Chapter 3
K athleen adjusted the checkered tablecloth spread across the coffee table in her Victorian home. It wasn’t the fancy dining table she imagined would one day fill the room, but the house and her furniture were a work in progress.
She glanced through the bay windows and smiled. Even if she was living in a partially completed construction site, the view remained spectacular. Flathead Lake stretched endlessly toward the mountains, painted in shades of amber and rose by the setting sun.
“This is perfect,” Isabel said as she sat on the floor. “Who needs a formal dining room when you have a view like this?”
“Speak for yourself,” Lynda laughed, attempting to find a comfortable position against a cushion. “My knees are reminding me that I’m not twenty anymore.”
Susan emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray laden with sandwiches, apple pies, and a bottle of wine. “Picnic dinners are underrated,” she declared. “I love that there’s no fuss or formal courses. It’s just good food and better company.”
Kathleen poured wine into four mismatched glasses. Everything about this evening felt wonderfully relaxed, from the casual meal to the paint-spattered drop cloths that served as their flooring. After the busy day at the café, she’d been looking forward to spending time with her dearest friends.
“I still can’t believe you bought this place,” Lynda said, accepting her wine and gazing around the room. “The potential is incredible, but the amount of work...” She gestured at the exposed beams on the ceiling and the half-stripped wallpaper on the far wall.
“Some days I wonder what I was thinking,” Kathleen admitted. “But then I wake up to that view, or I see how a room transforms with just a coat of paint, and I remember why I fell in love with it.”
“Your home will be stunning when it’s finished,” Isabel assured her. “And you’re doing so much of the work yourself. That takes a lot of skill and patience.”
Kathleen smiled as she thought of the hours her daughter and son-in-law had spent here. “Natalie and Gabe have been wonderful, and so have you and Lynda. Susan’s even given me advice from Georgia. I wouldn’t have finished as much as I have without everyone’s help.”
Susan raised her glass. “To Kathleen, her helpers, and everyone who’s been brave enough to start over.”
They clinked glasses, and Kathleen felt the familiar warmth that came from being surrounded by women who truly understood her. Their friendship had sustained her through her divorce, through the challenges of starting the café, and now through this ambitious renovation project.
“Speaking of starting over,” Isabel said, “I had an interesting conversation with Frank today. A friend of his is looking at investing in a new resort that’s being built about an hour from here.”
“Really?” Kathleen set down her sandwich. “I haven’t heard of any large-scale developments happening in this part of Montana.”
“There’s definitely something happening,” Isabel mused. “Someone in our reading group has been approached by a company that wants to buy a large parcel of land by Finley Point.”
Kathleen placed a sandwich on her plate. “Everything changes. Most of the people I know seem to be looking for something different in their lives.”
Lynda nodded thoughtfully. “It was the same for me. Sometimes you need to step away from everything familiar to figure out who you are. We should ask Mabel if she’s heard anything about the development.”
“I’ll leave you to do that,” Susan said with a smile. “The last time I spoke to Mabel, she gave me a lecture about work/life balance.”
Kathleen grinned. “Did you listen to her?”
“For about a week,” Susan replied. “When two of my ovens died at work and the water pipes burst in my apartment, I had to throw all thoughts of having a social life out the window.”
Isabel picked up a sandwich. “If Lynda and I can change our lives, there’s hope for you, too.”
As the conversation drifted from Isabel’s progress with the bookstore to Lynda’s foster animals, the easy flow of topics felt as natural as breathing—the way it always had with Kathleen’s friends.
Unlike Isabel and Lynda, Susan grew quieter as the evening progressed. She picked at her food and seemed lost in her thoughts, only half-listening to the conversation around her. When Lynda asked her about a recent wedding she’d catered, Susan’s response was unusually brief.
During a lull in the conversation, Kathleen touched Susan’s arm. “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. Is everything okay?”
Susan set down her wine glass and bit her bottom lip. For a long moment, she didn’t speak.
“There’s something I need to tell you all.” Susan took a deep breath. “I’m thinking of selling my catering business. The success has been wonderful, but it’s consuming my life. I know it’s crazy to give it all up, but each day feels like I’m running a marathon.”
The admission hung in the air like a stone dropped into still water.
Isabel reached across the table and squeezed Susan’s hand. “It doesn’t sound crazy at all. It sounds like you’re being honest about what you need. But this is a big decision. Have you talked to anyone else about it?”
“Not yet.” Susan’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I built my business from nothing. It was my dream after my divorce, my proof that I could succeed on my own. Selling it feels like I’m giving up on myself.”
“Oh, honey,” Kathleen said softly. “Recognizing your limits isn’t giving up—it’s wisdom. And you’ve already proven everything you need to prove. You turned your dream into reality. Maybe now it’s time to dream about something else.”
