She nodded, and opened an interior design app Jordan recognized from her time with Dalloway and Daughters on her iPad.
“Okay, based on the ideas Simon and I discussed”—here Jordan shot Simon aWhat the fucklook, one she very much hoped Natasha didn’t notice—“this is what I had in mind for this floor.” Astrid handed the device to Pru.
“Here we’ll throw the design onto the viewers’ screen, just so you know,” Emery said.
Astrid nodded, and both Jordan and Simon stood to hover over their grandmother, who clearly didn’t have much of an idea of what to do with the iPad. Jordan knelt beside her and helped her zoom in and out and rotate the 3D images of the rooms, seeing them from all angles.
They might as well have been exploring the Pottery Barn website. Everything was white and gray, textured with rough woods, stripes, a random floral print throw pillow here and there. There were subway tiles in the kitchen, white-and-gray marble counters, stainless steel appliances. Modern Farmhouse, Jordan knew the style was called. It was luxurious and classic all at once. It was lovely.
But it wasn’t the Everwood.
The Everwood was eaves and secrets, wavy glass and copper pots, cozy nights spent in front of a fire, walls of dark wood bookcases all around. Jordan took in a slow breath, trying to keep Simon’s words from earlier at the forefront of her mind.
“Wow,” Simon said. Jordan waited for him to go on, but he didn’t. He just gazed at the images on the iPad, his hand covering his mouth as though in deep thought over the accent wall in the dining room. White shiplap, oh how original.
“You asked for this?” Jordan finally said, glaring at Simon.
He reared back. “We have to modernize, Jordie. ‘Creepy haunted house’ isn’t cutting it anymore in this day and age.”
Jordan saw Astrid glance at the crew, but Emery rotated their forefinger, a clear sign to keep going.
“I’m not saying it is, but this isn’t us,” Jordan said.
“It’s what weneedto be,” he said. “To compete.”
She shook her head, boggled at his attitude. This design didn’t modernize the Everwood. It didn’t update it. It flung it into metamorphosis, transforming it into something Jordan didn’t even recognize.
“Grandma, what do you think?” she asked.
“Ah,” Pru said. “This is...”
The older woman frowned. Blinked. Jordan felt relief rising up in her. Her grandmother didn’t like it. She could tell from the way her brows were shoved together, her red-lipsticked mouth pursed.
“This is lovely,” Pru finally said.
“What?” Jordan said. Blurted, really. Simon shot her yet another look. Jordan shot him one back, one that she hoped said,Are you fucking serious right now?
Apparently, though, he was. He squeezed their grandmother’s shoulder and said, “It’s very modern.”
“It is that,” Natasha said, and Jordan met her eye. There wassomething there, some question, but Jordan couldn’t tell what the hell their host was thinking.
“It’s very calming,” Natasha added. “Spa-like, which a lot of inn-goers are looking for.”
“Luxury,” Astrid said, nodding at Natasha.
Pru nodded, her mouth pressed flat.
Fuck my life, Jordan thought.
“I can make any adjustments you’d like, of course,” Astrid said, motioning toward the iPad. “These are just preliminary ideas. As we move forward, I’d love your involvement in choosing fabrics, furniture pieces, appliances, and the like.”
“Of course, dear,” Pru said. “Though I’m sure whatever you pick will be wonderful.”
Jordan opened her mouth to protest—this wasnother grandmother. Her grandmother was highly involved in every aspect of the inn. Always had been. It was her baby, after all, herlife.
This wasn’t right. None of this felt right.
Jordan placed her hand on Pru’s arm. “Grandma—”
