Chapter 8

eight

I sabelle spent much of Saturday afternoon searching for a new home. She toured at least a dozen available apartments, cottages, and condos. A garage apartment at a seedy rancher in the middle of the boondocks five miles outside of town was the only one she could afford. And Isabelle drew the line at living in a place with rat droppings, roaches, and rotted floorboards.

She stopped by the cemetery to visit her husband on her return trip home. She had some things to get off her chest, and she was grateful no one else was around. She knelt in the grass beside his grave. "Why did you do this to me, Edward? You've upended my life with this circus of strangers currently occupying our home. You wanted this, not me. I can see you now, holding court in your study, sharing your expensive scotch, and telling your rapt audience about your extensive rare book collection." She ran her fingers across his name, etched in the granite headstone. "If only you hadn't gotten sick, you could've fulfilled this dream and left me out of it."

Isabelle plucked the weeds from the dirt surrounding his headstone. "You were such a fine man, Edward, a dear person, a much kinder human than me. You would've given the shirt off your back to a stranger in need. I'm a selfish old bitty, too stuck in my ways for such a drastic change. That iron-clad will of yours is holding me hostage. The only way out for me is the road to the poor house. And I can't be poor. Not at my age. So, I'm stuck being the mistress of Magnolia Shores B&B.

Isabelle slowly rose to her feet. "I won't be the one who denies you your dying wish. I came from nothing, and you gave me everything. I'll honor your memory by fulfilling your dream as repayment for the beautiful life you provided me. But how? We've gotten off to a rocky start, and I could really use some guidance. Lord knows I should have paid more attention when you were rambling on about your elaborate plan. If only you had written your ideas down. Understanding your vision better would help me find my way."

* * *

Shelby faced a barrage of emergencies on Saturday afternoon. Three toilets overflowed, one of which happened when the O'Connell kid tried to flush his stuffed turtle. A guest ignored the property's no-smoking policy and caught an outside trash can on fire with a cigarette butt. And Silas had to intervene in a couple's argument when the wife threatened to poke her husband's eyes out with her knitting needles. Shelby went beyond the call of duty to help one poor guest book an airline ticket to Utah when her elderly mother died unexpectedly.

In addition to putting out fires, Shelby managed a constant stream of requests from guests throughout the day. They needed everything from sunscreen and pool floats to beach chairs, towels, sandwiches, snacks, and alcoholic beverages. The sweltering heat also drove a constant demand for bottled water. Shelby diligently added these items to her growing list and promised to discuss the requests with management.

Meanwhile, the phone rang off the hook with inquiries about future reservations. During her few free moments, Shelby set up the new computer and researched reservation systems. By the time Pritchard stopped by with Savannah and Harper around four o'clock, she was utterly unhinged, her nerves frayed. Judging by their bathing suits and cover-ups, Shelby realized they had spent a relaxing day on the water in their boat while she had been holding down the fort here alone. If Pritchard expected her to be the manager, he needed to pay her accordingly.

A stranger might mistake the threesome as friends instead of mother, father, and daughter. Harper was prettier than Shelby remembered from the wedding. She was a real head-turner with white-blonde curly hair, sun-kissed cheeks, and sparkling blue eyes. Shelby experienced a pang of envy at the glimpse of Harper's yellow bikini and toned muscles through her crocheted coverup. Shelby was thin with curves in the right places, but she would kill to have such well-defined muscles.

"How're things going?" Pritchard asked. "I see you got the computer running."

"So far today, we've had a trash fire, multiple overflowing toilets, and an argument between two of our guests," Shelby said, ticking the problems off her fingers. "We were not prepared to open this weekend, and you're not paying me enough to do all this alone."

Pritchard frowned. "No one expects you to do this alone, Shelby. Where's your grandmother?"

Shelby tossed up her hands. "I have no idea. Her car's gone. I haven't seen her since this morning. She probably ran away. I would, too, if I had wheels. At this point, I'd settle for a golf cart or a bicycle."

Savannah drew her in for a hug. "You poor thing. No wonder you're frazzled. Why didn't you call us?"

Over Savannah's shoulder, Shelby, noticing Harper eyeing her with pity, choked back tears and willed herself not to cry in front of her cousin. "Because this isn't your responsibility. It's mine." She pushed Savannah away and turned to Pritchard. "I can handle the job. I just need the authority to make decisions and a business credit card for purchases." She nodded at the legal pad on her desk. "I made a list of today's requests."

