by Dixie Davis
The usual dinner din quieted a notch. “I’m sorry. I told you I’d be here.”
“Obviously, I found you. I need those things taken out of my room. Right now.”
“Which things?”
Dawn reared back, her blonde bob swinging with the movement. “All of them, of course! I booked my room because I liked how Beth had it. I’m not here for you.”
Lori glanced around, suddenly aware every eye was on her. Especially the eyes of Heidi Carleton, who already hated Lori for “running her sister out of town.” As if Lori had forced Beth to sell the inn.
All right, she had to admit that she’d convinced Beth to retire when the inn wasn’t even on the market, but still.
“I’m sorry,” Lori tried again, softening the apology even more with a smile. “I’ll put the room back the way it was as soon as I get home.”
“You’d better. This is definitely going in my review.” Dawn stalked to the counter for a to-go order.
Lori covered her burning cheeks with her hands. Was she wrong to change the room? Or to apologize for it now? Should she have stood up for herself now? Or earlier? Her stomach made one complete revolution, gearing up for a total revolt. Her first guest was not turning out at all like she’d imagined — or hoped.
“All done?” Joey’s wary eyes were still focused on Dawn.
“Let’s go,” Lori whispered.
It’d been such a nice evening. Not quite as special as Joey had promised yesterday, but Lori wouldn’t have complained.
Now she had something else to complain about entirely. She folded her arms across her waist and waited while Joey paid at the counter. She almost couldn’t bear to watch to see if Joey said anything to Dawn.
He didn’t, and Dawn stalked out with her to-go bag. That was a relief. Though Lori didn’t feel relieved. She felt sicker with every moment. She looked around at the evening crowd returning to their meals. Not only was Heidi Carleton here, but half the other business owners along Front Street — her neighbors. What would they think of her if her first guest was so dissatisfied she tracked Lori down at dinner?
The mid-April evening was warm enough that neither of them needed a jacket although the sun was nearly down. Joey took her hand and guided her back to Front Street by a different route than the one they’d taken, reaching her street where it was still residential, expensive beach houses and rentals with boats worth more than most family cars.
These people were her neighbors now. She’d bought into the street. Lori couldn’t get over the wonder — but now she had to wonder how long she’d last. Was she not cut out for this career?
“Don’t let one disgruntled guest get you down,” Joey said. “I’ve been doing this practically my whole life. Everybody deals with them.”
Lori nodded, but that didn’t stop the repeat track of Dawn’s sneers and shouts.
“Was she like that when she arrived?” Joey asked.
Lori recalled the afternoon. “I guess so.”
Joey let go of her fingers long enough to spread his hands out in front of him, a there-you-go gesture. “Then it’s either how she is, or she’s brought more baggage than what fit in her suitcase.”
Dawn’s “unfortunately” sprang back to Lori’s mind. Definitely sounded like there was baggage. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Don’t you forget it.” Joey entwined their fingers again as they reached the corner of Main and Front Streets. Then he tugged her across the street, toward one of the town’s small riverfront beaches.
“Where are we headed now?”
“It’s a surprise. I told you tonight would be special. You didn’t think Brunswick stew at the Salty Dog qualified, did you?”
“No, no I didn’t.” She laughed and followed him, pausing only long enough to slip out of her sandals at the end of the wooden boardwalk. He led her along the boulders, toward the water, stopping once they had an unobstructed view of the river, maybe even all the way to the Atlantic.
Lori sighed, trying to let go of the tension that was still trying to steal her dinner and her dignity. This sight was her peace. And her perspective from her front porch now. “I love this view.”
“It’s the best. And I wish I could see it every day.”
And then Joey dropped to one knee. “Lori Marie Keyes,” he said, his voice trembling ever so slightly. “Will you marry me?”
Lori’s jaw nearly hit the sand. “What?”
“Marry me, Lori.”
Time stood stock-still.
They’d only been dating for a few months. Lori hadn’t even told her boys she’d met someone, but that was mostly because meeting someone online in an innkeeper forum was not something someone her age did. And Joey wanted to marry her?
