Chapter 8 #3
Wade headed off with the photos, and Thomas brushed the worst of the dirt from his clothes before making his way to the makeshift office Isabella had set up in what would become the inn’s library.
Eventually, he found her deep in conversation with Luella, looking over menus for the inn’s future restaurant.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but we found something you should know about.”
She looked up, her expression shifting from annoyance at the interruption to concern when she saw his dirt-smudged appearance.
“Oh no, what happened? Is it serious?”
“Not serious, but it does require attention,” he said. “The original plumbing is configured differently from what the blueprints indicated. We’ll need to revise our installation plans.”
Luella chuckled. “I told you those old blueprints weren’t reliable. The east wing was renovated in 1926 without any proper documentation. My grandma used to complain about the plumbers cursing under the floorboards for weeks.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Your institutional memory continues to be our secret weapon, Luella.”
“Well, it’s no secret,” the old woman replied with a hint of pride.
“Isabella has been picking my brain about everything from kitchen layouts to staff quarters and learning more than any blueprint could tell me,” Luella said. She looked back at Thomas. “What do we need to do about the plumbing issue?”
“Wade’s uploading the photos now. I’ll have to revise the plans for you before tomorrow morning, but it’s going to add some cost and maybe even a few days to the schedule.”
Isabella nodded. “Okay, well, let me know the specifics when you have them. If we need to adjust the budget, I’d rather know sooner than later.”
He appreciated her practical approach to setbacks. Some clients would have freaked out or tried to cut corners to maintain their original budget or timeline, but she always prioritized doing things right over doing things quickly or cheaply.
“We’re still in good shape overall,” he said. “The window restoration is ahead of schedule, and the electrical work passed inspection yesterday.”
“That’s great news.” Isabella smiled, some of the tension slowly leaving her shoulders. “We need a few wins to balance out the challenges.”
Luella gathered her notes and rose from the chair with a deliberate movement, as if her joints didn’t cooperate as easily as they once did.
"Now, Isabella, you study those menu ideas I gave you real good.
Shrimp and grits'll do fine for breakfast, but folks expectin' dinner are gonna want somethin' with a little more flair to it. "
As Luella left, Thomas took the seat she’d vacated, pulling out his notebook to show Isabella some preliminary sketches for the plumbing.
“The main issue is here,” he explained, pointing at a rough diagram. “The original pipes run through the foundation instead of alongside it, which means we can’t simply replace them in the same location without compromising structural integrity.”
She examined the drawing. “What’s your recommended solution?”
“Reroute the new plumbing through this section.” He indicated a different path on his sketch. “It’s a longer run, which means more materials and labor, but it avoids disturbing the foundation.”
“Well, that makes sense,” she agreed. “Do what needs to be done. I trust your judgment on this.”
The simple act of trust struck Thomas unexpectedly hard.
Over his years of restoration work, he had become used to justifying every decision and explaining every choice to clients who questioned his expertise.
Isabella’s complete confidence in his judgment felt like a gift - one that reminded him why he had fallen for her analytical mind and decisive nature thirty years earlier.
“There’s something else I want to discuss with you,” he said, closing his notebook. “I’ve been thinking about that conversation you had with Maggie, about the inn’s opening celebration.”
She looked up. “Yeah?”
“Well, there’s a place on the island I think you should see, somewhere that might inspire some ideas for the event. If you have time this afternoon, I’d love to show you.”
She looked curious. “What kind of place?”
“Well, it’s difficult to describe,” he said with a small smile. “Better experienced than explained. It’s nothing formal, just part of the island that most visitors never see.”
She hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “Okay, I’m intrigued. When would we go?”
“How about after lunch? The tide will be right then.”
“The tide?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Trust me,” he said, standing up. “Wear comfortable shoes and clothes you don’t mind getting a little damp.”
Thomas would take her to a mysterious place that required precise tide timing and comfortable shoes. Whatever he wanted to show her, Isabella suspected it would be another step away from the safe professional distance they'd maintained.
The question was whether she was ready to follow where he led - and what truths might be waiting in the places most visitors never saw.