Chapter Thirty-Three
Belinda decides that since the Cavanaugh party is joining the group tonight, she’ll host in the lobby instead of in the Purl.
She’s always wanted to throw a big celebration in that space. And now, since there isn’t a single guest at the inn who isn’t
also coming to the party, it’s the perfect chance to experiment with transforming the space from functional to festive. Maybe
her last chance.
She pushes that thought away.
The lobby doesn’t have the dramatic water views of the Purl, but it has the grandeur of its history. She strings lights along
the mantel and railings, sets out a few baskets of pumpkins and gourds, and programs a playlist with songs from Norah Jones,
Jackson Browne, the Lumineers. The corner just past the front desk is a perfect space for a self-service bar, with a side
table that can serve as a nice little station for mulled cider and cinnamon sticks.
The front door opens, bringing a gust of fresh cool air—along with Max’s return.
Belinda stands from the crouch position she’d been in, arranging a garland of faux autumn leaves around the lobby stair’s
banister.
“I’m surprised to see you back so soon,” she says. She doesn’t mean it to come across as negative, but Max looks mildly wounded.
“Well, one of the places I was going to look at fell through. But the place on Chestnut is in mint condition. There’s no way
it will still be on the market by the time we’re ready to make an offer. But it’s good to know things like that are out there.”
She turns back to the garland, willing him to stop talking. She doesn’t want to hear any more. He’ll ruin her weekend if she
allows it.
“So, the good news is, I can come to your shindig tonight after all,” he says.
She stops weaving the garland in between the wooden slats, her body going still.
“You really don’t have to. I shouldn’t even have brought it up,” she says. There’s a beat of silence, but she keeps her back
to him.
“Well,” he says finally. “I want to.”
Belinda stares straight ahead at the stairs, blinking back tears. “I actually don’t want you to come. It’s just going to remind
me what’s going on with this place . . . the sale . . . everything I’m trying not to think about.”
Behind her, she feels him move closer until his arms encircle her. She lays her head back against his shoulder, trying to
feel connected. But the simple joy she felt decorating a moment earlier is gone, replaced by a sinking sense of dread.
Someone calls out her name. She and Max move in tandem, turning around to find Hannah Elise standing near the front desk.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Hannah Elise says.
“No—no, not at all.” Belinda straightens her cardigan and crosses the room to be closer to her. “I’m glad you stopped by before
things get busy. Change of plan: We’re still having the Sip Maggie ended up with a connection to the fashion industry after all.
Piper’s career is a precious, unexpected consolation prize.
And how was she supposed to know that Piper was unhappy modeling? She distinctly remembers watching the movie The Devil Wears Prada together. They both agreed with Meryl Streep during that last Paris scene, when her character turns to Anne Hathaway and says—of
the absurdities and sacrifices of life in fashion—“Don’t be ridiculous, Andrea: everyone wants this.” They had agreed! And so no, she doesn’t think she missed some big clue. If Piper had been unhappy, she’d hidden it from
her. The realization gives Maggie a sense of deep loneliness.
When is this class going to start? She checks her phone for the time and sees a text from Aidan.
I hope things went better between you and Piper than with me and Cole. Time for a drink tonight? Before the festivities?
It’s tempting. She can confide in him. Tell him what’s going on without the risk of judgment. Aidan, of all people, can relate.
But she can’t commit to slipping away for some time with Aidan. She has one night left to salvage what’s left of their mother-daughter
weekend, and that’s her priority.
Belinda walks into the room, apologizing for the delay, assuring everyone the workshop will start in just a few minutes. Then
she turns to Maggie. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Um, sure.”
What now? Maggie thinks, following her out into the hall. Had Belinda witnessed her argument with Piper? Or maybe she ran into Piper
and saw she was upset.
“What’s going on?” she says anxiously.
“I know this is a big ask,” Belinda says, wringing her hands. “But can you teach this workshop?”
“This one as in here, now?”
“Yes.”
“What about Hannah Elise?”
“It appears Piper’s agent stole her away from us.”
It’s surprising, but not as surprising as it should be. After all, Maggie had been the one to introduce them. Maggie presses
her hand to her forehead. What more could go wrong?
She wants to help out—she feels partially responsible for Gretchen Lundgren showing up in New Hope in the first place. But
she’s not sure she’s capable of teaching something as advanced as the Shetland Hap.
“I don’t mean to put you on the spot,” Belinda adds. “It’s your vacation.”
“You’re not putting me on the spot. I’m just not sure I can do a good job.”
Belinda reaches out and puts a hand on her shoulder. “I’m willing to take that chance. If you are.”
Sure. Why not? What’s the worst that can happen? With knitting, even when she messes up, she knows how to fix it.
If only life were more like knitting.