Chapter 14
Wedding plans, the inn’s repair, and preparation for Cami’s move to Indy melded together as the next several days flew by.
“Thanks for the update, Matthew. I’ll have Astrid call you, and she can pick out the new flooring.
” Cami hung up from the video call with the Indy construction manager.
The humid breeze lifted her hair and only slightly combated the heat.
Cami had set up outside the inn under a pool umbrella for the call.
She’d known it wouldn’t be good news the moment the contractor had reached out.
The flooring that had been selected for the new office in Indy had been lost in shipping.
They could reorder it, but it wouldn’t come in until after September first, and he wouldn’t be back to finish up the flooring and final details until mid-November.
However, Matthew had found new flooring options that were in stock at a local lumberyard. Cami sent Astrid a text to get with Matthew about the details.
If another trip to Indianapolis was required, she’d have to go. If it was too close to the wedding, Astrid could probably handle it on her own.
The last few days had been packed full of juggling work-related issues, calls with Max about apartment leases, and a million messages from Annalise about wedding details.
Every time Cami complained about how much her sister was relying on her, Annalise would touch her belly and say, “Baby needs help,” and next thing Cami knew, she was elbows deep in tulle, flowers, lights, food, and guest lists.
What made everything worth it was the trips to Hearts Bend. It was in the small town where, even in the midst of all the busyness, Cami could breathe.
Picking up a large basket of solar lights, she headed toward Cottage Three. Annalise had dropped the news that Vicki wanted to use the place to dress and be with her bridesmaids.
Cami braced for the sense of loss, of missing her mother, but instead she felt a bit of joy.
“Mama would love for a bride and her party to redeem the space where she died.”
But as she pushed the lights into soft dirt on the path leading up to the cottage, emotions ran through her.
Never mind the August afternoon was sweltering.
Sweat dripped down her back as she worked.
When she arrived at Cottage Three, she rose up and studied the robin’s-egg-blue door.
Mama had gone to the paint store with Mrs. Carter and picked out the paint color.
Cami and Ben had tagged along and enjoyed ice cream afterward.
Ben had replaced the windows, and the glass sparkled in the light. The window boxes contained fresh, colorful flowers, courtesy of Ray.
The cottage looked the way she remembered it—minus Mama’s paint boots sitting just outside the door. She’d always wanted a pair of boots just like Mama’s.
Cami grabbed another solar light out of the basket and jammed it into the dirt at the edge of the little stoop. Now to add lights to the rest of the garden.
“Annalise said you were lighting the path.” Ben’s deep voice shouldn’t have surprised her. He’d sought her out every evening when she arrived after work to help her sister.
A simple conversation, a gentle press against her back, a whispered word in her ear. Cami did her best to keep it casual. Nothing deep. Nothing emotional. Nothing lasting.
But her skin always tingled at his touch, and her heartbeat tripled its tempo when she caught sight of him.
“These lights arrived. I thought I’d help with the garden.” He held up an box. “Where did you leave off?”
“Here.” She gestured to the robin’s-egg-blue door. “At Mama’s door.”
“How’s it feel to be standing here? Where you left off fifteen years ago?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think she’d love that a wedding was taking place here. She’d love that the door she painted was still blue.”
“I think she’d love that you were standing here,” Ben said. He stepped ahead of her with a gentle touch on her arm. “I’ll go in with you if you want.”
Go in? Really? She began to tremble “I don’t know.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“The truth. That it’s my fault she died. I didn’t get her help in time.”
“It’s not your fault, Cami. I know you know that.”
“In my head, yes, but in here…” She tapped over her heart. “I wonder if there’s some truth to it.”
Ben took the basket of lights from her and set it on the ground. “Come on, let’s go in together.”
For a flash second, she was ten and chasing Ben around the cottage. Granny Carter walked Mama to the front door and gave her the key.
We’re so happy you’re with us again. Ben, be a good host and take Cami inside for some cookies.
She took a step, then hesitated. Her gaze mixed with Ben’s. She was not alone. Not this time.
Cami stepped onto the whitewashed step she used to sit on with Mama and watch the fireflies.
At the blue door, she remembered the night when Ben had walked her home—after they’d fallen out of the tree house—and, holding hands, bid each other a shy goodbye.
Here he stood with her again. He pushed the door open. “When you’re ready.”