Lori tousled his dark curls. How could she have found this man — kind, perfect, handsome, and practically an expert in the field she’d thrown herself into, and now he wanted to commit to her like this? “Are you sure?” she finally asked.
“Of course! Oh, I forgot!” Joey pulled out a ring box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a simple silver band set with a row of modest diamonds.
“Should I ask again?” His brown puppy-dog eyes practically begged her to accept his first offer.
And how could she say no to that? “Okay.”
Joey’s dark eyes scanned her face, then looked around for reassurance. “Okay, I should ask again, or okay, you’ll marry me?”
“Okay, I’ll marry you.”
Joey jumped to his feet, took her face in his hands and pulled her close.
She was getting married. Again.
Lori’s five AM wake-up call was greeted with a grunt. Her six thirty breakfast knock wasn’t answered at all. Lori almost headed back to bed — she was still getting used to the early mornings — but decided she should be up in case Dawn needed anything.
At eight thirty, while Lori was working the puzzle in the parlor, Dawn finally made her appearance. “Did you change out the mattress too?” she demanded, exaggeratedly rubbing her back.
“Sorry, no,” Lori said, looking up with a smile. “Just the way Beth had it.”
“Hmph. Too bad she didn’t leave you her coffee cake recipe.”
Lori buttoned her lips. The ham and egg English muffin sandwich wasn’t the right guess. She focused on her crossword. “Do you know a five-letter word for ‘no longer a wife’?”
“How many letters is ‘divorced’?” Under the usual gruff bitterness, a pain lurked that seemed too much for someone who couldn’t be much above thirty.
But Lori couldn’t ask about that. “Of course — I should’ve known. It’s ‘widow.’ Silly me, a widow forgetting the word widow.”
“You’re a widow?” Dawn asked. Her voice was sharp as ever, but the steel had softened around the edges.
Lori smiled and nodded. “Yeah, thirteen years now.”
“I’m sorry,” Dawn murmured.
“There are worse ways to end a marriage,” Lori said, dropping her voice too. She paused to see if Dawn wanted to talk, but the other woman wrapped one arm around herself, chewing on her other thumb.
When it didn’t seem like Dawn was going to say anything, Lori held up her left hand. “But Joey proposed last night, actually.”
Dawn barely glanced at the ring. Her skin seemed paler suddenly. “Congratulations.” She strode from the parlor before Lori could even say thank you.
Definitely a story there. But Lori knew better than to hound someone when they didn’t want to talk.
She got up from the floral sofa to watch Dawn’s path outside. A white sedan pulled around the gravel drive and parked. A redheaded man opened the door and stood, and Dawn got in the passenger side.
Was this her husband? From here, he looked tall and young, probably early thirties, around Dawn’s age.
The white sedan drove off with Dawn inside. Maybe they were reconciling, or at least trying to be civil?
Lori tried to ponder her crossword more than the puzzle Dawn was presenting, but s
he wasn’t succeeding.
“Good morning!” Joey strode in the front door as Lori filled in the last answer on her crossword. “Any checkouts this morning?”
The hope in his voice bordered on comical. “No, our guest is staying another night. But she’ll leave Wednesday morning, so we’ll turn over the room then.” And put back all the new décor.
Joey nodded. How could he do this all in his job and then come here to help on his day off? With raising her boys and working, she hadn’t had time to date, and she and Glenn had been high school sweethearts. It’d been so long since Lori had been in a real relationship, she’d forgotten what it was like.
“How about I help you conquer that paperwork, and maybe that pantry?”
Beth was many wonderful things, but an organizer wasn’t one of them. The paperwork and the pantry were the two places where it showed the worst. Even after developing a system with Joey, and working on it solidly for two days, Lori was still behind. She beamed up at Joey. “Thank you, dear.”
They traded places, and Lori tried to think of somewhere she could be more productive. “Mind if I run to the grocery store?”
“You have our menu plan still?”
Lori nodded and pulled out the folder for proof. Joey was all about systems, and planning meals for the next few weeks was another of his helpful ideas.
