Chapter 3
3
M imi Pendergrass had welcomed a lot of visitors to the Heart Sent over the years, and each had brought their own unique personality to the bed-and-breakfast. Some were guarded, and skeptical, some chatty, others lovelorn and confused. She’d like to think the bed-and-breakfast had provided a safe haven for them, and the meals she’d shared with each one had been comforting, perhaps even enlightening. Pop told her that while he might not be the Godfather of Magdalena any longer and she may never have taken that title, they both still had work to do.
We’ve been walking this earth a long time, Mimi , he’d said. And we know a thing or three about what makes a solid relationship and how a person can have every material good in the world, but if he isn’t at peace with who he is and what he stands for, he’s emptier than a dried gourd. It’s our job to help who we can, listen, and, if necessary, give a gentle nudge so they can figure out how to get where they need to be,
So very true.
Her newest challenge sat across from her at the moment, devouring fresh-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookies. Nothing like chocolate chip cookies and a cold glass of hibiscus tea to make a person smile and drop their guard. And that’s exactly why she’d set the plate on the table in front of Sam. The boy used to be lighthearted, talkative, happy , but since he’d returned to Magdalena with a chip on his shoulder the size of a watermelon, there hadn’t been a spec of anything close to “happy” in his words. As for “talking”, it went no further than discussions on house renovations, dogs and cats, and his preference for deep dish pizza over thin crust. Mimi had tried to push a bit further into the personal area, but he wouldn’t budge. Not yet, but she wasn’t giving up on him.
The young man had taken a few missteps in the “family and relationship” area, trusted the wrong person, turned his back on his family…become someone he didn’t recognize. That didn’t mean he shouldn’t have another chance to get it right, but darn it all, he had to stop punishing himself for his past choices. Not many men would have been able to see through the dazzle and movie-star beauty of a woman who insisted she only wanted to make him happy. What a shame Sam didn’t realize what she really meant was I’ll TELL you what makes you happy.
But there came a time when a person had to accept what had happened and forgive himself for his part in it. And maybe open his heart to the possibility of finding someone who didn’t define happiness for him but who actually cared about making him happy. Now that would be a sight and a blessing. Mimi would always remember this afternoon when Sam’s “blessing” walked into the Heart Sent. Tall, elegant, auburn hair pulled into a chignon, hazel eyes. Oh, she was a looker, and talk about class? Even without the pearls and silk shirt, there was an air about her that clung to a person like her citrus scent when she walked into a room.
The next thirty days at the Heart Sent would be very interesting. Mimi smiled, extended a hand toward the woman. “You must be Hope. Why don’t you set your luggage aside and join us in the kitchen for a snack?”
“Thank you, Mrs. Pendergrass.” The firm handshake exuded confidence and a certain air about her.
“Please, call me Mimi. The other guest is in the kitchen. I told him while you’re here we’ll be taking meals in the dining room.” She laughed, shook her head. “He insisted cookies and iced tea aren’t a meal.” Another laugh, a sigh. “Chocolate chip. Fresh out of the oven. We best get in there before he eats all the cookies!”
The split-second hesitation and the look on the woman’s face indicated she didn’t know if Mimi was serious or joking. “I don’t want to interrupt anything. If you?—”
Mimi waved a hand toward the direction of the kitchen. “Goodness, you aren’t interrupting anything. Sam and I welcome a newcomer.” The new guest entered the kitchen first, giving Mimi a perfect view of what happened next. Sam glanced up from his phone, and there was no denying the split-second interest and surprise as he took in the new guest. But if one weren’t watching, they would have missed that interest as he cleared his throat, pushed back his chair and stood. “Hi, I’m Sam Harrington, Mimi’s long-term guest.” No smile. No humor. Just fact.
Hope hadn’t moved from her position next to the kitchen table. Mimi stepped around her, darted a glance at her face. Was the woman uncomfortable? Nervous? Maybe shy? Or was that uncomfortable look something else? Time would tell and Mimi would be here to witness it.
“Hope Newland.” The full lips pulled into an almost smile. “I’m here for the next thirty days.” She turned to Mimi, spoke in a quiet but serious voice. “Are we the only guests?”
Ah, she did not seem pleased with that possibility. Now why would that be? Mimi nodded, gestured to the chair next to Sam. “Indeed, you are. I’d say you have the best of both worlds. Not too much commotion, enough quiet to hear your thoughts, and you and I will have quite a bit of time to talk about the Heart Sent.”
The almost smile inched wider, her features relaxed. “I do look forward to that.”
No missing the culture in this woman’s voice, or the way Sam studied her as though he’d been assessing and analyzing the woman since she stepped into the dining room. What would that assessment look like? Mimi hoped he didn’t place Hope Newland in the same category as his ex-wife because not every beautiful, sophisticated woman had a selfish, cruel streak. Of course, Sam might not consider that, but then again, he might be drawn in by the woman’s beauty, no matter how hard he tried to fight it.
