Chapter 10 #2
“Yes, the contractor. Who's been here every day actually fixing things instead of just observing them.”
And who was taking her to dinner tonight, she thought but didn't say.
Her stomach did a little flip at the thought.
She'd agreed in a moment of weakness, or maybe strength; she couldn't tell anymore.
But the idea of sitting across from Ben, of having a conversation that wasn't about family drama or renovation budgets or Pop's decline, felt like something she both wanted desperately and feared in equal measure.
Before Tom could respond, they heard boots on the porch. Ben knocked and entered, a courtesy he'd maintained despite basically living at the inn during daylight hours.
“Katie, about dinner tonight. What kind of food do you like? I was thinking…”
Ben stopped short when he saw the full kitchen, taking in the brothers, their equipment spread across the table, the feeling of a family summit in progress.
Kate's breath caught slightly. He was wearing his work clothes, jeans worn soft and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms marked with the small scars and calluses of honest work. His hair was still damp from his morning shower.
Their eyes met across the crowded kitchen, and something passed between them. A reminder of tonight, of the promise of a few hours away from all this. She felt her cheeks warm and looked away quickly, but not before catching Dani's knowing smirk.
“Sorry, didn't realize you had company this early.”
“Ben, you remember my brothers,” Kate said, her voice carefully neutral, though she was acutely aware of how she must look. No makeup, old clothes, hair probably standing up at odd angles.
“Good to see you again.” Ben shook hands with both men, his grip firm but not challenging.
Kate noticed how he assessed them quickly, the same way he'd evaluate a structure.
Tom, wound too tight, compensating with controlled precision.
And James, exhausted but maintaining a cheerful facade, energy flagging beneath the surface.
“Staying long?” Ben asked casually, though his eyes flicked to Kate with a question.
“Indefinitely,” Tom said, and Kate saw Ben's eyebrows raise slightly.
“That's great. Extra hands always help with renovations. Lot of work to do here.”
“Exactly,” James said with forced brightness. “Family should stick together during big transitions.”
Ben's eyes found Kate's again, and this time she saw concern there, maybe a question about tonight, about whether she'd need to cancel.
She gave a tiny shake of her head. No. She needed tonight now more than ever, needed something that was just hers, not about family obligations or failing inns or brothers with secrets.
“I should get started on that roof section,” Ben said, reading the room with the intuition she was coming to appreciate. “Weather report shows rain coming in this afternoon. Want to get the vulnerable area sealed.”
“Need any help?” James offered suddenly. Everyone looked at him in surprise. “What? I can hold a hammer.”
“Since when?” Tom asked.
“Since... recently.” James's voice carried an odd desperation. “I've been thinking about working with my hands more. You know, tangible results instead of...” He trailed off, but Kate heard what he didn't say. Instead of whatever was falling apart in California.
Ben glanced at Kate, then nodded slowly. “Sure. I could use an extra pair of hands. You got work clothes?”
“I'll find something,” James said, seeming relieved to have an excuse to escape whatever interrogation was building.
After they left, Kate watched through the window as they climbed to the roof. Ben was patient, showing James how to position the ladder, how to distribute his weight on the old roof. James was eager, almost desperately so, like physical labor might solve whatever he was running from.
“He's taking you to dinner tonight?” Dani said, appearing at her elbow.
“It's not a big deal.”
“The way you two look at each other says otherwise.”
“We don't look at each other in any particular way,” Kate protested, but she could feel heat rising in her cheeks.
“Right. That's why you're blushing just thinking about it.”
“I'm not...” Kate touched her face, which was indeed warm. “Shut up.”
Tom had returned to his laptop, but Kate noticed he kept glancing at his turned-off phone like it might bite him. Whatever was happening in Boston, it was bad enough that he'd rather face family chaos than deal with it.
They were saved from further discussion by Lillian's arrival.
She swept in through the front door without knocking, a habit that set Kate's teeth on edge.
She was dressed impeccably as always, though Kate noticed she moved more carefully than she had even a week ago, one hand trailing along the wall for support she'd never admit to needing.
Lillian stopped when she saw Tom at the table, his legal fortress of papers and technology spreading across the surface.
“Thomas.” Her voice was carefully neutral, decades of breeding keeping any surprise from showing. “I didn't expect to see you.”
“Lillian.” Tom stood, formal as always with their grandmother. “Dani suggested we should be more involved with the transition. James and I agreed.”
“I see.” Lillian's sharp eyes took in the excess luggage visible in the hallway, Tom's defensive posture, the way he kept his phone turned off like he was hiding from something. “How wonderful to have the family together. Though I'm surprised your firm could spare you.”
