I lean over the railing and scoop her up. Baby Kate blinks up at me, tears still pooled along her copper lash line. I have a sudden memory of a book I read once or twice in childhood:Are You My Mother?Images of a bird hopping from animal to animal looking for his absent parent dance across my vision, and my tired brain vaguely itches with the question of why that bird wasn’t a helluva lot more distraught.
Right on cue, Baby Kate’s mouth opens and I get a great view of a tiny tooth cresting past her gums as she wails.
The door to my room swings open and my brother-in-law, Jake, pops his head in. “Shit. You could hear the blender in here?”
I hold out the baby and a flood of gratitude washes through me as Jake takes Kate right away. He cradles her like a football and holds the door open for me to follow him out.
“I told Lindsey she’d wake the baby, but you know how she gets when she’s working on a project. It’s like with her quilting: once I saw her making the grocery list for her holiday fruit crisp, I knew I was in for a kitchen deep clean and a morning of being banished from my own refrigerator. She forgets the world exists until she’s done.”
Jake starts down the hall and I follow him. He pauses his monologue to glance back briefly, nodding his head at the clothes I’ve slept in.
“You need to borrow more clothes or want me to get ‘em when we’re at the inn?”
All at once, I’m fully awake. My stomach turns, and every joint in my body is newly sore at the clear memories of tossing and turning as I tried to fall asleep in my sister and brother-in-law’s guest bedroom.
My stuff is still at the Little Haven Inn. I had started to pack up, but when Jake had replied to my text message and said he could pick me up right away, I’d abandoned the project and made a beeline for the veranda before I had to run into Molly again.
We round a corner into the kitchen. Shit, Jake wasn’t exaggerating: Lindsey has every available space covered in flour and berries and tins. She glances up and half-waves at me before ducking in front of the oven and producing a piping hot crumble.
“Is this—”
“Molly told her not to, but Lindsey insisted on bringing something for the party tonight.”
“Things might be weird between her and my brother, but that does not mean I’ve lost my good manners.” Lindsey sticks her tongue out at him as she places the crumble on their granite countertop. “Mama may not have found success in raising a Southern gent, but she raised a Southern lady. Thank you very much.”
She winks at me before leaving the crumble behind to cross around the counter. Lindsey glances out the wide window that leads to their porch; snow has picked up some time in the night. It’s piled high on the railing and stairs that lead down to the yard. The air is thick with it, so choked I can’t see the start of the forest behind the property.
“Lord, it’s really coming down,” Lindsey mutters. “Hopefully bakin’ all this crisp won’t be for nothin’, and the party won’t be canceled thanks to the snowstorm.”
Ma’s wheelchair is parked at the counter just in front of the window, and she’s bundled in the same hodgepodge of Amish stars. She’s unmoving as usual, her eyes distant and not registering the conversation going on around her. I cross to her as well, kissing her forehead before pulling out a counter stool beside her. I fold my arms over the counter and rest my head as I try to regroup with full knowledge of the day before me.
So, Jake and Lindsey are getting ready for Molly’s party. Of course they are. The whole of Little Haven is probably getting ready for the party; it’s not like there’s too much else to do around here. Come tonight, I won’t have any distractions. I won’t even have family around the house.
“So, are you gonna be a bitch and stay here during the party?” Lindsey asks, gaze darting to me only briefly as she grabs an uncooked crumble out of the fridge. “I’ll pray for you.”
“Be nice,” Jake reminds her with a snort as he positions Kate in a highchair. Berries and oats wait for her there, and I realize I’m right in the path of where she might throw them as she eats breakfast. Sounds about right.
“All I’m sayin’ is we didn’t get much detail, did we?” Lindsey goes on. “I heard from Nancy Smith who heard from her son on the basketball team who heard from that Mr. Bates that Molly was with Hunter in her lobby yesterday afternooncryin’.Can you justify that, Rhett Butler?”
“I had my reasons.” I stiffen.
“Room poll,” my sister announces. “If you think Gray needs to man up and either come up with a good reason for ditching the beautiful hometown girl or tuck his tail ‘tween his legs and apologize, stay absolutely silent.”
“Lindsey…” Jake warns.
My sister jerks her head in Ma and Kate’s direction. “The silent ayes have it.”
I run my hands through my hair, unable to get my mind focused how I want it. I still feel like I’m half-asleep, like I’ve drifted from the drama of yesterday into this strange, hazy morning.
“I’ve had a plan since I was a kid, Lindsey,” I say finally. “I’ve always known what I wanted, and I’ve worked hard for that. Shouldn’t that mean something?”
“What the hell does success mean if you don’t have someone to share it with?” Lindsey stops what she’s doing to take off her oven mitts and put her hands on her hips. She sizes me up now, her gaze not letting me squirm away. “You know Molly Moore had one of them big hotel buyers over to the inn before you came into town? It was a big deal. I heard from Ashton MacFarlane who heard from Annie—”
“Lindsey. The point.” Her husband reminds her.
Lindsey squares her shoulders as she looks at me. “The point is, she’d gotten worn down at the hotel and was entertaining a buy-out. She inherited that inn from her grandma all those years ago, and I don’t think she had ever really considered how hard renovations might be. What I heard, she was a breath away from giving up on it.”
My chest tightens. That’s not the story I got from Molly. That’s not the girl I saw slaving away behind her front desk, sorting through all her grandmother’s old things and cleaning and polishing to make the Little Haven Inn something great.