“I’ll see you around, Iris,” he mumbled, grabbing his jacket from the hook by the door. Before I could say another word, he had gone.
Good fricking riddance, I thought, turning my attention back to the open ledger.
Chapter 6
My grandmother found me at the kitchen table early the next morning, nose buried in the lists and ledgers I had brought home from the café the day before.
“Iris!” She cried, placing a hand on her chest. “Good lord, what are you doing up already?”
I blinked up at her, feeling disorientated, my eyes blurry from staring at the notes and numbers for so long. “Couldn’t sleep,” I explained, rubbing my face. “Sorry, Mimi. Did I frighten you?”
She waved her hands as she walked to the coffee maker. “It’s not your fault. I’m just used to being the first one up.” She held up the half empty coffee pot, raising her eyebrows at me. “How long have you been out here?”
“I already fed Jasper,” I told her instead of answering, not wanting to tell her I stumbled downstairs before dawn. I had again been plagued by those ridiculous falling nightmares. I tossed and turned in bed for hours before I admitted defeat, pulling out the work I’d brought home to give myself something to do.
She poured herself a cup before walking to the table with the pot to refill my own mug. “Thanks,” I said gratefully. The last inch of coffee in my mug had long since gone cold.
“What’s all this?” she asked, sitting next to me and peering at the papers.
“I was going through the books at the café yesterday,” I told her, pushing the list I had been reading away. “They… aren’t in the best shape.”
She nodded, looking solemn. “I figured as much.” She let out a barely audible sigh. “It’s been hard to stay on top of things, what with your grandfather and all. Your cousin tries, but she has her own career, and math was never quite her…” She gave me a weak smile. “Anyhow. How hopeless is it?”
“It’s not hopeless,” I assured her quickly. “Nothing is missing, or anything like that. Your payments have all been made on time. You’re close to being in the black for the year, which is pretty impressive, considering.”
She frowned down at the books. “Then, uh, what’s the problem?”
“There are tons of inefficiencies here,” I said, pulling the list toward me again. “Look at these inventories, Mimi. You’re ordering way more than you need here and here.” I pointed as I talked, hearing my voice get more and more animated. I couldn’t help it. There wasn’t much I liked better than trying to force a messy situation into neat and tidy submission. “You really need to cut out this delivery on Wednesdays from Jerry’s farm and add that stock to your weekly big order from the mainland.”
“But, sweetheart, we’ve ordered eggs from Jerry every year since we opened.”
I struggled not to roll my eyes. “But it’s not good business, Mimi—”
She patted my hand. “Sweetie, it’s the way we do things. We want to support the other businesses on the island. It’s the right thing.”
“Not if it loses you money!”
Her eyes narrowed a little as she searched my face, like she was trying to read something there. “It’s not hurting us, Iris. You said yourself that we’re in the black already, before the season has even started.”
“Nearly in the black—”
“If we don’t support the businesses on the island, how will they be able to support their employees? And if they can’t support their employees, who do you think is going to be buying our coffee and sandwiches before the tourists come in?”
“Mimi, that’s a very nice sentiment and all—”
Her eyes flashed, and when she spoke again, there was a tightness to her voice. “A rising tide lifts all boats, Iris. That might seem like a quaint sentiment to you, but it’s a fact of life when you live on this island. We’re on our own out here. All we have is each other.”
I felt chastised. It was clear from her tone that she thought I was being condescending, not to mention unfeeling. And maybe that was true. But it was hard to wrap my mind around this mentality. No matter what these people said about community and relying on each other, at the end of the day, the only way you kept the lights on was by making good business decisions. I knew that better than anyone.
“I was just trying to help.”
Mimi brushed a strand of hair from my forehead, her soft palm smoothing over my skin as she went. It was instinct to close my eyes at her touch. It was so familiar, the feel of her work-worn but surprisingly soft and smooth skin against my temple. “I know, sweetheart. I appreciate it, I do. Your grandfather and I just do things a little differently, that’s all. And it’s important to us.” She looked down at the pile of papers. “All of that is beside the point. You came here to relax, Iris. Not wake up at the crack of dawn to work on my books.”
Her hand slipped from my forehead to my shoulder, and I leaned into her a little. “Numbers are relaxing for me.”
She laughed. “Are you sure you’re related to me?”
“Nice, Mimi.” But it was impossible not to smile when she laughed like that.
“I mean it, Iris. I forbid you to spend this entire trip working. I know that Posey can use your help until school gets out, but I’m not going to let you overdo it. You came here to heal, sweetheart.” She peered into my face, her brow wrinkling in concern. “I’m not sure exactly what led you here, Iris. But I have a feeling you could use some pampering.”
I blinked and looked away, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. Just like my grandmother to see through all my bullshit bravado. “You don’t have to talk to me about it,” she added softly. “Whatever it is. Of course, you can—I’d love to help you, Iris.”
“It’s not… I’m fine, Mimi. Like you said, I just need to relax a little.”
