Read The Guestbook Online

Authors: Andrea Hurst

The Guestbook (19 page)

BOOK: The Guestbook
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On the shelf over the tub was a collection of candles, some shaped like shells, some like flowers, and others like pillars. Ceremoniously, she lit each one, lowered the light, and watched the room fill with a rosy glow. Iridescent suds foamed in the tub, lit only by candlelight. The night sky claimed the scene outside. She caught a glimpse out the window of the silver moon rising above the Olympics as she eased her aching body into the hot water. She melted back, eyes closed.
Magic, pure magic,
she thought.

She remembered when she and Ian had sat in the hot springs together, entangled in each other’s arms. Her heart raced with the memory. A vision of his full lips, parted and warm, increased her longing. Sinking down into the caressing suds, she released her breath and let the herbal water pull the tension from her muscles. She pushed Ian from her mind and let the moment be enough.

Chapter Twenty-Six

 

 

 

 

 

It was 7:00 AM. Who the heck was calling this early in the morning? Lily wondered. She hadn’t even finished making coffee yet. The caller ID on the kitchen phone showed Brad’s number. She hesitated. Under their lawyer’s instructions, they were not supposed to speak directly to each other. What did it matter now? After that letter, there was no way she could continue to retain a lawyer. She might as well start dealing with Brad directly.

“Hello,” she answered.

“Lily, this is Brad, please don’t hang up.”

She sighed. “I wasn’t planning to. I received a letter from my lawyer we need to discuss.” She added water and turned on the coffee pot.

“I received the same letter,” he said.

The line got quiet, and Lily wondered if they had lost the connection.  Very softly, she heard Brad speak.

“I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She couldn’t remember him ever apologizing, at least not for many years. Feelings surfaced, but she couldn’t distinguish whether they were of pity or just familiarity.

“It’s all my fault, Lily. I ruined everything. I just wanted you to be happy, for us to have a good life. Then everything started falling apart. I thought if I could just mortgage the house, buy more time…”

The aroma of fresh-made coffee filled the room. Lily paced, trying to catch her breath. “You should have told me, Brad.”

“I know, I know,” he said.

“You should have told me a lot of things. Like about the affair…”

Brad’s voice escalated. “That’s over now, done. I was just crazy and made a mistake. You’re the only one I love, Lily, always have been.”

It was all too much, and she couldn’t get any words out for fear she would break down crying. She should probably hang up.

“Lily, let’s drop all this divorce stuff, stop feeding money to the bloodthirsty lawyers.”

“What about mediation?” she said.

“We have over ten years invested in this marriage. We could start again, have a family.”

She shook her head from side to side. Now he brings up a child, the one thing I really wanted and he wouldn’t even consider.

“I have to think about all this. I’ll get back to you.”

“I’ll be waiting, Lily. I love you.”

She almost said love you, too, but caught herself and said goodbye. She felt dizzy and made her way to the rocker in the parlor to sit down. It was early May, and on days like this, she still needed to light a fire. She pulled the knitted throw around her, rocked and
stared out the window toward the Sound. If she stopped the divorce, it would be one less thing weighing on her shoulders, one less responsibility. This house, the taxes, the leaking plumbing, no money coming from the divorce, and she still owed the attorney.

If only everything could go back the way it was before, simple, uncomplicated. Was it really? Brad took care of everything, but then she could never make a choice on her own.  Could he really change? And Ian, was he just a fantasy, too good to be true? An artist who buried himself in his work and was still in love with the wife he lost? Was she kidding herself that she could make a business work on this small island? The dark, damp thoughts matched the clouds closing in on the house and grounds.

Maybe she would just go back to bed. There were no clients who needed a delivery today. Then she remembered, Betty had offered to come over this morning around eight and take a look at the leak in the kitchen. That was late for Betty; sometimes Lily saw their lights on before six in the morning.  She walked back in the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. If the plumbing needed expensive parts, it would have to just go on leaking. She better get dressed before Betty arrived bursting with energy.

