The song faded to the end, and Miss Dahlia finally stepped out of Uncle Augo’s arms. But not before his uncle gave her a peck on the cheek.
Caleb shot his gaze from his Romeo-uncle to the sofa, where Ariel gave Granddad a CD and he smiled at her, fully engaging with her in a grandfatherly way.
Praise the Lord for that much.
“How did my aunt end up here?” she asked Granddad.
“Those two ran into each other in the lobby. I invited him to come over and meet you, since he’s a fan, and he brought Miss Dahlia. Along with half the island.”
Ariel took a marker from her purse. “I’ll autograph the disc for you, if you want.”
“Please do. And maybe we can have another dance party while you’re here.”
This from the man who’d always threatened to throw out any guest whose music he could hear from the hallway?
Miss Dahlia led Uncle Augo across the wide room toward them. “Ariel, this is Augo Kennedy, Caleb’s great-uncle, and my old…friend. Auggie, meet my great-niece Ariel Denton Sullivan.”
Uncle Augo took the hand Ariel offered. “Interesting middle name—the same as your aunt’s surname.”
“It’s a Southern tradition,” Ariel said in that little Tennessee drawl of hers. “To honor my grandfather.”
When Ariel had signed all the CDs and divided them among the crowd, the geriatric flash mob broke up, with even Uncle Augo and Miss Dahlia going separate ways. Since the fun was over, such as it was, and one of the home health aides would come soon to help Granddad to bed, Caleb and Ariel left too.
Caleb considered offering his arm again but decided against it as they ambled into the lobby.
Ariel turned in a circle, her gaze sweeping the room. “It’s quiet here now.”
“Thank the Lord. My ears are still ringing from that wild party.” He’d hoped to hear the tinkling laugh Ariel was famous for. Surprisingly, it worked. “This is my favorite time of day. Most of the guests have settled in their rooms, but a few prowl around to enjoy the peacefulness.”
“It’s a wonder no one complained about the noise.” Ariel laid her hand on his arm. “Since nobody’s here, want to brainstorm some lobby improvements?”
Caleb glanced around the cavernous room, very aware of the warmth of her hand through his sleeve. And the coolness when she removed it. Shoving aside the thought, he pulled out his phone and opened his notebook app as they stopped near the circular staircase. “Where should we start?”
“Let’s look at strengths and weaknesses.” She tilted her head, her gaze drifting across the giant room. “Strength: lots of space, fantastic original wood-and-stone fireplace. The big reception area lets you check in several families at once while leaving room for cookies and fudge.”
“Lots of square footage for hospitality at the breakfast bar.” He waved toward the sprawling wooden counter between the reception desk and restaurant entrance. “Complimentary gourmet coffee and tea with fresh local cream, pastries from the bakery up the street, and in-season fruit every morning.”
“How about adding a lunch bag for bikers and hikers?”
Caleb added it to his new to-do list. “Now the weaknesses.”
She glanced around, then lowered herself onto a faded green couch. “The seating areas could use a refresh. Some of these sofas sag a little.”
A little? “I never noticed before, but you’re sitting way too low.” He sat beside her and realized just how low.
“Some older people might have trouble getting up.”
“Not that gang we just left.”
Her laugh gave him an unreasonable sense of satisfaction.
“The fabric might be a bit dated too,” she said.
“I know nothing about modern furniture design.”
“This inn oozes bygone charm. I wouldn’t go with a modern look.” She stood and glanced around. “Maybe just new sturdy, luxurious sofas with, say, Victorian-style fabric.”
Caleb rose too and looked at the furniture with fresh eyes. A lot of it needed to go. “Victorian—that means antique, right?”