The Heart Sent provided its residents a combination of nostalgia and memories that told their own story from the photographs hanging in the hallway to the albums stacked on the table in the sitting room. One need only venture into the sitting room, settle onto a couch plumped with overstuffed, floral pillows and peruse the albums of happily-ever-after couples to feel the nostalgia and the memories.
Pastels created a calm in the bed-and-breakfast and if one ventured to the dining room, the lace tablecloth, cherry hutch, and bouquet of silk flowers as a centerpiece added to the charm. The kitchen was a welcome respite of comfort, smells, and coziness that made a person yearn for simpler times. This bed-and-breakfast was nothing like the one where Hope had lived as a child. The fresh-baked aromas pulled her in, made her consider spending time in the kitchen where stove top and microwave ready weren’t the only choices. Last year, she’d taken a cooking class where she’d learned to make crepes. Hope had wanted Kent to attend the class with her, but he’d merely smiled and claimed the taste tester spot. Sorry, but my schedule’s too busy. Her ex had always been “too busy” for suggestions that didn’t advance his career or personal pursuits. She should not have been okay with that, and the fact that she was, said a lot about their “relationship” and its shaky foundation.
Hope pushed aside her ex and thought about offering to help Mimi this morning with breakfast. It would provide the perfect opportunity to learn more about how the woman ran the place, and it would give Hope a chance to create something that did not involve contracts, spreadsheets, or negotiations. There was so much to learn from Mimi Pendergrass, from the romantic “bridal suite” that included rose petals strewn on the bed to the fresh bouquet of flowers on the nightstand, champagne, and specialty chocolates. The lace curtains, hardwood floors, fancy soaps, and linen hand towels were a nice touch as well. But it was the woman who possessed the ability to pull a person in with genuine warmth and curiosity, as though she truly cared about them.
How to capture that ?
The only way to have a shot at it was to spend more time with Mimi, and hopefully less with the other guest. Sam Harrington, who had the room next to hers, wasn’t big on small talk or the meaning of “cordial”. And why had he been studying her as though she had an ulterior motive for visiting Magdalena, one that was unwelcome and detrimental to the town?
At least he hadn’t hung around longer than the time it took to finish a cookie and gulp down his tea. It was obvious the man didn’t care for politeness or idle chit chat, even though Hope was the only other guest at the bed-and-breakfast. Good, because she only had thirty days to determine the suitability of Magdalena as a model for future bed-and-breakfasts and didn’t need distractions who weren’t on the “must meet” list. Sam Harrington wasn’t an influencer like others on her list, and that made him irrelevant.
Hope should have realized a man like that should never be considered irrelevant, but for someone who’d been taught to analyze and formulate opinions based on data and spreadsheets, she’d missed it with Sam Harrington. That was a huge mistake, one she’d discover soon enough. For the next forty minutes, Hope perused her files and waited for Mimi to join her in the dining room. When the woman appeared with a tray carrying two mugs of coffee and a plate of blueberry muffins, Hope smiled, tried to calculate the calories and grams of fat in one muffin. If she weren’t careful, she’d be a size larger by the time she left town. Still, there was no refusing Mimi’s persuasive tendencies or the smell of her blueberry muffins.
Mimi set the tray on the table, handed Hope a mug. “Fresh brewed, perfect for a chilly morning.” She slid into the chair next to Hope, pointed to the muffins. “They just came out of the oven.”
“They smell delicious.” One muffin, that’s all she’d permit herself, and she’d take a long walk after she and Mimi finished chatting. And she’d refuse the next offer of sweets, and she’d?—
“If you like these muffins, wait until you try my blueberry pie.” Mimi saluted Hope with her mug. “Of course, blueberry pie isn’t complete without vanilla bean ice cream.”
Homemade blueberry pie. Vanilla bean ice cream . How could she resist? She usually limited her sweet consumption to fruit and the occasional piece of dark chocolate. It wasn’t that she didn’t like sweets, but because she loved them—too much. One slice of pie could morph into a third of the pie. One brownie into four. One cookie into…who counted cookies? She’d never been able to control her obsession with sweets, so she’d practiced avoidance. If you didn’t see, smell, or taste it, then it didn’t exist.
But the explosion of confection and sugar had bombarded Hope’s senses the minute she entered the Heart Sent, and it was impossible to pretend they didn’t exist. Hope bit into a blueberry muffin, savored the combination of tart and sweetness. “This is so delicious.”
Mimi nodded, her smile spreading. “I’ll give you the recipe if you like. It’s one of my favorites.”
A recipe to make this deliciousness whenever she wanted? Oh, that did sound dangerous and ill-advised, but Hope couldn’t say no, not when she wanted to gain Mimi’s friendship… “I would love the recipe.”
“I’ll start a list for you.” Those blue eyes twinkled. “This might be a nice addition to the menu at your bed-and-breakfast.”
