Chapter 14

fourteen

I sabelle was eating a dinner salad at the kitchen table when, through the window, she noticed Shelby coming up from the beach with the same young man she'd seen her with on the dock late yesterday afternoon.

Eating the last bite of salad, Isabelle placed the plate in the dishwasher and hurried down the hall to the living room. She settled at the reception desk to wait. As soon as Shelby entered through the front door, Isabelle leapt to her feet. "There you are. I've been fielding guest inquiries about rates and availability for future dates. As our receptionist, this is your job."

Shelby glanced around the room. "Where? I don't see anyone."

"They're all gone now. Where have you been anyway?"

"Taking my dinner break. A friend brought over food from his family's cookout. We ate by the pool and went for a short walk on the beach. According to Pritchard, I don't have to sit at that desk 24/7."

"Is this friend the guy you've been sleeping with?" Isabelle asked in an accusatory tone.

Shelby's head jerked back. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me. I think it's sinful how promiscuous young people are these days."

A flush crept up Shelby's neck. "I only just met Matt. I certainly haven't slept with him. Are you calling me a slut?"

Blossom appeared from down the hall. "What's all this racket about? I heard your loud voices in the kitchen."

Isabelle glared at her. "Butt out. This is none of your business."

Blossom's annoying little dog darted into the living room, growling and baring its teeth at Isabelle.

"Stop that!" Isabelle demanded of the dog, which made it growl more fiercely.

"Don't blame her," Blossom said. "She's merely protecting me from the likes of you."

When Shelby picked up the dog, it calmed down, nestling into her arms.

Blossom brushed a lock of Shelby's strawberry-blonde hair off her face. "What's the matter, sweet girl? Are you and your granny having another spat?"

Shelby gave Isabelle the stink eye. "Yes! Izzy accused me of sleeping with a guy I've only known for two days."

Isabelle folded her arms over her chest. "Then where have you been sleeping, if not with that young man? You certainly haven't been in the cottage."

"One of our guests had to cut their stay short due to a death in the family," Shelby explained. "I've been sleeping in their room upstairs."

Isabelle put on her poker face, not letting her relief show. She felt responsible for her granddaughter's safety and was concerned about Shelby's virtue. "Those rooms are off-limits."

Shelby planted her hands on her hips. "Says who? I don't see why they're off-limits. I'm not bothering anyone, and you snore like a freight train."

"And where will you sleep when every room is occupied next weekend?" Isabelle challenged.

"In a lounge chair by the pool if it means not having to share the cottage with you."

Blossom took the dog from Shelby. "All right, ladies, that's enough. Sounds like you two would benefit from having your own space. I have a pull-out sofa. Shelby, you can bunk with me if necessary."

Shelby gave Blossom a thin smile. "Thanks. I may take you up on that."

Isabelle looked down her nose at her granddaughter. "If I'd known you would be this much trouble, I never would have agreed to you coming here."

"You didn't agree. Mom insisted. I was already here when you found out I was coming." Shelby held out her hand. "Pay me what you owe me, and I'll get out of your hair right now. You'll never have to see me again." She gestured at the desk. "If you can manage the reservations better than me, have at it."

Panic struck Isabelle. She could barely get breakfast on the table, and she didn't need the added responsibility of reservations. "Calm down, Shelby. We can work this out. We're family."

"You have some nerve lecturing me about family after what you did to Savannah and Pritchard."

The color drained from Isabelle's face. "What're you talking about?"

"I don't know exactly. Harper wouldn't tell me. But you had something to do with her adoption. How could you do that to your own flesh and blood?" Shelby brushed past Blossom as she fled the room and dashed up the stairs.

"What an ungrateful child." Isabelle stumbled over to the sofa and collapsed onto the soft down cushions.

Blossom sat down beside her with the dog on her lap. "What did you do to Savannah and Pritchard?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "As if you don't already know."

Blossom appeared genuinely confused. "I have no clue what you're talking about. But it sounds like you have unfinished business with your family."

"Humph. That business is in the past. No one even thinks about it anymore."

Blossom arched an eyebrow. "Clearly, they do."

"I've had enough drama for one day." Isabelle pressed a hand to her chest. "Please leave me in peace before I have a heart attack."

