Chapter 7

seven

I zzy was cracking eggs in the kitchen on Saturday morning, watching the sun rise over the ocean through the window, when she heard the front door click shut and someone call out, "Yoo hoo."

As she cracked one last egg, Izzy listened more intently. What was that sound? That clicking noise? She crossed the kitchen to the doorway, peering down the hallway.

A little tricolor dog with long, floppy ears and short legs scampered toward her. A plump woman with flawless caramel skin followed the dog. She wore a long, flowy red dress patterned with pink hibiscus, and her mop of silver coils was fastened on top of her head in a halo of matching hibiscus blooms. On closer inspection, Isabelle realized the flowers were real.

"Morning, ma'am. I'm Blossom. I apologize for my late arrival. I managed to get behind a terrible interstate pileup in Tennessee."

The dog ran circles around Isabelle's feet. "Dogs are not allowed at Magnolia Shores."

Blossom scooped up her dog. "Your website didn't mention a no-pet policy."

The lines in Isabelle's forehead deepened. "We don't have a website."

Blossom wagged her finger at Isabelle. "Then I suggest you get one if you plan to enforce such strict rules."

"I beg your pardon," Isabelle said in an indignant tone. " No pets is not a strict rule. Lots of places don't allow them."

The dog licked Blossom's face. "Not in this day and age. Nearly everyone owns a dog, and they take them everywhere they go. Now, if you don't mind showing me to my room, I'd like to freshen up before breakfast."

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait. Check-in isn't until four o'clock."

"Ma'am! I've just driven over seven hundred miles, and I've already paid for my room for last night."

Isabelle gestured at the mixing bowl and egg cartons on the counter. "As you can see, I'm in the middle of making breakfast."

"Your eggs are scrambled and ready for the pan. Just cover the bowl and place it in the refrigerator."

"What're you talking about?" Isabelle returned to the counter to find both cartons empty, and all the eggs scrambled. "I don't understand . . . How . . . Never mind," she said, shaking her head. She was getting more forgetful by the day .

She covered the bowl in plastic wrap and placed it in the refrigerator. She rummaged through the meat drawer. "Where'd it go?" she said to herself.

Blossom peered over her shoulder, the dog licking at Isabelle's ear. "Can I help you find something?"

Isabelle slammed the refrigerator door and opened the freezer drawer below. "The bacon and sausage I bought from the store yesterday. I specifically remember putting them in the meat drawer." She closed the freezer drawer. "They're not in there either."

"Maybe you already cooked them?" Blossom suggested.

"I'm sure I would remember cooking three pounds of bacon and sausage." Opening the warming drawer, she discovered a platter of cooked breakfast meat inside. Isabelle pressed her fingers to her temples. This is bad. I'm losing my mind. And it's no wonder, considering the pressure I'm under.

Isabelle closed the warming drawer and straightened. "Well then, let's see about checking you in. Come with me."

Isabelle led Blossom back down the hallway to the living room. Sitting at her desk, she studied Shelby's tidy print on the whiteboard. "You're booked for the summer in room three in the garden house. I'll need your credit card information." She opened the center drawer for a pad and pen. "And what's your last name?"

"I don't have one," Blossom said with a deep chuckle. "I've been married so many times I stopped counting husbands. I got tired of changing my name, so I just dropped it. Not having a surname is surprisingly liberating."

"How does one go through life without a last name?" Isabelle's hand shot out. "Never mind. I don't want to know."

Isabelle came from behind the desk and handed Blossom her room key. "I'll make an exception to the rule about the dog as long as you pick up after him and he doesn't disturb the other guests."

"Thank you. And it's a she. Her name is Jolene."

Isabelle arched an eyebrow. "As in Dolly Parton's Jolene?"

"Nope. Jolene Van Vugt. She's a motorcycle racer."

"Never heard of her." Isabelle walked Blossom to the front door. "The garden house is across the courtyard on your right. I trust you can find it. If you'll excuse me, I need to get back to the kitchen."

"Can you help with my luggage first?" Blossom opened the front door to reveal a pale-blue miniature school bus.

Isabelle blinked hard. "What on earth is that?"

"My home. I've lived in so many different places, and I got tired of changing my address?—"

"Let me guess. Not owning a home is liberating."

Blossom jabbed an elbow into Isabelle's ribs. "You're a quick learner."

A man appeared from behind Blossom's bus. Squinting, Isabelle realized he was the bellman Pritchard had hired, the man she had slammed the door on the other day.

"Morning, ladies. I'm Silas, your bellman."

Isabelle gave him a once-over. He had a large build and broad shoulders and wore his sandy hair in a crew cut. His muscles bulged beneath the sleeve of his white polo shirt, and his forearms were tatted up with an intricate design Isabelle couldn't decipher. "Where'd you get a name like Silas?"

