Elle didn’t want Zelda worrying about what she would do for work if the county couldn’t place her in another position—or better yet—find a way to fund her job teaching art.
“Thanks for starting the Sterno,” Zelda said as she lowered a tray of food into a chafing dish. “On my way down to the dining room, the Gibbons, who are in room twelve, stopped me and said they needed fresh towels. I went to the linen closet to get them some, but it’s empty. That’s strange because last night when I checked, we had at least three sets of washcloths, bath and hand towels. I wonder where they went?”
Zelda frowned and raked a hand through her auburn curls. She was in her midfifties and still had a shape that most thirtysomethings would envy and a peaches-and-cream complexion that was pretty near flawless except for the worry crease at the bridge of her nose and the faint lines around her eyes.
“I don’t know, Mom. I’m sorry. There were plenty of towels in my bathroom. I’d be happy to call the linen service and arrange for a delivery if you want.”
Zelda waved her hand. “We had to cut linen service. We do the laundry in-house to save money. It’s a lot of extra work, but it’s part of the belt-tightening process.”
Belt-tightening?
Elizabeth was about to ask if everything was okay when Zelda chatted on.
“You know, to afford this renovation we’re wanting to do. But anyway, I was downstairs a few minutes ago throwing in another load of towels. I did several yesterday afternoon, but I didn’t have a chance to fold them and put them away. But I know I saw towel sets in the downstairs linen closet last night.”
“Someone must’ve helped themselves,” Elle said. “No worries. After we get the breakfast meeting set up, I’ll fold the towels for you, deliver a fresh set to the Gibbons’ room and restock the linen closet. I’m happy to help out while I’m here.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” The crease between her mother’s eyes eased a bit. It sounded as if she’d been working hard. Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to lighten her load. While her grandmother seemed to thrive in this business, her mother was more of an introvert.
“Where’s Gigi this morning?”
“Lately, she doesn’t make it downstairs until mid-morning,” Zelda said.
Gigi had been talking about retiring and turning the place over to Zelda. When she did, her mother would need to hire someone at least part-time to help her. Especially on days like this. The Forsyth Galloway was not a one-woman operation.
“You look tired,” Elle said as she took a tray of blueberry muffins off the cart and set them on the buffet. “Not in a bad way. You’re as beautiful as always. But I worry about you with this load and cutting back staff. Are you holding up okay?”
“Oh, honey, I’m fine. This place is just...” Zelda’s words trailed off and her brow furrowed again. “It’s fine.”
She smiled, but Elle detected a certain note in her voice. She decided to take another tactic.
“Then, if everything here is fine and you’re tired, that must mean you’re keeping secrets.” Elle laughed. “Is there a man who’s keeping you up late? Because something’s keeping you up.”
She wanted to say something to lighten the mood, but she was half-serious.
Zelda snorted good-naturedly and smiled. “Heavens no! Are you kidding? I have no time to meet men. At the end of the day, I go up to my room and fall asleep in front of the television every night because I’m too tired to move.”
Zelda had suffered an acrimonious divorce several years ago and hadn’t found anyone else. Elle understood why her mom would be gun-shy. The split had been painful. Elle hadn’t exactly been gung ho to fall in love again after Roger. So, she understood her mom’s hesitation.
“Darn, I was hoping there was a man,” Elle joked.
Zelda ignored her. “Doesn’t the food smell good? Looks like Moriah outdid herself this morning.” Zelda lowered a pan of mini quiche into one of the chafing dishes. Elle did the same with the biscuits and a pan of bacon. Since the inn didn’t have a restaurant and only offered a continental breakfast to guests, Moriah West of the Chat Noir Café, a fixture in downtown Savannah, catered most of the events at the Forsyth that required substantial food.