She watched me for a long moment. “Well. I’m here to talk if you ever want to. Okay?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. It was the most maternal attention I’d had in years. What did it say about my own mother that I was getting it here with Mimi instead of with her?
“Enough of that,” she said, her voice taking on the brisk tone I associated with her. “Let’s do something together today, shall we? We could go visit your grandfather. Maybe have a nice meal out?”
I wanted to see Pops. I really did. But thoughts of the ferry had me swallowing hard. “I was going to go back to the café this morning—” Her glare kept me from finishing the sentence.
“What did I just say about pampering?” she asked, and I suppressed a shiver. She had this way of talking that physically compelled you to follow her instructions. Something about the set of her shoulders, the flash in her eyes. It had always been that way. She was the only person I knew, and that included my father, who could make grown men cower without raising her voice.
“Spending the day together sounds good,” I said quickly, relieved when she smiled. “Really good.”
“Excellent. Why don’t you go get ready, and I’ll meet you down here in half an hour.”
I jumped up from the table, dropping a quick kiss on her cheek before scurrying upstairs. That was the thing about my grandmother—she always got her way in the end.
“Isn’t this a lovely day?” my grandmother asked, looking around the hillside with something like wonder on her face.
“It’s great,” I said, trying to smooth my hair for the hundredth time.
“You’re a terrible liar, Iris,” she said, linking her arm through mine. “Anyone can see you’re miserable. Look around you, child! Look at that sky! Look at that gorgeous blue water!”
“It’s a little tricky to see with this wind stinging my eyes, Mimi,” I said, sounding a bit whiny, even to my ear.
“Oh, it’s not that windy. Besides, can’t you just smell the water on the air?”
I didn’t want to point out that the Lake Michigan water, unlike salt water, didn’t actually smell like anything from a distance, but I
bit my tongue. She had that look on her face, the one I had seen on all the islanders I’d encountered at one time or another. The one that meant they were completely enraptured with this little rock, and it would be useless to say a single word against it.
“Come on,” she said, pulling me along. “We’re nearly there.”
I let my gaze wander up the hill and had to bite back a groan. I wasn’t sure what her definition of nearly was, but it was certainly different from mine. The hotel would have to be situated at the very top of the hill, of course. With the wind stinging my face and the steep incline of the road, I wasn’t exactly feeling pampered. And it was more than a little humbling that of the two of us, I was the one out of breath. My grandmother, decades my senior, seemed to positively bound up the hill.
“Come on, Iris. The eggs Benedict at the Big Hotel is worth the walk. Best breakfast on the island.”
“Pops made the best breakfast on the island,” I mumbled, but I slipped my hand into hers and tried to keep up as she led the way up the hill to the Big Hotel. It wasn’t actually called that, of course, but everyone on the island referred to it that way and always had. Of the island’s many inns, hotels, and bed and breakfasts, the Ottawa Hotel was the most grand and, obviously, the largest. Situated on the island’s bluff, it could be seen from everywhere in the town and harbor. The Ottawa had been keeping watch over the island for more than a hundred years, entertaining presidents and auto barons and various members of the rich and famous looking for an escape as far back as the gilded age. My parents and I had stayed there, once, back when we used to visit the island every summer. My father decided he’d had enough of spending his vacation in his mother-in-law’s spare room. When he put his foot down and demanded we stay in a hotel, it was only natural that he picked the swankiest place on the island. He had then proceeded to spend the week grilling everyone there, from the manager to the housekeeping staff, on the operation of the hotel, the expense of running it in the winter, the profit margin for the previous quarter. He had never been able to turn off his developer’s brain, even on this little island in the middle of nowhere.
“There now,” Mimi said once we were seated. “This is worth a bit of a hike, isn’t it?”
The dining room was beautiful, like something from a book on the gilded age. Filling the room with natural light, an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling picture windows looked out over the bluff and the bay far below. The tables were dressed with crisp white linens, real china, and cut-glass vases filled with flowers, and real crystal chandeliers hung from the towering ceilings.
“Do you remember when I would bring you and Posey here for tea when you were little?”
I grinned at the thought. Mimi always made those afternoons out to be the biggest deal. We would get all dressed up in our nicest things, our grandmother included, and then stop in town to have our nails painted or our hair curled. It was only us girls, Mimi, Posey, and me. Our precious time, as she used to call it.
“As if I would forget that. Those are my favorite memories of the island.”
“I have a lot of happy memories of you on the island,” she murmured, reaching over to pat my hand. “You always belonged here a great deal more than you realized, Iris.”
I was saved from having to argue by the arrival of Zane, who managed the restaurant here at the Big Hotel. “Rose,” he said happily, swooping down to kiss her cheek. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.” He winked at me, “No offense, Iris.”
I grinned. I didn’t know my cousin’s boyfriend all that well, but I liked him already.
“I’m in perfect agreement, Zane,” I said with a wink.
“Your restaurant looks fantastic,” she told him. “Look at those peonies! I can’t believe they’re blooming this big in Jerry’s hot house already.”