Lynda leaned forward, her expression earnest. “You’ve created something amazing. But you don’t have to sacrifice your happiness to maintain it. What would you do if you weren’t catering twenty hours a day?”
“I don’t know,” Susan said, and the uncertainty in her voice was heartbreaking. “For so long, the business has been my entire identity. I’m not sure who I am without it.”
Lynda sent Susan a reassuring smile. “You’re the woman who remembers everyone’s birthday, who sends care packages when people are sick, and who flew here to help Kathleen move into her home. The business is something you do, not who you are.”
Kathleen nodded. “You opened your catering business because you wanted to create beautiful experiences for people. That desire doesn’t disappear just because you sell the company. You could do that anywhere—including here.”
Susan looked up, surprise flickering across her face. “Here?”
“Why not?” Kathleen gestured around the room. “Sapphire Bay could use someone with your talents. Think about all the weddings, corporate retreats, and family reunions that happen around the lake. You could start small and choose events that bring you joy.”
“You could even partner with local businesses,” Isabel suggested. “The bookstore hosts events that need catering. I bet the bed-and-breakfasts would love to work with someone who does intimate dinners.”
Lynda nodded. “And you’d have three friends who’d be your biggest supporters and your most honest critics.”
Susan wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Not simple,” Kathleen corrected. “But possible. Change doesn’t have to be terrifying.”
Susan sighed. “I always thought success meant bigger and busier. More clients, more events, and more revenue. But somewhere along the way, I stopped enjoying baking delicious food and started feeling like I was drowning in spreadsheets and logistics.”
“Success can mean different things at different stages of our lives,” Kathleen said. “When I opened the café, success meant proving I could run a business on my own. Now, success means having time to appreciate moments like this—good friends, good food, and a view that takes my breath away.”
“Plus,” Isabel added with a mischievous grin, “if you moved here, you could help us keep tabs on Kathleen’s flirtation with Patrick.”
“Isabel!” Kathleen felt heat rise to her cheeks.
Susan’s eyes widened. “What flirtation?”
“There’s no flirtation,” Kathleen protested, but even she could hear the lack of conviction in her voice.
Lynda laughed. “The woman’s blushing like a teenager. There’s definitely something happening with Patrick.”
“He comes to the café most mornings for coffee,” Kathleen admitted. “We talk about the construction project and about his grandsons. It’s just friendly conversation.”
“Uh-huh,” Susan said, clearly not buying it. “And do you have friendly conversations with all the construction workers?”
“That’s different. Patrick’s...” Kathleen searched for the right words. “He’s easy to talk to. He listens when I tell him about the house renovation, and he gives good advice. When my car wouldn’t start last month, he spent his lunch break helping me figure out what was wrong.”
“Sounds like more than friendship to me,” Isabel observed.
Kathleen looked at her three friends. They were watching her with expressions of fond amusement and genuine care. If anyone could understand the complicated feelings she was developing for Patrick, it would be them.
“I’m scared,” she admitted quietly. “I’ve been on my own for so long, and I’m finally comfortable with my independence. What if I’m misreading the situation? What if I risk our friendship and lose one of the best relationships I have in Sapphire Bay?”
“What if you’re not misreading it?” Lynda countered gently. “What if he’s feeling the same way?”
Susan nodded. “From what I saw on my last visit, Patrick lights up when he talks about you. And didn’t you say he offered to help with your house renovation?”
“He’s already given me some pointers,” Kathleen said. “But he’s a professional contractor. He’d probably help anyone who asked.”
“Maybe,” Isabel said. “Or maybe he’s looking for excuses to spend more time with you.”
“I have an idea,” Susan said suddenly. “Isabel and Lynda have already taken big leaps of faith. What if Kathleen and I push our comfort zones? I’ll seriously explore selling the business and maybe starting something smaller here.”
“And Kathleen could stop overthinking her relationship with Patrick and see where it leads,” Lynda said with a grin.
“That’s a big leap,” Kathleen said with a frown.
“Frank told me the biggest changes often start with the smallest steps,” Isabel said. “And we’ll all be here to support you through whatever happens.”
Kathleen looked around at her friends. “All right,” she said finally. “But I get to define what ‘seeing where it leads’ means.”
Susan held out her hand to Kathleen. “It sounds like we have a deal.”
With a firm handshake, Kathleen smiled. “We do. I have no idea what I’ll do about Patrick, but I’ll give it my best shot.”
As they cleaned up the remains of their picnic dinner, Kathleen felt a sense of anticipation she hadn’t experienced in years. Change was coming. And, for the first time in years, it felt like an adventure instead of a threat.