“Good girl. Just try not to get sidelined again.”
Lori laughed. “I can’t make any promises.”
“Then how about a bet? I bet you can’t get out of there in less than an hour.”
The nearest full grocery store was ten minutes away each direction, but the drive wasn’t the most time-consuming part of her shopping trips. “And what are we wagering?”
Joey’s smile turned even more mischievous.
She swatted his arm. “Don’t get any ideas, Joseph Locke. I’m a good Christian girl.”
“That’s why I want a good Christian wedding — as soon as possible.”
Lori laughed and swatted him again, though her middle did a little dip. They were really getting married. And soon.
Joey turned serious. “I mean it, though.”
“About the bet?”
“Yeah, that and the wedding.”
“We’ve got a lot to plan for the wedding.” She turned the teasing back to the present. “And so far you’ve come up with nothing to wager.”
He gestured around the room. “You’ve got quite a bit to wager.”
“What, if I win, you’ll be my husband and co-owner?”
Joey moved his lips in an I’m-impressed expression. “Not what I was thinking, but I like the sound of it. Locke and Keyes, Innkeepers.”
Lori laughed. Even their names fit together. “I’m not sure this is a bet I’d want to win.” Or lose? Which was the flirty answer?
“Okay, I’ll put my inn’s best secret recipe on the table against yours, then. Deal?”
“Definitely.” Lori shook hands with Joey, then she further sealed the deal with a kiss.
Within forty-five minutes, she’d lost. After nearly an hour of comforting a woman who’d recently lost her mother, Lori remembered the bet. Oh well. This was worth it.
After a final hug for the grieving daughter, Lori stepped back into the checkout line. Good thing she hadn’t gotten anything from the freezer case this time. Joey might tease her about this, but it seemed even likelier Dawn would find a reason to be upset she was gone. After all, she’d signed up for Beth, and not Lori — and especially not Joey.
At least Dawn couldn’t track her to the grocery store.
Just in case, Lori checked behind her in the line, and found a familiar face: Andrea Hopkins, curator the Dusky Cove Museum a few houses down from the Mayweather House. Andrea looked up, her short braids rearranging themselves, and grinned, her white teeth a contrast to her deep brown skin. “Hey, Lori!”
“Hi, Andrea. Out for supplies for the gift shop?”
Andrea laughed. “Shoot, no. These are for Marcus.” She patted a huge bag of pretzel sticks. Quite a lot for her seven-year-old son. “I heard you had quite a time last night.”
Lori instantly reached to make sure her slightly too big ring was still there. She beamed at Andrea. “You could say that.”
But Andrea frowned. “You’re happy about what happened at the Salty Dog?”
Lori felt the smile drop from her face. “Oh, that.” She blew out a long sigh and started loading her purchases onto the checkout conveyor belt. “Let’s just say I won’t be sad to get rid of that one.”
Andrea nodded in understanding, but a harrumph from behind Lori made her turn around to face forward. In front of her in line, waiting at the check stand, stood Heidi Carleton, Beth Owens’s sister. The one who hated even the idea of Lori. “Can’t believe you’d talk about a guest like that in public,” Heidi muttered decidedly loud enough for everyone in line to hear. “Beth would never speak about a guest that way.”
Beth had spoken to Lori about a couple problem guests in a lot harsher terms than that, but that was privately. Still, it wasn’t as though Lori had said something illegal or unethical. She forced herself to smile at Heidi. “I guess we’ll have to get used to doing things a little differently.”
Heidi snorted. “And I guess I’ll have to tell my friends to stay somewhere else, unless they want the innkeeper gossiping about them at the grocery store.”
“Now, Heidi,” Andrea chided. “Half the town already knows the woman tracked Lori down at dinner and made a fool of her in front of an entire restaurant. If I were her, I’d want to wring that woman’s neck!”
Heidi simpered back. “I’d rather see some business owners gone than one justifiably upset guest.”