"I can't do that," Blossom said with a stubborn shake of her head. "I'm here on assignment. You're stuck with me until I complete my mission."

"Who sent you? Was it Edward? Are you even real?" Isabelle massaged her temples. "Or am I imagining all this? If you're a miracle worker, give me back my life."

"Going back in time is impossible, Isabelle. My job is to help you cope with your new life. The sooner you accept me, the sooner we can work on sorting you out."

"I don't need sorting out, thank you very much."

Isabelle got up from the sofa and left the house for the safety of her cottage. She stretched out on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. "Why, Edward? Why are you tormenting me? You never thought I needed sorting out when you were alive."

Deep down inside, Isabelle knew that wasn't true. Her husband had hounded her to take ownership of her mistake. But apologizing was the one thing she could never do.

* * *

Shelby stood at the window in her room, staring at the ocean. With this view, her grandmother could and should charge more for the oceanfront rooms.

Her head throbbed from holding back her emotions, but she refused to let Izzy make her cry. There was so much Shelby didn't understand. She needed to talk to someone. For the first time since arriving in the Lowcountry, she felt homesick. She clicked on her mom's number, and the phone only rang once when there was a knock on her door.

Ending the call, she tossed the phone on the bed and went to the door. Worried it might be her grandmother, she said, "Who is it?"

"Blossom," came the muffled voice on the other side of the door.

The dam broke, and Shelby burst into tears. She flung open the door and threw herself into Blossom's arms, squishing the dog between their bodies.

Blossom stroked her back. "There, now. Everything's gonna be all right. Just give it some time."

Jolene let out a yelp, and Shelby pulled away. "I'm sorry, Jolene."

Setting the dog on the floor, Blossom entered the bathroom and ran cold water over a washcloth. "Here," she said, handing the washcloth to Shelby. "This will help with the puffiness."

They sat side by side on the end of the bed as Shelby dabbed at her eyes. "I don't care what Izzy thinks about me. I'm not a slut, and I haven't had sex with Matt. I don't know what's wrong with her. She used to be such a nice grandmother. But she's changed. She's a vindictive old bitch. Whatever she did to Savannah and Pritchard is so bad Harper wouldn't even tell me. I'm not sure I want to be part of the same family as Izzy."

Blossom chuckled. "The greatest gift of family is not in the happy moments but in the unwavering presence and acceptance during difficult times."

Shelby's eyes grew wide. "Whoa. Did you just make that up?"

"Yep." Blossom snapped her fingers. "Just like that. I've got dozens of similar sayings if you want to hear them."

"Maybe later." Jolene pawed at her leg, and Shelby lifted the dog onto her lap. "My mother thinks I'm like my grandmother, that we're both stubborn and headstrong and have chips on our shoulders. Do you think that too, Blossom?"

"It's not my place to judge, baby girl. What matters is in your heart." Blossom touched her finger to Shelby's chest.

Shelby buried her nose in the dog's fur. "Is that why you're here? To fix Izzy and me?"

Blossom let out a deep chuckle, causing her turkey neck to jiggle. "What makes you ask that?"

"You're either a fairy godmother or a guardian angel. Isn't that what they do?"

"I'm not here to fix anyone, Shelby. I can offer guidance. The rest is up to you." Blossom rose slowly from the bed. "I will say this though. If you believe in fairies and angels, you're off to an excellent start."

"I'm curious, Blossom. Who sent you here?"

Blossom took the dog from her. "That's top-secret information, baby girl," she said and vanished from her sight.

Shelby squeezed her eyes tight. When she opened them, the room was still empty. Did Blossom actually disappear before her eyes? Was Shelby losing her mind? Whoever she was, Blossom left Shelby with a sense of hopefulness she hadn't felt in a long time.

In the bathroom, Shelby splashed cold water on her face and pulled her unruly hair into a ponytail. She went downstairs to her desk and spent the next hour poring over their reservations for the next three months. Only one night—the Friday of July Fourth weekend—was completely booked. By rearranging the room assignments, she freed up a tiny room on the second floor of the pool house. With its slanted ceilings and dormer windows, the room offered no closet space and only a glimpse of the courtyard. Despite its shortcomings, Shelby would call this room home for the summer.