Something flickered across Tom's face, gone before Kate could identify it. “The senior partners understood this was a family matter requiring attention.”
It was lawyer-speak, Kate realized. Technically true but deliberately vague. She wondered what Tom wasn't saying. Had he been fired? Forced to take leave? The Tom she knew would never voluntarily step away from his career, not unless something had gone catastrophically wrong.
“And James? The tech world is so demanding.”
“Working remotely for now, although right now he’s outside, working with the contractor,” Tom answered for his brother, another sign something was off. James always spoke for himself, usually at length about his work.
“How nice,” Lillian murmured, and Kate heard the skepticism in her tone.
Lillian moved to the coffee pot with studied casualness, but Kate caught her slight stumble, the way she gripped the counter for a moment. “Well, since you're here, we should discuss the designer's proposals. Martin has wonderful ideas for the guest rooms.”
“Actually,” Dani said, producing fabric samples from seemingly nowhere, “that's why I thought we should all be here. I thought it would be nice for our brothers to have a say. These decisions affect our family legacy.”
As they moved to the dining room to discuss renovations, Kate found her attention drifting.
Through the window, she could see Ben and James standing by the truck, talking.
Ben was teaching James how to lay shingles, their movements synchronized despite James's obvious inexperience.
There was something soothing about watching Ben work, the steady competence of it, the way he made everything look fixable.
Tonight. Dinner. Just the two of them.
The thought made her stomach flutter again, a sensation she hadn't felt in so long she'd forgotten what it meant. Anticipation. Maybe even excitement. When was the last time she'd looked forward to something that was just for her?
“Katherine?” Lillian's sharp voice cut through her thoughts. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Sorry, what?”
“The third floor renovations. Converting your mother's sewing room into part of a luxury suite.”
Kate's attention snapped back. “Absolutely not.”
“It's been empty for years,” Lillian pointed out.
“It's not empty. It's...” Kate paused. What was it? A shrine? A museum? A room full of fabric and patterns and the ghost of her mother's dreams? “It's not available for renovation, or for guests.”
“Sentiment doesn't pay bills,” Lillian said, her favorite refrain.
“Neither does erasing every trace of the people who made this place matter.”
The argument continued, but Kate's mind kept drifting to the evening ahead. What would she wear? The navy dress again? Something else? Did she even own anything else appropriate for a date?
Was it a date? Or just dinner between... what? Friends? Employer and contractor? Two people navigating the strange space between professional and personal?
“I need some air,” Kate announced abruptly.
Outside, the March air was sharp and clean.
She could hear hammering, the rhythm steady and sure.
The harbor stretched before her, calm today, boats bobbing gently at their moorings.
The town woke up around them, normal people going about normal lives, not dealing with failing patriarchs and grandmother invasions and brothers with secrets.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Ben: “Your brother's actually not bad at this. Might steal him as an assistant.”
Despite everything, Kate smiled. Then another text: “Still looking forward to tonight. If you need to cancel with everything going on, I understand.”
She typed back quickly: “Not canceling. I need this.”
She deleted the last sentence, typed instead: “Still on for seven.”
His response was immediate: “Good.”
Just that. Good. Simple and uncomplicated, unlike everything else in her life.
Tom appeared beside her on the porch. “Ben seems like a solid guy.”
“He is.”
“You’re having dinner with him tonight.”
”What about it?”
“He shrugged, “Nothing, it’s just I’m worried about you.”
“I'm fine.”
“No, you're not. None of us are.” Tom leaned against the railing, looking older than his thirty-three years. “But maybe that's okay. Maybe it's okay to not be fine sometimes. What is it that they say? ‘This too shall pass.’”
Kate wanted to ask what had happened in Boston, what had driven him here with his phone turned off and his wedding ring missing. But she recognized the walls he'd built, the same ones she had. They were alike in that way, she and Tom, building fortresses of competence to hide their failures.
“Enjoy your dinner tonight,” he said finally. “You deserve something good.”
As he went back inside, Kate remained on the porch, watching Ben and her brother work together.
In a few hours, she'd shower, find something to wear, pretend she knew how to be a person who went on dates.
She'd sit across from Ben and try to be just Kate, not the responsible daughter or the struggling innkeeper or the sister holding everyone together.
The thought terrified her. But beneath the terror was something else, something she'd almost forgotten existed.
Hope.
The day stretched ahead, full of family drama and renovation discussions and Pop's confusion. But at the end of it waited dinner with Ben, a few hours of something normal, something that was just hers.
She held on to that thought like a lifeline as she went back inside to face the chaos of her suddenly expanded family, each of them running from something, each seeking shelter in the inn that might not be able to hold them all.