wanted.

  They went inside. A few drunken wedding guests were milling about in the hallway, one or two smoking cigarettes out of the open French doors in the lounge. Discarded wine glasses were all over the place from people who’d been passing through.

  “Please, no smoking inside,” Emily told them.

  They guiltily stubbed out their cigarettes.

  She found Lois on the reception desk. When Lois looked up and saw Emily she tried to smile brightly, but Emily could see straight through it.

  Lois opened her mouth to speak but Emily held up a hand to stop her.

  “I spoke to Bryony,” she said. “So I already know. And I’m too tired to deal with it right now so please just tell me it’s all sorted.”

  “It’s all sorted,” Lois said. “Only the double booking isn’t the only problem.”

  Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She looked at Daniel quickly. “Can you get Chantelle some dinner, please?” He nodded, then as soon as they were gone, she turned back to the matter at hand. Bracing herself, she asked, “Okay. What is it?”

  Lois took a deep breath as though she was about to launch into a very long story. “The catering company for the wedding party has been stuck in traffic all day. So the bride has no food or drink and she’s kinda hysterical. I was going to open up the speakeasy but Alec can’t do a shift tonight so I’ve just taken all the wine and liquor from there and put it in the ballroom.”

  Emily grimaced. It would be at huge cost to them but at least Lois had found a solution. “What about Parker and Matthew? Can they make up some finger foods?”

  “They’re both busy doing the dinner shift.”

  Emily grabbed the phone and sent a mass text out to her friends. SOS. I have a hysterical bride and no caterers. If anyone can spare an hour making hors d’oeurves I will be eternally grateful.

  Then she looked back up at Lois. “Okay, I’ve put out a call for help. Now where’s the bride?”

  “Last time I saw her she was wandering the grounds crying. She won’t talk to anyone, not even the groom.”

  Emily nodded. She was in full-on problem-solving mode. She went outside and walked the length of the lawns, searching for the bride. She found her, finally, right down at the end of the yard by the rose bushes, weeping bitterly. The bottom of her beautiful lace gown was stained with mud.

  Emily introduced herself. “I’m the manager here,” she explained. “I hear things aren’t going according to plan today.”

  The bride looked inconsolable. “The traffic’s held up my food and half my guests!” she wailed. “There was supposed to be a jazz band playing but most of them are sick and didn’t turn up.”

  Emily thought of Owen’s band. They’d become a staple of the inn now, and played most weekends. If wedding parties wanted them for the reception they could be included in the hire fee for the ballroom at a discounted price. She would have to get to the bottom of that.

  “I’m going to solve this,” Emily told her.

  She went back inside and called Serena.

  “Is Owen sick?” she asked her friend.

  “Food poisoning,” Serena confirmed. “I’ve got it too. We were all out last night and must have had something bad. I’m sorry, Lois called earlier frantic for some help but I can’t even get out of bed.”

  Emily finished the call with Serena, exasperated, unsure how to resolve the situation. They could set up a laptop and connect it to the speakers, but the wedding was supposed to have live music and it wouldn’t be quite the same. She wondered then if she could call on Roman. He was supposed to be a friend, maybe he’d be willing to help her out of a sticky situation? She dialed his number.

  “Do you think you could do a surprise gig tonight?” she asked. “Only an hour. I have a weeping bride expecting live music but only the double bass player and drummer are well enough to perform.”

  Roman seemed to see the humor in the situation. “I’ll do it,” he laughed.

  “Really?” Emily asked, amazed. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m part of the community now,” Roman replied. “I want to do my part. I’ll be right over.”

  Emily sighed with relief. All would be forgiven when none other than Roman Westbrook arrived to perform at the reception! Even having a laptop play music for the rest of the evening would be more readily tolerated.

  With that ticked off the list, Emily checked her phone to see whether anyone had replied to her appeal. There was a message from Karen saying she’d just baked a batch of cheese straws and was on her way over with them. Cynthia had also replied saying she and her son, Jeremy, were in the area anyway on a bike ride and were happy to stop by and help. Before she had a chance to hit reply and thank them, she heard the sound of car doors slamming outside. She went and looked out and saw Raj and Sunita coming out of their car.

  “We got your message,” Sunita said, trotting up the steps toward her. “How can we help?”

  Emily hugged them both in turn. “Can you head into the kitchen? See what we have that could be made into a buffet?”

  They nodded and hurried off inside. Just then, she saw Cynthia and Jeremy riding along the driveway. Emily sighed with relief. People had responded to her so quickly and she was beyond grateful. She guided them to the kitchen also. Then finally Karen arrived with her baskets of breadsticks and cheese straws. Emily went into the kitchen with her to see how things were going.

  Inside, the room was in utter chaos. Matthew and Parker were rushed off their feet trying to make all the meals for the dinner shift of a fully booked inn. Marnie was running around with plates. Daniel and Chantelle were nowhere to be seen, and Emily assumed that the moment Daniel had caught sight of the chaos he’d whisked Chantelle away without dinner. Wonderful. She’d have a hungry, grumpy child on her hands once all of this was resolved.