Silas pressed his hand against his heart. "My mama got it from the Bible. Silas was a prominent figure who accompanied Paul on his missionary journeys. He is first introduced in Acts?—"

"I know who Silas is," Isabelle said through clenched teeth. "Now, please stop talking and help this guest with her bags." Spinning on her heels, she went back inside to the kitchen.

Isabelle wasn't yet ready when the guests began arriving for breakfast around seven thirty. What happened to sleeping in on vacation? Pearl helped by retrieving the old percolator she once used for bridge parties from the attic and setting up a coffee station on the small buffet in the kitchen.

Pearl's arms were elbow-deep in soapy water when a flustered Hilda came down from upstairs. Gesturing wildly with her arms, she talked so rapidly to Pearl that Isabelle wouldn't have been able to make out what she said if she'd been speaking in English.

Pearl rinsed her hands and dried them on a paper towel. She squeezed Hilda's shoulder and spoke to her calmly in Portuguese.

Hilda inhaled a shaky breath, nodded, and left the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" Isabelle asked Pearl. "Did something get broken in one of the upstairs rooms?"

"The O'Connell's son vomited something red on the carpet. Probably fruit punch. But don't worry. I'm an expert at carpet stains. Can you hold down the fort while I assist Hilda?"

"Of course. We're done here. You can tend to your other duties. Thank you, Hilda."

She waited for the housekeeper to leave before casting her gaze heavenward. Edward, what on earth have you gotten me into?

By the time everyone had been fed and the dishes were done, Isabelle's head throbbed and her feet ached. Popping two ibuprofen, she went in search of a quiet place to rest. Her guests had taken over her home. They occupied nearly every available place to sit in the living room and on the terrace. She even discovered a young couple making out in Edward's study.

Retracing her steps to the kitchen, she exited through the back door and leaned against the terrace railing to gaze over her garden. Manicured boxwoods outlined the rectangular garden's perimeter, while around the small koi pond at the center, an attractive assortment of annuals and perennials burst with colorful blooms.

Isabelle noticed a clump of her prized zinnias fly through the air. What in heaven's name? Gripping the railing for support, she descended the steps and marched across the courtyard. She watched in horror as Blossom's dog dug a tunnel in the dirt.

"Get out of my flowers, you little beast." Isabelle kicked at the dog, missed, lost her balance, and stumbled into a prickly rose bush.

Blossom emerged from the garden house. "Jolene, what have you done?" She snatched up the dirty dog. "I gave her a bone. She likes to hide them in the bushes."

Isabelle jabbed a red manicured nail at the destroyed flowers. "These aren't bushes. They're my zinnias."

Shelby, who was crossing the driveway from the cottage to the main house, spotted the dog and rushed over to them. "Aww. She's so cute. What's her name?"

"Jolene." Blossom cupped the dog's muzzle. "Your granny claims Jolene destroyed her flowers."

Isabelle expelled a breath of indignation. "I am nobody's granny ."

"Her grandchildren call her Izzy," Shelby explained. She looked past Isabelle at the flower bed. "Your flowers look fine to me."

Isabelle's head spun around toward the garden. To her utter disbelief, the dirt tunnel was gone, and the zinnias were intact.

"When's the last time you watered your garden?" Blossom asked.

Isabelle looked more closely at her drooping plantings. She'd been so preoccupied with her court case and opening the B&B that she'd forgotten to water. "Lord, have mercy," she said, smoothing the hair off her forehead. I've had enough of this day, and it's not yet noon. I'll be in my room if you need me."

As she strode to the cottage, she mumbled, "I am not imagining things. I know what I saw. That blasted dog ruined my flowers and dug a tunnel in my garden."

Inside the cottage, Isabelle collapsed onto a mound of her hanging clothes on the sofa and called her attorney. "Alice, I'm sorry to bother you on the weekend, but this is an emergency. I've been invaded by strangers. My husband has turned our home into an amusement park. You must do something! And soon!"

Alice let out an audible sigh. "I was going to wait until after the weekend to tell you the bad news. Judge Buchanan has denied your petition for a retrial."

* * *

Shelby watched her grandmother's elegant frame retreat into the caretaker's cottage before turning her attention to the guest standing beside her. On closer inspection, the woman was the most exotic creature Shelby had ever met with silver hair and sparkling emerald eyes. "Hi! I'm Shelby."

"And I'm Blossom," she said, placing the dog on the ground and extending her hand.

Recognition crossed Shelby's face. "So, you're Blossom. Welcome. When did you arrive?" She gestured at the main house. "If you come inside with me, I can check you in."

"Izzy already did that. I've been here for a couple of hours. I was in my room unpacking when all the commotion started."

Shelby dropped down to the sidewalk, pulling the dog onto her lap. "She's so little. Is she a miniature basset hound? Is there even such a thing?"