At 8:00 AM sharp, Betty knocked on the kitchen door then poked her head in. “Yoo-hoo, you up, girl?”

Lily wandered into the kitchen. “Sure am, thanks for coming by.”

Betty had arrived with a large toolbox and a flashlight. She got down on her knees by the kitchen sink. “Let me get a look under here and see what’s happening.”

Lily held her breath; she did not need any more bad news.

“Looks like you need some new piping, probably a snake down the drain to clean it all out, too. I can get an estimate on the parts and do the labor myself.”

“Thanks, Betty, what a kind offer. But I’m afraid I’m short of cash right now.”

Betty stood and washed her hands in the sink. “No problem, we can loan you the money and get this fixed up. And Mary’s willing to keep working until you can pay her.”

“What are you talking about paying Mary? Doesn’t my grandmother’s estate pay her directly?”

Betty shook her head. “Not for a while now, I’m afraid. She doesn’t mind. None of us do.”

Someone being that nice was the last straw, and Lily started to cry.

Betty looked confused. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, of course not. That is so kind of you. I’m just overwhelmed right now. Not been a great few days.”

“It’ll work out, always does,” Betty said, picking up her tools. “Loan’s available if you want it, just let us know.”

Lily took a plastic container of cookies down from the shelf and handed them to her neighbor. “Thanks again.”

Right now, she needed time to think. She could call her mother go over the pros and cons of Brad’s offer. Maybe she wouldn’t. Her mother would go ballistic at the thought of Brad, no matter how many apologies he made. And she’d offer her more money. She’d already done enough to help. A list might help instead, weigh out her options. She was still married to him, was it worth another try?

The Guestbook. She would open it to wherever it led her. Her grandmother would help guide her. She retrieved it from the nightstand and propped up on her bed. The book was beautiful; she could imagine Grandma Maggie holding it in her hands. Lily closed
her eyes and opened the book to an entry near the end.

 

Maggie,

We were so glad to be some of your last guests at the Inn. We were just devastated when were heard you were closing this place. There will never be another quite like it. Here for you if you need us.

Rowena and Mare
–Coupeville, WA

 

Lily closed the book. She had let so many people down. Her grandmother, her mother, her husband, herself. If only she had been here for her grandma, maybe she could have helped her keep Madrona Island Inn open. She could be there for her husband now, help him rebuild, open a business in LA, where the economy was a little better. She turned to the last entry of the Guestbook.

 

Dear Lily the Innkeeper,

I hope you enjoy this place as much as I have, and that love finds you here as it did me.

Love,

Your Grandma Maggie

 

She dropped the book on the bed. Her grandmother’s last message to her. An  Innkeeper. How could she pull it off with all the issues facing her? How could she not? She did not want to disappoint her grandmother once again. It all came down to what she herself wanted at this moment and what she was willing to do to get it.

She thought about Betty walking the path back home in hiking boots, jeans, a parka, and knit hat. What a sight to see. Eighty years old and she’s offering to fix my kitchen plumbing. The women here on the island were something else. She could learn from them. So were some of the men, come to think of it. Like the nice mechanic who offered to fix her car for the cost of the parts and cookies for the next month.

She should bring some cookies over to Grandpa John and a few extra for Ian and Jason. She’d been kind of a recluse lately, and they could be a peace offering of sorts.

After retrieving a batch from the kitchen, Lily threw on a coat and started across the field. Spring grasses were coming up, and it was getting harder to walk across. John said he’d get his driving mower out soon and take care of it. Jason was sitting on a bench outside, playing a game with a friend. What a sweet kid, she hadn’t seen him in while either.

“Cookies!” he said, jumping to his feet.

Lily waved. “Plenty for all of you.”

She looked over to the door and saw Ian’s sinewy body leaning against the frame. This was going to be harder than she thought. One look at him and she wanted…she didn’t want to think about what she wanted.

She held up the container. “Brought some cookies for you all.”

