SCOTT
My squeaky bedgroaned as I flipped over and stared at the ceiling. If there was a perfect night, it had to be last night. I had always felt like I was missing something, like there was a hole that needed patching inside. But with Marissa in my arms, looking up at me, and kissing me, the hole was closing.
I silenced my alarms, went to my email on my phone, and began sorting messages into the right folders.
What am I going to do about Raymond & Johnson Law?What do I want my future to look like?
With all her no-dating rules, was Marissa interested in a serious relationship with me? Why did she get nervous with the question of matching costumes with her kids one day? That seemed like something up her alley.
The canvas board of my goals sat in the room's corner. Stepping out of bed, my feet moved along the cold wooden floor. I grabbed the canvas and returned to my bed and stared at my vision board. Everything I wanted. But was it enough?
What did I want now? And why was I questioning everything after one kiss?
My phone vibrated with a notification. Maybe it was Marissa. I grinned as I tossed the canvas aside.
Not Marissa. It was an email from Clyde Johnson. My finger hovered over the envelope icon, as if I was standing at a crossroads. That’s ridiculous. It was just an email. I clicked it open.
Scott, I haven’t heard from you in over two weeks. I'm missing the frequent updates. How are things with the bed-and-breakfast? Don’t forget, your future is on the line. Please update me TODAY.
Clyde Johnson
I tossed my phone to the side. My stress was climbing to new levels. Yeah, that was a mistake. The smell of Carol’s pancakes downstairs found my stomach. I probably just needed to eat. Everything seemed less dramatic when I wasn’t hungry.
I grabbed my flip-flops, pulled on a loose shirt, and headed down the stairs. The fourth step creaked in protest.
“I was going to fix that, but then I found I liked the warning,” Carol called from the kitchen.
I grinned and stepped through the dining room into the kitchen and grabbed some plates from the cupboard.
The paint was peeling, and one cupboard door hung crooked. I tested it to find that all it needed was a new hinge.
I set the dishes down on the faded yellow tablecloth.
Carol sat down with a sigh, gesturing around the kitchen. “I’m just tired. This was always more my hubby’s dream than mine. Then we thought we would have kids that might continue running it, but that didn’t happen.” She stabbed a pancake, bringing it to her own plate. “This home is full of wonderful memories, but hard ones too.” She looked around the round table full of empty chairs. “Sometimes I wonder if there is a simpler life for me.”
Warning signs flashed.Proceed with caution. Was she saying she wanted to sell? “It’s a lot to run. I don’t know how you’ve kept it up by yourself. It’s not a one-person project.”
Carol rarely let her exhaustion show, but in this moment, she couldn’t keep the agonizing burden off her face. She wanted something else. At least some part of her did.
“I’ve had a lot of help . . . but never quite enough rest.” She sighed.
I took a bite of pancake.
“Carol, do you want to run the B&B?” I wasn’t sure how I wanted her to answer. I respected her and wanted her to have the life she wanted, but I also had my job on the line.
“No . . . I don’t know . . .” She eyed him. “Don’t go running off to the Raymond & Johnson Law firm on me.”
My hands raised in front of me. “I wasn’t planning on it . . . wait. What?” I leaned back in my chair.
Carol huffed. “The second you walked on to my property, I knew they must have sent you. You look exactly like the rest with shiny shoes, stiff suits, and flashy cars. I only let you stay because I would do anything for Marissa.”
I didn’t confirm or deny her claims.
“I'm curious. You’ve had offers. If this isn’t what you want . . . why not sell?” I looked around the room. “This place is beautiful and has a story everywhere I look. But it’s also a huge amount of property for one person . . . If you sell, you could?—”
“Don’t you start too. You sound like Betty Ann.” Carol set down her fork with a thud. “She thinks we should all move to Florida.”
I could see her walls snap back up. I had pushed too far. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pry. It’s a lovely place and I’m happy to help fix it up while I'm here.”