  Sunita, Raj, Jeremy, and Cynthia were busy toasting bagels, cutting them into bite-sized pieces and slathering them with cream cheese and smoked salmon.

  “I’ll roast these potatoes and fill them with cheese and chives,” Karen said, grabbing produce from the fridge.

  It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. Emily helped prepare the food with them, then they tried to make it look as presentable as possible by putting it on silver trays. They carried them through to the ballroom, setting the food up on the empty banquet tables.

  Inside the ballroom, Emily could see why the bride was so unhappy. It wasn’t even half full. The drummer and double bass player from the band were improvising music on the corner stage, but no one was dancing.

  Emily felt so bad for the bride. This was supposed to b
e her perfect day. She thought of her own wonderful wedding and vowed to do all she could to make it up to her. But it was so overwhelming. She felt as if everything at the inn had fallen apart in her absence.

  At least the guests seemed grateful that there was now food. As they came over to get some, Roman walked in.

  “Thank God you’re here,” Emily said to him.

  He tipped his fedora and then leapt onto the stage with his characteristic swagger. Guests began gasping as they realized who it was standing there.

  Roman repositioned the microphone next to the piano where Owen usually sat. He conferred with the other two band members, then counted to three, and they began to play a poppy jazz number, a real toe tapper. Thankfully, people began to dance.

  The bride must have been able to hear the music from the lawns because she emerged into the ballroom moments later. At the sight of her guests dancing, plates of food in their hands, a small smile spread to her lips. Then when she saw Roman Westbrook singing and playing piano on the stage her mouth dropped open. She looked at Emily, flabbergasted.

  “I hope this goes some way in making up for things,” Emily said to her.

  The bride was too stunned to speak. She just nodded. The groom came over and took her by the hand, leading her to the dance floor to finally begin the party.

  Emily sighed with relief and ushered her friends out of the room.

  “Thanks so much, guys,” she told them all. “You’re actual life savers.”

  But before she had a chance to wish them all goodbye, she heard a ruckus coming from the dining room. She peered inside just in time to see Marnie burst into tears. The girl came flying out of the room.

  Emily stopped her in her tracks, taking her by the shoulders. All around, her friends looked concerned for her.

  “What happened?” Emily asked.

  “It’s that Professor Vaughn!” Marnie wailed. “He booked the carriage house for a fortnight. He’s only been here for three days but all he does it complain. I can’t stand it anymore. He’s so rude.”

  Emily remembered the carriage house being booked by the mysterious Mr. X. It had turned out to be a professor, not the Bond villain she’d jokingly hypothesized at the time. Although by the way Marnie was carrying on, it sounded like he was a villain of sorts.

  “Let me handle him,” Emily said. “You go and take a minute to compose yourself, okay?”

  Marnie scurried off and Emily went into the dining room. Mr. X, aka Professor Vaughn, was immediately recognizable. He had a large, angry red face and his table was in disarray, half eaten dishes discarded and left haphazardly all over it. He had guests with him, other fuming arrogant professor types. All around them, the other diners were giving them the side eye. Emily used her most calm, professional voice.

  “Professor Vaughn?” she asked.

  He frowned at her. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m the manager,” she said. “I understand things aren’t to your satisfaction this evening.”

  “The soup is cold,” he complained.

  Emily kept her face neutral. “It’s gazpacho soup,” she explained. “It is traditionally served chilled.”

  “I don’t give two hoots about your tradition,” Professor Vaughn barked. “Can’t you see I’m entertaining academics? We want our food hot. And we want our drinks. We’ve been waiting ages.”

  “What drinks did you order?” Emily asked, remaining as neutral as ever. “I’ll see if I can get them sent out immediately.”

  “Wine,” Professor Vaughn replied shortly.

  Emily breathed deeply and left the dining room. No wonder Marnie was so upset. If he’d behaved that way for three days over everything she’d be close to tears as well.

  She went into the kitchen. “Does anyone know what happened to Professor Vaughn’s wine?” she asked.

  “Lois had to divert all the wine to the wedding party,” Matthew explained. “We told him there was no wine but he wouldn’t accept it.”

  Emily chewed her lip. Just then, she heard the sound of a van coming around to park at the back of the inn. She looked out and to her relief saw the wedding party’s catering van had finally arrived.

  The men started bringing crates into the already crowded kitchen. It was all hands on deck to get the food onto plates and out into the ballroom. Raj hurried out of the room with his arms filled with wine bottles. From the open crate, Emily grabbed some bottles. She carried them into the dining room and presented one to Professor Vaughn.

  “What did I say to that silly little waitress?” he barked to the other academics. “I knew there had to be wine somewhere. She obviously wasn’t looking hard enough.”

  Swallowing her irritation, Emily went to the other tables of diners. She put the other bottles of wine upon them.