Harper picked up the legal pad and scanned the items. "Pool floats and beach chairs. Wine. Beer. Mimosas. What you need is a bar."

"And a cafe, snack shop, spa, and fitness center," Shelby added.

Harper dropped the legal pad on the desk. "Not having a bar seems like a missed opportunity to make a fortune. And I know just where you should put it."

Shelby, Savannah, and Pritchard followed her into the adjacent paneled library.

Harper ran her fingers across her grandfather's giant mahogany desk. "Replace this behemoth with a custom-made bar." She knocked on the wall behind his desk. "The powder room is on the other side of this wall. You could tap into the plumbing for your sink. Clear off a few shelves for the liquor bottles, add a couple of small tables and some chairs, and you've got yourself a lounge."

"How do you know so much about this stuff?" Shelby asked Harper.

"I'm an interior designer. I have my own firm."

Shelby's eyes grew wide. "Really? That's amazing." She walked over to the French doors. "You might be onto something. We already have plenty of seating on the terrace. Our guests would love to have cocktails served outside. We would have to hire a bartender though. Pouring margarita mix out of a bottle is the extent of my bartending skills."

Harper placed a hand on Savannah's shoulder. "Lucky for us, we have a bartender in the family."

Savannah shook her head. "No way! I already have a job."

Izzy appeared in the doorway. "Are y'all talking about me behind my back?"

Prichard stiffened in alarm. "What? No, Mother! Geez."

"We were discussing turning Edward's study into a bar," Harper said with a mischievous grin that made Shelby wonder if her new cousin was intentionally trying to make their grandmother angry.

"Don't you dare!" Isabelle said. "My husband would roll over in his grave."

Shelby approached her grandmother. "Where have you been? You can't just leave me here all alone."

Izzy's face beamed red. "Don't use that tone with me, young lady. For your information, I was out looking for somewhere to live. I'm sure you'd all like to get rid of me, but unfortunately, I didn't find anything I could afford with the pennies Edward left me. On my way home, I stopped by the cemetery and had a few words with your dear old grandfather. He didn't respond, of course. But I'm hoping he heard me," she said, gazing heavenward.

Shelby scrunched up her face in concern. The pressure was starting to get to Izzy. She'd been a straight-up bitch since Shelby arrived. "I called you a gazillion times. Why didn't you pick up?"

"I'm no good with my phone. I don't even know where it is." Rummaging through her purse, Izzy located her phone and scrolled through her missed calls. "Not quite a gazillion. Why were you calling me anyway? My responsibility to this godforsaken B&B ended at breakfast. It's Silas's job to help you."

Shelby's insides churned in anger. "And Silas was a huge help. An extra set of hands would've been nice. I was under the impression you were more than the cook. Who is running this business? We need some leadership around here. My sorority house operated better than this place."

Izzy's hazel eyes grew wide. "If you're not careful, I will ship you home to your mother."

Shelby stuck out her palm. "Do it! Please! Give me the money, and I'll be out of your hair as quick as I can pack my suitcase and call an Uber." She withdrew her hand. "Never mind. I forgot you don't have any money."

Izzy drew herself to her full height. "How dare you speak to me like that? I am your grandmother."

The two women faced off with nostrils flaring and teeth clenched.

"Shh! Lower your voices. We have guests in the house," Pritchard said, closing the folding doors separating the library from the living room.

"I never asked to be put in this position," Izzy said.

Shelby puffed out her chest. "And neither did I."

Pritchard stepped between them. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Mother. You're acting like a petulant child. If you can't take responsibility for this bed and breakfast, you need to step aside and let me run it."

Savannah sighed. "The truth is, none of you can manage the B&B alone. You're booked solid through the summer. Working together as a team is the only way. With your coordinated efforts, you'll have things running smoothly in no time."

Izzy shot her an icy glare. "Oh, be quiet, Savannah. Save your mumbo jumbo for the staff at that dive restaurant you manage."

Horror filled Pritchard's face. "Mother! You are way out of line. Savannah is only trying to help."

"I don't need her help. I don't need anyone's help." Izzy spun on her heels and stormed out of the house.

Four sets of eyes watched the door slam behind her.

"Should I go after her?" Shelby asked in a tone of uncertainty.

Savannah shook her head. "Indulging her temper tantrums will only add fuel to the fire."

Pritchard placed a hand on the small of his wife's back. "I agree with Savannah. We should let her cool off. She's going through a lot right now, and we should try to be patient. Her life, as she's known it for more than four decades, is over. If she decides that running the B&B is too much for her, I'll set her up in a comfortable oceanfront cottage. But she must give this an honest try first."