She was right; it would be a good addition: comforting, homemade, scrumptious. “Thank you.” Hope finished her muffin, eyed a second before turning to Mimi. “I want to get to know more about the people in this town. I’ve made a list of whom I should approach first, and I thought maybe you could give me some guidance?” Hope slid the folder toward her. “Of course, you’re the first person I want to interview. I’d like to hear all about this place, how you decide on the meals, the décor, all of it. Rose petals in the bridal suite and creating albums of couples? That’s brilliant.” She sat back in her chair, tapped her pen against the table. “It lends such an intimate feel that says ‘I care about you’ and ‘the little things matter’.” Hope made a few notes on her laptop, then added, “I want to know everything you’ve done to achieve a connection with your guests.”
The woman’s red ball earrings bounced about as she nodded. “Of course, I’ll help you. This place is a part of me. Every decision I’ve made is about making our guests comfortable and welcoming them to our community. The hibiscus tea, my signature buttermilk biscuits, the homecooked meals, and baked goods all strive to do that.” Her smile spread, her voice filled with emotion. “Couples love the rose petals in the honeymoon suite, and not just the women. Men can be big romantics, too, if you don’t push them.” She let out a soft sigh. “One of my very favorite additions are the photo albums of the meant-to-bes.” She placed a hand on her heart, closed her eyes, and whispered, “There’s so much beauty and joy in Magdalena, and couples who’ve seen that beauty let destiny guide them to happily-ever-after.”
Mimi opened her eyes, leaned toward Hope, and patted her hand. “I’ve seen my share of heartache and heartbreak, and people who believe happiness will never find them. And then, they open their eyes and the miracle happens. They see one another for who they truly are and the impossible becomes possible.” The ball earrings bounced with each nod. “Once you find your way about town and meet a few of the people who live here, we’ll pour a glass of wine, and I’ll pull out the albums and tell you about the couples who stayed at the Heart Sent.” The woman’s voice filled with what could only be called love. “Some still live here, others only visited, but it’s the pure love that helped them find the joy in their heart as they spoke their ‘I love yous’. It’s pure magic, and while there have been problems, even despair, this town and the people in it have pulled couples together and made them see how rare and special true love can be.”
This! This is what made Magdalena a home for so many and it was the Heart Sent that provided a haven for visitors as they learned about the town and the people in it. Mimi Pendergrass and her belief in joy, kindness, and second chances were integral to a successful bed-and-breakfast. Hope would make sure whoever ran their bed-and-breakfasts possessed these same qualities. She wanted to make notes about the photo albums, the quaintness of the kitchen table talks, the lace tablecloth in the dining room, as well as the specialty teas, and homemade goodies. Martin loved “automating” their hotels, but maybe bed-and-breakfasts should not be automated to the point where every item in every location was served on certain days, in a specific rotation, no exceptions. And did the tablecloths have to look exactly the same? What about the dinnerware and the towels? The wallpaper and furniture?
Could they not be more “authentic” and less “manufactured”?
And then there was the whole destiny-meant-to-be philosophy. People wanted to believe in it, so let them! It was a brilliant public relations strategy, and Hope might even be able to get a statement from a few couples. She could see the value in that even if she didn’t buy into happily-ever-after. None of that mattered because her job was to produce the best experience for the customer, and that’s exactly what she planned to do.
Hope turned to Mimi, excitement pulsing through her as she envisioned so much potential with this project. “I want to hear everything, Mimi.” Not many people were as open and willing to share their stories or their secrets, but this woman was indeed special.
“If you can help others enjoy bed-and-breakfasts, then I’m honored to be a small part of it. I’ll help you any way I can.” Mimi reached for the red reading glasses that hung on a beaded chain around her neck. I used to wear these here—” she patted the top of her salt-and-pepper head “—but then I kept forgetting where they were, and it became a joke. Harry Blacksworth got this chain for me, said it matched my personality.” Another laugh, a soft, “I asked for clarification on that remark, and he winked and added words like ‘bold, vibrant, one-of-a-kind’.” She fingered one of the beads, this one red with silver. “Harry certainly is a character. You never quite know what he’s up to, but the man has such a kind heart. Who would have ever thought it would turn out like this?” Her blue eyes shimmered. “You’ll hear the tales soon enough, but let’s say the Blacksworth name was not always welcome or respected in this town. Harry changed that, and we can’t imagine Magdalena without him in it. He’s recently been named the Godfather of this town, took over for our very own Pop Benito.” Those eyes matched the ‘happy’ tone in her voice. “Now there’s a man you have to meet. Pop has more stories than a library and a way of telling them that makes you wish he’d never stop. I’m sure he’ll treat you to a few pizzelles, but don’t accept his wine, no matter how hard he pushes it.” Tsk tsk . “Pop can’t say ‘no’ to Sal Ventori, the man who thinks he’s a winemaker but doesn’t produce anything unless you want to call it vinegar.”
Harry Blacksworth? Pop Benito? Sal Ventori? Hope clutched her pen, stared at the folder in front of Mimi. How was she going to keep the names straight and how could she possibly decide what was important? A detailed spreadsheet was the only way, one that included characteristics, jobs, relationship status, number of children. Animals? Hobbies? Ugh, she’d still need to transfer that data to real life situations, like introductions and conversations. Mimi Pendergrass could guide her toward the most influential people in the town and with her introduction, what could go wrong?