Grandpa John joined Ian at the door. “Lily, so good to see you.” He walked down the porch steps and gave her a big hug. “Come on in. Ian, get the milk out.”

John stopped for a moment leaning against the door frame.

“Are you alright?” Lily asked.

“Fine, fine,” he said, “Just a bit dizzy there for a moment.”

The young boys followed behind and gathered at the kitchen table. “What kind are they?” Jason asked.

“I tried some new kinds, I hope you like them. One is chocolate chunk with salted caramel, and the other is my grandma’s Inn Style cookies. You might have had those before.”

“I remember those,” Ian said, his eyes searching hers. “They’re great.”

She held his gaze; there was no anger there, only longing. Could it really be for her?

John and the boys scarfed down the cookies, but Ian hadn’t moved from his place by the stove. Lily picked up a couple Inn Style cookies, placed them on a napkin, and brought them over to Ian.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a bite. “Taste pretty good, you have the touch.” He reached over and took her hand. “I’ve missed you.”

Shoving the last of a cookie in his mouth, Jason rose. “Dad, are we still going fishing today? We’ve been waiting all day.”

“Wanna go?” he asked Lily.

“I can’t. I’ve got to deal with the new property assessment and some other paperwork.”

“You too?” John said, rinsing her now empty plastic container out in his sink. “Shirley was over here screamin’ this morning, and I plan to go into the tax assessors office tomorrow and fight these tax raises. In this economy, who are they kidding?”

“Can I come?” Lily asked. “They have me as overdue too.”

“Sure thing. With the inn being closed and all, I’m sure we can work something out with them.” John leaned over and whispered in her ear, “If you need a little loan, you just let me know.” He winked. “And no interest.”

All these people offering to loan her money was very touching. But how would she ever pay them back if she accepted?

She turned to Ian. “You all have fun fishing today. I better get back to work.”

“Bye, Lily, thanks for the cookies. C’mon Dad.” Jason raced out the door with his friend toward the Volvo.

“I guess I’m being paged.” Ian kissed her forehead. “Let me know if there is anything I can do to help with that tax situation.”

She watched him walk toward the car. Gretel started barking and raced after him.

“Come on, girl,” Ian said, opening up the passenger door for the dog.

He waved as he started down the drive…the perfect dad.

Lily crossed the field and headed behind the house to one of her favorite spots on the property, the old pond. The rotting wood made her doubt whether the short dock leading out over the water would hold her weight, but the lure of the evening mist diffusing hues of violet and turquoise over the still water drew her down the rickety structure. Ghostly shadows of trees cast in the fading light undulated over the surface of the water. She felt as if she could just keep on walking, floating over the water, toward the sloping meadow and well-lit windows on the far side of the large pond. Ripples pushed the water up the shore like a small tide, and reeds ruffled in a slight breeze.

Looking up, she searched for the source of a tap-tap-tapping and saw two rowboats tied up together, knocking against each other as if to say hello in Morse code. She inhaled deeply.  The air was redolent of green things and damp earth, and it filled her with
pleasure. All thoughts of her former city life fell away. Careful to keep her balance, she bent forward and let her hand skim the water’s surface. “Like silk,” she whispered. Cool enough to raise goose bumps up her arms, yet tantalizing enough to encourage her to sit at the dock’s edge, pull off her shoes, and dangle her feet in.

Her toes wriggled below the water’s surface as she contemplated the scene. In the reeds, an almost imperceptible motion caught her eye. She was not alone after all. He was large, very gray in the dimming light, but his magnificent profile was unmistakable. Balanced with precision on one leg, he blended well into the foliage. Without a speck of warning, his long beak moved towards the water like an arrow shot from an archer’s bow. Dinner…silver scales shimmered in the faltering light of dusk, and the fish briskly disappeared down the throat of the Great Blue Heron. To her amazement, the splendid bird suddenly took to the sky, gliding away on wings spread wide. She imagined he was late getting home tonight, or perhaps, like herself, no one was waiting anxiously for his return.

BOOK: The Guestbook
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