Lori tried to ignore the javelin the sentiment sent into her chest. She already knew Heidi was never going to love her sister’s replacement. Even if Beth would be back in town in three weeks, Heidi acted as though Lori had banished the woman to Outer Mongolia. Lori smiled around her clenched teeth and pointed toward the teenage cashier. “I believe she’s ready for you.”
Heidi ignored Lori’s help. “Mark my words, Lori Keyes. You don’t belong in hospitality, you don’t belong at the Mayweather House, and you don’t belong here. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of the way so my sister has a home to come back to.”
A chill trailed through her as if the freezer section had caught up to the checkout. Lori pulled back. Had anyone hated her since . . . junior high?
She didn’t like this idea at all.
Heidi completed her purchase and bustled off, her dark blonde French twist completely unruffled by their exchange.
“Forget her,” Andrea said as she placed her pretzels on the conveyor belt. “She’ll come around once she sees Beth’s not going to go running off to Tahiti or wherever she’s at now.”
“Trinidad and Tobago,” Lori murmured. First, Dawn Vogel, now Heidi Carleton. She was racking up enemies left and right. In a town of three thousand, a couple of enemies was more than enough, especially if they were as connected as Heidi Carleton. The woman was the vice president of the town Business Owners Association, and that alone put Lori in a precarious position.
By the time she made it back to the Mayweather House and unloaded the groceries, Lori had rolled over the whole exchange in her mind enough to make for one giant anxiety burrito. She reached the parlor where Joey sat on the sofa reading the paper, and dropped onto the floral fabric next to him.
Not only was the couch out of style, it was hard, too.
“Hope you didn’t get too much junk food,” Joey said without looking up from the news. “And you lost the bet.”
“Uh huh,” she said. It was all the response she could muster.
“Ready to hand over your best secret recipe?”
She nodded. She’d picked out the Southwest mini frittatas before she’d even finished talking to the poor grieving woman. She’d almost forgotten the light in the woman’s eyes knowing that someone else had been there and that one
day, the pain wouldn’t be quite as sharp. The shopping trip hadn’t been all bad. It had only ended that way.
“You all right, babe?” Joey finally set the paper down and studied Lori’s face.
“I hate knowing that someone . . . hates me.”
Joey drew back an inch, pure shock on his face. Lori leaned against his chest and Joey wrapped an arm around her. “Who could hate you?”
“Beth’s sister, for one.” And the guest upstairs was another. The woman hadn’t even left to sit on the porch all day.
Joey shifted her off him and hopped up. “Let me cheer you up: I’ll show you what I got done while you were out losing miserably.”
She definitely felt like a loser, but Lori followed Joey anyway. He took her on a whirlwind tour of the “professional” part of the inn, showing off the organized piles of paperwork, some entered; the neatened silverware drawers; the alphabetized spice rack; the reorganized pantry; and even the straightened linen cabinets.
“You’ve been so busy,” Lori gushed. “It all looks wonderful.” She sighed, and the last of the tension from the encounter with Heidi left her shoulders. “Exactly what I needed.”
Joey beamed and gave her a squeeze. “Glad to hear it. I’ve got to head back to work now, but you should have some quiet for a little while — Dawn hasn’t come back. You all set to hold down the fort?”
“I am now. Thank you.”
Joey kept his arm around her. “Listen, I know it sounds crazy, but the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of getting married right away.” He smiled in a way that almost felt like a wink. “The thought of you getting away terrifies me.”
Butterflies fluttered in her middle. “Nobody’s trying to get away.”
“Hope not.” The wink-smile made another appearance, and the fluttering doubled.
Lori walked him to the door and kissed him goodbye. She’d never been sorrier to see his black coupe pull away.
Having a co-innkeeper — a co-owner — looked better and better every day.
Lori floated away on a sigh to go write out that recipe card for him. She only got halfway through the ingredients, however, before she flitted to the kitchen to check which spices she’d recommend. She spun the spice rack, watching the containers slide past, then stopped it once the bottom tier reached the Ts. Tarragon — they had tarragon? — and thyme. No taco seasoning.
