Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Elaine pushed her cart slowly through Fresh Picks Grocery.
Soft classical music was playing over the loudspeakers, and the other shoppers were moving at a leisurely pace as they did their morning shopping.
Elaine felt comfortable and quiet, although she was feeling a little sleepy.
She hadn’t slept well the night before, fretting as she thought about Audrey’s situation with Clark.
Now she was trying her best to put it from her mind, choosing instead to focus on the long grocery shopping list she held in her hand.
They’d gotten behind in their grocery shopping, and Michelle had brought home pizzas from The Brick Oven the night before.
They were all feeling tired and rattled, Elaine could tell.
Even Michelle, who usually was the driving force of cheerfulness amongst the three of them, had seemed strangely quiet and distracted at dinner.
Elaine peered at one of the items on the list, which had been written in Audrey’s curled handwriting.
It took her a few seconds to realize what it said, but then she recognized the word “noodles.” Elaine always did the shopping for The Birchwood House’s breakfasts, since she’d decided to captain that ship, so to speak, but Audrey typically did the shopping for the other meals, which were just for the three of them instead of a whole dining room full of guests.
Because of her distracted state, however, Audrey had forgotten to go shopping, and that morning Elaine had volunteered to get the job done.
She’d insisted that she loved going grocery shopping, which was true—but she’d left out the fact that she was feeling unusually tired that morning.
She’d just finished stocking her cart with a slew of nonperishable items for their pantry—noodles, soup cans, tomato and alfredo sauce, and even some canned vegetables, although they preferred to buy fresh.
She wanted to make sure they were prepared with extra food in case they ever found themselves in a similar situation again.
I hate to plan for trouble, Elaine thought with a sigh.
Ordinarily, Audrey is very on top of the grocery shopping—and we did have the ingredients for lasagna.
I hate to think that we need to be ready for a time when we’re all too tired to cook and we didn’t make it to the store, but I guess that’s life.
Being ready to cook some easy pasta or just eat canned soup for dinner isn’t a bad thing.
She made a mental note to buy a couple bags of frozen meatballs, even though those weren’t on the list. They usually made meatballs from scratch, but that was because they liked to cook.
She knew it would be smart to be prepared for more days when they weren’t up for making an elaborate meal.
She didn’t know how much longer Clark would be in town, and if he continued to stay, he was going to continue to drain all their energies.
She made her way to the freezer aisle, perusing the frozen items with interest. She decided to pick up a few frozen pizzas as well.
Those were always good in a pinch. She was just about to grab a couple when she felt her phone buzz in the pocket of the sweater she was wearing, and she pulled it out curiously.
It was a text from Audrey, and her heart sank before she opened it.
Somehow, she knew instinctively that it was bad news.
“Oh no,” she murmured as soon as she read what Audrey had sent.
Audrey’s message had been brief, but Elaine could sense her daughter’s distress even though she hadn’t stated that she was upset. Clark had texted her, threatening legal action if she didn’t hand over the grandfather clock.
Elaine shook her head, feeling fiercely protective of her daughter.
She felt sure that Clark was just bluffing—what legal action could he possibly take?
The clock belonged to Audrey, and the Sutton family.
Just because it had belonged in Clark’s house once didn’t mean that it belonged to him now. Right?
She quickly typed out an encouraging text to Audrey, telling her to stay strong. She assured her that Clark was not going to get the clock, and that they would be able to stop him somehow and get him to leave Coral Sands.
She sent the text and was just about to slip her phone in her pocket when she got an email notification.
It was an email from a magazine that she didn’t subscribe to, and she clicked on the email curiously.
She sucked in her breath, her heart pounding when she saw that it was from the editor of a magazine, informing her that The Birchwood House had been featured in one of its articles.
Oh my goodness, she thought. Another one! I know it’s impractical to keep freaking out every time we get a review, but I don’t think I can help it! My hands are shaking.
She didn’t want to wait to read the article, and she looked it up online as she stood in the middle of the freezer aisle. Other customers milled past her, perusing the freezers in a nonchalant manner.
Her eyes raced across the words of the article, and it soon became clear that it was another stellar review.