  “These are on the house,” she said under her breath so Professor Vaughn couldn’t hear. “An apology for the unsavory company you’ve all been subjected to.” She smiled sweetly.

  The other diners seemed quite pleased with their free wine. Emily also turned some music on in the room so that his loud conversation wasn’t quite so apparent for everyone.

  Satisfied the situation had finally been resolved, Emily finished helping the caterers for the wedding. Then she bade farewell to her friends, thanking them profusely for all their help. Thanks to them, they had narrowly averted disaster.

  Weary, her head pounding, Emily went upstairs to find Daniel. He wasn’t in their room, so she checked Chantelle’s. Again, it was empty.

  Confused, she decided to look in the nursery. To her surprise, she found them both inside. But rather than the half decorated, sparsely furnished room it had been before the vacation, some items had been delivered in their absence, including a toy box and a collection of books. And they were all now strewn about the room. In the middle of it all, Chantelle was weeping bitterly.

  Daniel looked up at Emily, his eyes filled with apologies.

  “She’s been tantruming this whole time?” Emily asked, exasperated.

  Daniel just nodded. “I think it’s almost run its course.”

  Emily sunk into the nursing chair that Amy had bought her. She was so tired she could easily fall asleep, but Chantelle’s bitter tears were too loud. Daniel shuffled over and rested his head on her knees. She stroked his hair tenderly.

  “Chantelle,” Emily said, gazing up at the ceiling. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Why did you trash the baby’s things?”

  “Because I hate her!” Chantelle roared.

  Emily knew she didn’t mean it. She was having a meltdown over Roy. It was all bubbling up now and she was taking it out on the baby.

  “I hate that she gets a nice room and books and toys!” Chantelle screeched again. “And I hate that she gets you as her mommy when I had to have Sheila. It’s not fair!”

  Seeing her raw pain hurt Emily. She wished she could take it away but all she could do was support Chantelle through these moments.

  “You’re right,” she said. “It’s not fair.”

  Chantelle stopped and looked up, surprised.

  “But blaming the baby won’t help. What will help is talking, and crying if you need to, and snuggling up in bed with me and Daddy and watching movies, drawing pictures, then talking some more.” She stood and held her hand out to Chantelle. “I don’t know about you, but watching movies in bed is way more fun than lying on the floor surrounded by mess.”

  Chantelle ignored the hand that was extended to her, but she did get up off the floor and waltz out of the room. Emily watched as she stomped along the corridor and into the master bedroom.

  Daniel let out a deep sigh. “You can work miracles with that girl,” he said.

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’ve just set us up for an entire evening of tantrums.”

  He stood and helped her out of the stool. Arm in arm, they walked into the master bedroom to see just what Chantelle had in store for them that night.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  The next mor
ning, over breakfast, Emily checked her calendar and saw that she had an appointment scheduled with Doctor Arkwright that she had completely forgotten about. It had been booked long before the last-minute vacation to England and had slipped her mind entirely. An appointment after a long flight, a crazy evening of work, jet lag, and a poor night’s sleep in the company of a grumpy child wasn’t exactly ideal.

  “I’m sorry it’s such short notice,” Emily said to Daniel. “You’ll be able to get the time off work though?”

  He looked less than pleased, and rubbed the frown line between his eyebrows with exasperation. “There’s so much to catch up on, what with Jack being off injured. I’m overseeing the whole thing now. They need me onsite.”

  Emily felt crushed. “I thought you wanted to come to every appointment,” she said, dejected.

  “And I do,” Daniel said, his tone slightly snappy. “I’m not working this hard out of choice. If I could I’d prioritize the baby.”

  Emily narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t help but feel as though he were taking a swipe at her for laying too much work on his shoulders.

  “What do you mean by that?” she asked.

  Daniel sighed and stood from the table, taking his empty coffee mug with him. He dumped it in the sink. “I just mean I’m busy right now. That’s all. But I will get the time off. You know I will. I always do.”

  Emily watched, exasperated, as he left the room. While she appreciated that he was extra busy with the renovation work now that Jack was injured, his attitude left a lot to be desired. It certainly didn’t help her sense of anxiety over what Daniel truly felt about the baby. What was worse was the way she’d had a premonition about this, that once the vacation was over and they returned to their normal life Daniel would go back to acting stressed whenever she brought up the baby.

  Sadly, she ate her toast, sitting alone at the kitchen table. She wished her father was here. Even her mother would do right now, just to alleviate the loneliness Daniel’s dramatic exit had stirred in her. It was too early in the morning to call Roy; it would still be nighttime in England. She scrolled down her list of contacts to her mom’s. She stared at it for a while, before sighing and putting her phone away. Now wasn’t the time to speak to Patricia. But then again, Emily thought, when would be? Her mom still didn’t know she was going to be a grandmother. The thought of telling her caused anxiety to swirl in her stomach. As if in response, she felt the familiar butterfly sensation of Baby Charlotte.