"Who knows? Maybe she'll come around," Shelby said, although she had doubts.

Pritchard gave Shelby a half hug. "Regardless of what happens, I'm grateful to have you. I'm sorry you're in the hot seat, but you're doing an excellent job. And I will compensate you for it."

"Thank you, Pritchard. I'm trying." As the words left her mouth, Shelby realized she could be trying harder and complaining less.

"We have much to discuss," Pritchard said. "I'll text you in the morning, and we'll figure out a time to meet tomorrow afternoon."

"That would be great," Shelby said. I've been researching reservation systems, and I can share that information with you."

"We should discuss those options with our web designer. I've already had a couple of discussions with Claire. I'll loop you into those video conferences. Coincidentally, she suggested we take some photographs of the property to use on the website. I realize you don't have time for it this weekend, but maybe you can snap a few images during the week, if you're interested."

Shelby flashed him a broad smile. "I would love that. I took a digital photography class in college."

"That sounds like fun. Dad purchased a high-end Nikon before his diagnosis." Pritchard swept an arm at the cabinets below the bookshelves. "It's in here somewhere if you can find it."

Shelby nodded, her ponytail dancing about her shoulders. "Thanks!"

Savannah gave her a parting hug. "Hang in there, kiddo. Things will get easier. You can always call one of us if you need anything."

Harper hooked an arm around Shelby's waist. "Good to see you again, cuz. I'll stop by tomorrow and check on you. If you're free, we can go for a walk."

"I'd love that. Thanks, Harper."

For the first time since arriving in Water's Edge, hope blossomed inside Shelby. If she was being honest with herself, this was the first time she felt truly good about anything since Luke broke up with her.

* * *

Pritchard maneuvered the boat away from the dock. He'd never felt prouder with his wife on the leaning post to his right and his daughter standing beside him on his left. If only his mother weren't such a pill. Izzy was raining on his parade when she should be waving to the crowd from the leading float.

Harper gripped the console's railing, steadying herself as they crossed the wake from a sportfishing boat returning from the ocean. "Poor, Shelby. I feel bad for her being stuck here with Izzy." She gave Pritchard a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry for always dissing your mom. I wish I had something positive to say about her."

"No need to apologize, sweetheart. Izzy brought this on herself." While Pritchard didn't blame Harper for her negative feelings toward Izzy, hearing her speak so harshly about his mother, her grandmother, hurt his heart. "I admit, I'm not a fan of this new Izzy. She's changed since . . ." His voice trailed off.

"Since Harper and I came back into your life," Savannah said, finishing his sentence.

His shoulders slumped. "Unfortunately, your presence is a constant reminder of her crime. Shelby spent a lot of time here during the summers growing up. She and Izzy shared an amiable relationship. Maybe Shelby will help improve her mood."

"Or maybe Izzy will ruin that relationship as well," Savannah mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

Harper's phone pinged, and she read the text. "Cody just got off work. He wants us to pick him up from the city dock."

Pritchard winked at Savannah. Right on cue . They'd been helping Cody plan the surprise for weeks. Keeping it a secret hadn't been easy.

As they drew near the dock, Harper shielded her eyes from the sun for a better look. "Who's on the dock with him? Looks like a crowd of people in black robes. Is that a choir?"

Pritchard shrugged, unable to hide his mischievous grin. The people in black robes were members of the Southern Harmony Gospel Choir from the local Grace Baptist Church. His wife, a musically gifted songwriter, had worked with the choir director to create a chorale-appropriate arrangement of Randy Travis's "Forever and Ever, Amen" for the occasion. When Savannah expressed concern about Harper not recognizing the song, Cody assured her that her daughter was a huge fan of classic country.

As Cody helped Harper off the boat, the choir belted out the lyrics with rich, resonant voices that filled the air. Savannah lifted her phone, capturing the moment Cody dropped to one knee and opened a black velvet box to reveal the sparkling engagement ring.

Cody waited for the choir to end the song before saying, "I'm gonna love you forever and ever, Harper. Will you marry me?"

Harper knelt to his level. "And I'm gonna love you forever and ever as well. Yes, I will marry you."

He pulled her up and carefully slipped the ring on her finger. The crowd that had gathered at the railing cheered loudly as the choir began singing again.

Savannah rested her head on his shoulder. "Our small family is growing."

Pritchard smiled. "And I couldn't have hand-picked a better son-in-law."