He met my eye, and I got the distinct impression that the peonies had not, in fact, come from Jerry’s—or anywhere else on the island. But he obviously had the good sense not to say so to my grandmother. I definitely like him, I thought, hiding my smile with my napkin.
“And are those new sconces?” she continued, oblivious. “I don’t remember those.” She nodded at him approvingly. “Very nice, Zane. You have a wonderful eye.”
“This is why I love it when you come to visit, Rose. You appreciate me.” He laughed a little, rolling his eyes. “Much more than I can say for the stuffy buddies who run this place.”
“They may own this place,” she said, leaning forward and lowering her voice. “But you run it. He who runs the dining room runs the whole shebang. That’s what Francis and I always said.”
Something caught Zane’s eye across the room because he straightened. “Sorry, ladies, duty calls. I have mimosas on the way for you, and your waiter will be here in a second.” He kissed Mimi’s cheek once more, waved to me, and was off across the room.
“That boy is a wonderful manager,” Mimi said, watching him as he greeted a table of well-dressed ladies—probably VIP guests from the hotel, if I was guessing. “I’m sorry your grandfather and I never had the chance to hire him. Things probably would have been a lot different at Rose’s if he’d been in the family before Francis’s heart attack.”
“Well, he’s not technically in the family now, Mimi. He and Edward are just dating.”
She scoffed. “He and Eddie are made for each other. Everyone can see that.”
I had a fleeting memory of my cousin Edward at fifteen, red-faced and shaky-voiced, telling Posey and me that he thought he was gay. He was terrified to tell the rest of the family, certain that their Catholic, traditional, Italian-family-centered worldview would doom him to a life of exile. In the end, he needn’t have worried. By the time he worked up the courage to tell them, he was eighteen and home from his first year of college for Thanksgiving. I believe my grandmother’s exact words had been, “Of course, dear. Now stir this roux for my gravy, don’t let it stick.” His twin brother, Andrew, had shrugged and asked if it was supposed to be a secret. And his parents had barely managed to give him a brief hug before Mimi started shouting about the ruined the gravy.
My family, flakey mother non-withstanding, could be pretty great sometimes.
“Now, if I could just see you and Posey so happily partnered up,” she added, and I closed my eyes, sighing. Amazing, yes. They could also be pretty annoying.
“Don’t you give me that sigh,” she said, reaching across the table to poke my arm. “It’s a grandmother’s prerogative to want happiness for her grandchildren.”
“Yes, Mimi,” I said. “But it’s a grandchild’s prerogative to decide what that happiness is for themselves.”
She made a face. “I assume you’re talking about your career.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Why do you say it like that? What’s wrong with wanting a good career?”
“Not a thing.” Her face suddenly tightened, turning serious. “I just don’t think it’s good to obsess about it to the point of excluding all of your other options.”
“Mimi—”
“This career of yours certainly didn’t make you look very happy the day you showed up on my porch.”
I shook my head. “That was the lack of a career, Mimi.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “It all comes down to the same thing. You work too hard, you work too much. You think about work when you’re not working.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Just like your mother was.”
It’s not often I get angry with my grandmother, but I found myself sitting straighter in my chair, my skin tingling in that way that told me I was close to losing my temper. “Well, history isn’t going to repeat itself there,” I snapped.
If she was put out with me for snapping at her, she didn’t show it. She merely sat back in her chair, appraising me over her water glass. “You still think she made a mistake, don’t you?”
I snorted. “What, quitting an amazing job, leaving behind an amazing city, to come live here and fool around with paints in a garage? How on
earth could anyone consider that a mistake?”
As soon as the words had left my mouth, I knew I’d gone too far. It was one thing to tease, but I had pretty much explicitly insulted the island, and her daughter. But Mimi merely watched me, a mild expression on her face.
“I’m not going to pretend to know the ins and outs of your mother’s decision to move home,” she finally said. “But I will say this—she’s happy, Iris. A lot happier than most of the people I know.” She met my gaze, hers sharpening, and I could read the unsaid question in her eyes. Are you?
“Come now.” She reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “We’re getting awfully close to bickering, and there’s no bickering on a girls’ day out, is there?”
I swallowed, taking a few deep breaths before looking back at her. “No, Mimi. There isn’t.”
She grinned at me, and I felt slightly better. It was hard to stay mad under the power of that woman’s smile. “Good. Now we can move on to gossiping about your cousin and that horrible fiancé of hers.”
“Mimi!” I gasped, laughing. “You don’t like Paul?”
“Paul.” She said his name like the very sound of it was offensive. “What’s to like, dear?”
“Well, he makes Posey happy,” I pointed out, leaning back in my chair to grin at her. I loved snarky, gossipy Rose.
“If she’s so happy, then why haven’t they set a date?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “You answer me that.”
“They’re both busy, Mimi. You know how she gets during the school year. And he’s a doctor, on the mainland half the time.”
“Psh. I’ll tell you, when I was engaged to your grandfather, wild horses couldn’t have held me back from marrying him. I was ready to run to Atlantic City the moment he asked.”
Where Your Heart Is (Lilac Bay Book 1) Page 8
