Chapter Thirty-Seven
In the morning, the lobby has changed from chariot back to pumpkin. Belinda works side by side at the front desk to manage
checkout. Lexi and Dove are first in the queue, their luggage bulging with yarn and fledgling projects. Dove exchanges hugs
with Sheila with murmured promises to reunite at a future retreat. At that, Belinda’s stomach drops. She glances over at Max,
but if he heard the comment, he gives no sign. He’s busy juggling key returns and printing out paid receipts.
“Exceeded all expectations,” Lexi says, sliding her key across the desk to her. “Five stars!”
Belinda hands out the gift bags: a New Hope Knitting Retreat tote filled with two skeins of hand-dyed yarn from a local producer,
a copy of Saturday night’s group photo, a bag of coffee beans from Bucks County Roasters and a recipe card for the Bucks Tavern’s
hot toddy.
“I have to say, this weekend is the best swag yet,” Sheila says. “Although I can’t imagine where I’m going to put that hatchet.”
Laurel and Kalli are up next, and Laurel takes a moment to lean forward, over the ledge, and say to Belinda, “Thanks for listening
yesterday. I guess it all worked out.”
Belinda smiles at her, trying to think about what she’d said in those few minutes after Laurel left the class in a huff over Cole showing up. A long weekend can work miracles.
She realizes she’d been hoping for one herself. But every conversation with Max leads to the same dead end: selling. Still,
if there has to be a final weekend, one last retreat, she couldn’t have asked for a more interesting one. She especially enjoyed
meeting Maggie and has a parting gift to thank her for stepping in to teach: a luxurious blanket she knit using a beloved
and discontinued British yarn called Jaeger.
She scans the group to see if she can pull her aside for a moment now, but the bachelor party seems to have descended on the
front desk all at once, loud and rowdy, still riding the wave of last night’s revelry. Aidan and Cole look a little bleary-eyed,
clutching bottles of water and to-go coffee. Scott is loudly recounting a particularly wild moment—“And then the tent collapsed
and we could have sworn just before it happened we could make out the silhouette of a bear”—while Barclay, dressed in pressed
trousers and an army-green all-weather coat, leans against a stuffed luggage cart. A cascade of beer pong balls rolls out
of a half-zipped duffel bag.
“Belinda, I was just telling your hubby that it was another great stay,” Barclay says. “The New Hope Inn never disappoints.”
She smiles. “I’m so pleased you enjoyed. It means a lot that you chose to have your family celebration here.”
“Well, I have to admit your knitting ladies added a little spark to the festivities. Admittedly, not entirely welcome at first.
But in the end, everyone’s happy. So that’s all that matters, right?”
She’d forgotten his little run-in with Maggie the first day at lunch.
“Yes, all the kids learned to share the sandbox,” she says. “Speaking of: Have you seen Maggie Hodges this morning?”
Barclay shakes his head. “Can’t say that I have.”
“Actually,” Aidan says from behind him. “Maggie left.”
“What do you mean?”
“She took off last night. Piper, too.”
That can’t be. Belinda turns back to Max. “Did Maggie turn in the keys for Margaret Meade? Are they checked out?”
Max looks confused. “Well, yes. Is that a problem?”
Why would Maggie leave without saying goodbye? There must be some mistake. She checks the metal lockbox on the wall where
they keep the room keys, scanning the rows of brass hooks. Sure enough, two keys dangle from the Margaret Meade spot.
Meanwhile, Max is handling Aidan’s checkout.
“I’m actually short one key,” Aidan says.
“It happens. Do you know if you lost it here inside or somewhere off-site?” Max asks.
“I didn’t lose it. Maggie left with it.”
Belinda’s ears perk up. This is news to her! Even more reason to wish Maggie hadn’t left so abruptly.
“Is that so?” Barclay says, letting out a low whistle. Aidan ignores him.
“Thank you for the wonderful stay,” he says, his voice tight and his tone stiffly formal. Then the bachelor party clears out,
and Belinda is left alone with her husband.
“I’m really surprised Maggie left without saying goodbye,” she says.
“Bee, I hope you can take this in the spirit in which it’s intended,” he says. “She was just a guest. These are customers—not
your life. The two of us—that’s real life. So let’s move on and see where that life goes next.”
“The inn has been our life for the past thirty years,” she says. “You can’t deny that just because you want a change.”
Max puts his arm around her. “I’m not denying anything. But nothing stays the same forever. And part of being happy is not resisting change.”
As much as she hates to admit it, maybe he’s right.
“Okay, Max. You win.”
Their eyes meet. “I’m not trying to win, Bee. This is a good thing. You’ll see.”
He steps forward and kisses her on the forehead.
The knitters are clustered near the front door, exchanging patterns and final hugs and promises to keep in touch. She doesn’t
want them to leave. She’s not ready to move on.
As Max said, she has no idea where life would take her. All she knows is that she doesn’t want to go.
Aidan hangs back while Barclay hands out cigars in the inn parking. Ritchie suggests he save it for when Scott becomes a father.
“Well, getting married is the first step so consider this a prefatherhood celebration,” Barclay says. He’s just trying to
keep the party going, the freedom of the weekend before getting home to his wife. Mary is a sweetheart but she runs a tight
ship.
Barclay claps Aidan on the back, offering him a light.
“Nah, thanks, I still don’t smoke,” Aidan says.
“Where’s Cole?”
“He’s saying goodbye to Kalli.” He checks his phone. Cole should have been outside ten minutes ago. Ritchie’s not the only
one prolonging the weekend, reluctant to get back to reality.
“I hear he’s not the only one who had a little action this weekend,” Barclay says.
“Oh, no?” Aidan says, pretending he doesn’t know what’s coming.
“So Maggie forgot to return your room key, eh?”
Aidan shakes his head. “It’s not like that.” Even though it is—was. But the night at the campfire was a fluke. He should have left it at that. There was a reason he was still single after fourteen years of being a widower, and a reason she’d never married. They liked it that way.
“Sure it’s not,” Barclay says with a wink. Aidan feels a flash of annoyance, and Barclay must sense it, because he stops with the
innuendo and claps Aidan on the back. “Aidan, I’m just busting your chops. And I feel like I can do that, because we’re family.
Now, you know that Nancy was the apple of my eye—I loved that girl more than anything. And I like to think I knew her pretty
damn well. And from what I know of my girl, she’d want Cole to have a good relationship example to model after, and she’d
want you to be happy.”
Aidan nods. There’s some truth to what he’s saying.
“Barclay, I appreciate that. And I’ll think about it.”
Maybe Aidan should start taking dating more seriously. But that doesn’t mean he should be more serious about Maggie Hodges:
What happens during bachelor party weekend stays in bachelor party weekend.
The New Hope Inn isn’t The Love Boat, after all.