"There is, and she is, although they are rare." Blossom's hand disappeared inside the pocket of her dress, producing a round rubber ball. "Here! She loves this."

"Thanks," Shelby said, wondering what else Blossom had hidden inside the deep pockets of her flowery maxi dress.

"I should water Izzy's garden before everything dies." Locating a faucet on the side of the garden house, Blossom dragged the hose across the sidewalk and sprayed a fan of water on the withering plants. "You're a sweet girl to help your grandmother get the bed and breakfast up and running."

"I'm not doing it out of the kindness of my heart," Shelby grumbled. "My parents sent me here."

Blossom glanced over at her. "Uh-oh. That doesn't sound good. What happened?"

Shelby rolled the ball on the sidewalk for Jolene to fetch. "I broke up with my boyfriend. We've been dating since middle school. I was going to marry Luke. Now he's marrying someone else."

"I'm sorry, sugar. How long ago did you two break up?"

"A year. My parents were tired of me going out every night, but I couldn't help myself. I was desperate to see Luke, even if he was usually with Alexis, his fiancée." Shelby's shoulders slumped. "I kept meaning to find a job, but it was easier to stay in bed all day."

"Sounds to me like you were depressed," Blossom said, moving the hose to a new section of the garden.

"I haven't thought about it, but you're probably right." Shelby drew her legs in, resting her chin on her knees. "I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this when I don't even know you."

"Sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger." Blossom finished watering. "There. All better."

Shelby got up from the sidewalk and went to inspect Blossom's work. The entire garden had been revitalized, the greenery lush and the colorful blooms perky. "Whoa. That's amazing. Did you sprinkle magic on them or something?"

Blossom's emerald eyes sparkled, and a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "Something." She coiled the hose beside the spigot where she found it and motioned for Shelby to follow her. "Let's go explore."

Jolene ran beside them as they walked down the dirt path to the beach on the Catawba Sound side of the property. To their right was the long pier where Shelby's grandfather once docked his fleet of boats. Way off in the distance to the left was another of the Lowcountry's barrier islands. Shelby couldn't remember which one.

As they walked in the sand along the surf, Shelby said, "My best friend back home thinks my absence will make Luke's heart grow fonder. Do you think that will happen?" Even if she was a total stranger, Blossom had a genuine air about her that made Shelby feel comfortable asking her such a personal question.

"I don't have a crystal ball, child. But I wouldn't hold your breath. Luke is engaged to another woman now. You need to find a way to let go of the past."

Shelby's eyes filled with tears. "I've been trying. It's not that easy."

When they reached the ocean, they turned with their backs to the water and stared across the dunes at the magnificent sprawling Lowcountry estate.

"You may not see it this way now, but your parents have given you a gift by sending you here. I can think of worse places to be exiled," Blossom said with a chuckle. "Parents love their children. They never intentionally hurt them, although they are sometimes forced to make difficult decisions they believe are in their best interest."

Shelby nodded. "Tough love."

"Exactly. You're at a crossroads, where one life ends and another begins. Concentrate on the new Shelby, the post-Luke you. What do you want out of life? Find your burning passion, that thing that lights your fire."

"I thought Luke was my passion," Shelby said in a small voice.

"Passion comes in many forms. Absence often makes the heart grow fonder but also helps us forget. You've traveled twelve hundred miles to get here, and Luke is in your rearview mirror." Blossom hooked an arm around Shelby's waist and drew her in. "Look at the bright side, baby girl. Maybe your absence will make Grace's heart grow fonder for you."

Shelby's jaw dropped. How did Blossom know her sister's name? Who told this woman about their strained relationship? But before she could interrogate Blossom, Mrs. O'Connell appeared over the dunes, waving and running toward her.

Out of breath, Mrs. O'Connell said, "There you are! I've been looking all over for someone to fix me a Bloody Mary. Do you have a bartender around here?"

"No, ma'am. I'm sorry. As a bed and breakfast, we're only responsible for providing a light morning meal. All other food and drink are your responsibility."

A deep v appeared between the woman's eyes. "But where are we supposed to eat lunch and dinner?"

"There are many charming restaurants in town," Shelby said, making a mental note to create a printed list for the guests.

"This is absurd. I'm paying a fortune for my room, and I can't even get a cocktail around here," Mrs. O'Connell said with a huff and stormed off.

When Shelby glanced behind her, Blossom and Jolene had vanished. She replayed her exchange with the eccentric woman as she made her way up to the pool. Blossom knowing about Shelby's relationship with her sister was only part of it. Izzy claimed Jolene had dug up her flowers, yet Shelby had seen no evidence of destruction in the garden. Moreover, Blossom hadn't denied it when Shelby had jokingly suggested she'd used magic to revitalize the garden.

Who was Blossom, and where had she come from? Had someone sent her here to rescue Shelby? Was Blossom Shelby's fairy godmother?