“I feel like I’m standing in an igloo,” she said with a shaky laugh.
“Nerves.”
Cami took a trembling step inside and waited, listening, feeling.
She felt Ben’s presence next to her. The walls and the dark wood cabinets in the kitchen had been repainted a simple white, and new hardwood had been added throughout.
The furniture was new—a beautifully simple gray couch and new curtains had been added.
“It’s peaceful,” she said. “I thought it’d feel like death, full of sadness and tears.”
“But that wasn’t your mama, was it? She left her joy and peace here.”
Cami wiped away the tears spilling down her cheeks. “She did, didn’t she.”
“Maybe she left them here for you.”
“So buying the inn was her plan all along?” She laughed at his supernatural suggestion, but deep down, it gave her confidence.
“Ben, I’m going to turn this inn into something we’d all be proud of.
You, me, Mama, your parents and grandparents, and everyone who called the inn home for a night or a week or a month. ”
Suddenly, Mama’s sweet voice whispered across her heart.
’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus… Just to rest upon His promise… O, for grace to trust Him more.
Just as Cami started to sing, so did Ben. When they finished the song together, tears were streaming down his cheeks as well as hers.
It was then she fully knew she could trust her heart to Jesus.
“Come on,” Cami said, wiping the last of her tears and pointing to the furniture dropped off but not arranged. “Let’s get this place in order.”
Together they moved the pieces into place. The couch against the outside wall, a small white coffee table centered in front of it. Cami found a vase in the kitchen and arranged some flowers from the garden in it.
“The walls are a bit bare,” Cami said.
“Come see the artwork I found in the barn.” Ben moved to a box along the wall and pulled out a large painting of a red camellia.
“Oh my.” Cami’s breath caught when she saw the piece. The familiar strokes, the details that had taken hours to get just so. The dew on the petals, the shadows to give depth.
“Do you like it?” Ben sounded like he knew he’d found a buried treasure.
“Yes.” Cami stepped closer, lifting her hand to feel the textures she knew so well.
She’d memorized this painting, done it several times.
In fact, if she was willing to bet, she’d guess there were a few more variations of this painting in the box—ones in pink, white, purple, and blue. But the red was her favorite.
“This is mine.” Her voice sounded husky even to her own ears. She’d spent an entire summer working on these paintings—picking the flower Mama had named her after. She’d been fascinated by the strength, the dignity she’d found within the petals.
“Yours?” Ben looked back at the picture. “I thought you took all of yours home. They’re incredible.”
“Mama was teaching me the technique. I can see all my amateur mistakes, but you know, there’s an innocence about it.
” Cami took the picture from Ben and held it in the sunlight coming through the southern window.
The light played across the painting Mama had spent hours showing her how to shade, how to add depth and texture to.
“I feel like I’ve found a lost piece of myself, Ben. Thank you.”
Thank God.
Ben pulled out a few more paintings and leaned them against the wall. “Maybe you should start painting again?”
“Maybe.” Cami set the painting down and looked at another.
She’d not wanted to see the details anymore.
To consider the One who made all the little things for her to enjoy.
“I got busy after college, and it didn’t seem as important.
I wasn’t really keeping Mama alive by trying to become her.
Dad said I was good in business, so I followed him. ”
“Do you want to take these pictures home with you?”
Cami shook her head. “No, let’s hang them in the cottage.”
Ben pulled out another painting. “Look, this one’s not finished.”
Cami covered her mouth. The bold strokes, the blending colors, the flowers, and the penciled outline of a barn. “That was Mama’s. That was the painting she was working on when…”
The lump in her throat cut off words. She shook her head.
“We, um, we’d spent the afternoon in the garden. We set up our easels, and I finished one of the camellias—I can’t remember which one. Mama had drafted that scene on a previous trip, and she started painting it that day she died. We were going to a movie, then dinner at Ella’s.”
Ben set the painting aside and wrapped his arms around Cami. She didn’t resist but leaned into him.
His hand stroked her hair. “I’m sorry, Cami. There are so many memories here.”
“Please don’t be.” Cami looked up at his face. “You helped me remember the good, and I really need that.”
“You really are very talented. You should paint for yourself. And for the Emerald. I’d hang it in the lobby and tell everyone it’s from a new, high-end artist.”