The author gushed about how charming The Birchwood House was, and how they were leaning into the season of autumn, making the mansion the perfect weekend getaway for anyone whose favorite season was fall.
Elaine let out a yelp of excitement, unable to stop herself. The customers surrounding her paused and glanced at her curiously—and in one case, disapprovingly—but she didn’t care what they thought. She was wild with excitement.
I need to tell Shep, she thought, suddenly feeling an involuntary urge to run to Townsend’s and give him the news. She looked down at her grocery list and shook her head a moment later. I can’t possibly finish the shopping right this second. I’m too distracted. I’ll come back to it.
She pushed her cart to the front of the store, looking around for a place where she might be able to leave it. She pushed it in front of a display of cookies and then she tried to push it in front of one of the closed registers.
None of this will do, she thought, biting her lip. I’ll just tell the store I need to leave and come back. I won’t be a minute.
“Excuse me,” she said, hurrying up to one of the check-out clerks. “I need to leave my cart here. Nothing in it is perishable. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
“Um, sure,” said the clerk. “That’s… fine.”
Elaine hardly waited for him to finish his sentence.
She beamed at him, leaving the cart in the empty lane next to his open register and darted out the front door of the grocery store.
Townsend’s was only a short walk from Fresh Picks Grocery, but by the time she arrived at the bakery, she was out of breath.
She never stopped to ask herself why she needed to talk to Shep about the review. She could have called Michelle or Audrey, or one of her friends. She never even considered those options. She simply raced toward Shep as if she was dutifully following a script that had already been written for her.
The bakery was bustling with customers, but she pushed her way through the line and rushed past a bewildered Iris, straight for the kitchen.
She hardly stopped to think about the fact that it was a forbidden zone that Shep probably didn’t want her to intrude on, no matter how much he liked her.
She simply knew that she felt an urgent need to show him what was making her so happy.
“Shep!” she said, her face lighting up when she saw him. He was in the middle of making bread, and there was flour all over the counter, as well as on his hands and his apron. There was even a little smudge of flour on the end of his nose.
“Elaine!” He froze and stared at her, but he didn’t look upset. As a matter of fact, if Elaine had been a little less distracted she might have noticed that he looked a little starstruck.
“We got another review!” she blurted, bouncing up and down like an excited child. “Another magazine wrote an article about The Birchwood House, and it’s every bit as glowing as the last one was!”
“What?” Shep made a motion as if he wanted to take her by the shoulders and keep her still. “Elaine, I can’t understand what you’re saying.” He reached for her again, a bit less tentatively, and then he pulled his hands back because they were covered in flour.
Elaine didn’t care at all about the flour.
She took his hands in hers and began to dance with him around the kitchen, laughing as she twirled around.
Shep looked dazed for a few moments, and he lumbered along with her like a bear trying to walk on two legs for the first time, but then he started to relax into it.
He spun around with her to the rhythm of an imaginary song, giving her a bemused smile.
“One more time,” he said a bit breathlessly once they finally stopped dancing. “What did you say? Something good happened—I gathered that much.”
“We got another review,” Elaine gasped, speaking much more slowly because she was out of breath herself. “A really good one. And this magazine is even bigger than the last one was.”
“That’s wonderful news.” Satisfaction glinted in Shep’s eyes. “I knew you could do it. I’m sure there will be many more stellar reviews after this.”
“Soon we’re going to be booked up for months,” Elaine said, shaking her head in wonderment as a little burst of gratitude exploded in her chest. “We’ve got all sorts of bookings going into November, and people have already sent emails about coming and staying at the hotel during Christmas.”
“Wonderful.” Shep’s grin was real and encouraging. Elaine could hardly believe he was capable of making such a joyful expression.
She squealed and threw her arms around him, upsetting the bowl of dry ingredients with her hand. It flung a cloud of flour into the air, and the white powder swirled around them, dusting their shoulders and hair like a light frosting of snow.
During the first second of the hug, Shep stayed rigid, clearly startled by the embrace. Elaine, undaunted by his hesitation, just hugged him harder.
He’s my best friend, she realized, and the revelation was so shocking and so delightful that she started to laugh.
Shep started to laugh too, and he hugged her back. They stood in the middle of Shep’s kitchen, hugging for a long time, covered in flour and laughing.