Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Slumber parties are infinitely better with adult money. Arms loaded with chocolate-covered strawberries and supplies to create vision boards; I make my way up to the Inn. Having two of my closest friends in one room is a dream come true. I don’t want to waste a second.
Opening the front door, I step inside. I find Story with Journee and Dar, but they’re not alone, which surprised me.
Dressed in an adorable red nightgown with gingerbread people all over it, Journee is having a fake tea party with Dar.
Seated at the small table, they’re oblivious to everyone else with their tiny plastic croissants and little pink cups with saucers.
Bridger looks entranced as he chats up Story.
What’s he doing hanging around? I’m shocked he’s not already out on yet another date.
Eyes overly bright, he hangs on her every word.
Talking with her hands, Story speaks animatedly.
He nods his head, smiling. I can’t remember the last time I saw either of them show this much interest in a member of the opposite sex.
It gives me pause. She’s only here for the week, and he’s notorious for keeping things light and fun. They’ll be fine.
They turn to face me, and I put on a smile. “Looks like you started the party without me, guys.”
“Aunt Phil.” Journee sets down her toys and runs to me. Hugging me around the waist, she burrows her face into my stomach.
“Mom let me stay up so you can tuck me into bed.” Her words are muffled, but I understand them just fine. She pulls away and smiles up at me, showing off the gap in the front of her teeth where she’d fed the tooth fairy’s coffer.
“Are you serious? That is my favorite part of the night.” I smile down at her.
Releasing me, she dances her way back over to Dar. Gathering their playthings without being told, she returns them to the wicker basket where they’re stored for kids who need a distraction during check-in and check-out.
“Good job with the cleanup, Journee.” Dar showers her with praise, and she grins. I watch as Dar falls a little more in love with her. Journee is such a good kid; it’s impossible not to like her.
“I know when to make myself scarce. You, ladies, have a good night. I’ll cover the morning shift, sis.
I get the feeling you’ll need some extra sleep.
” Bridger looks pointedly at the bottles of in-house Rose on the counter.
Bottled at the local vineyard, the award-winning wine goes down way too easily.
“Thank you. I got you next boys’ night,” Dar promises.
“Good Deal. I’ll lock up on the way out.” He salutes us with two fingers. “Be good, little Story.”
“Night, night, Bridgey,” Journee chirps.
I snicker at the nickname. Grinning Bridger drops a kiss on the top of my head on the way out. For all intents and purposes, he’s my brother. Story grabs the tray of strawberries from me as Dar snags the wine.
“Thanks.” I test the waters once the front door closes. “It looks like you were having quite the conversation.”
“We were talking shop, comparing notes on boutique hotels like the one I work at and the Inn. Everything is so different.”
“Uh-huh.”
She narrows her gaze. “What’s with the uh-huh?”
I shrug. “There was a lot of smiling for a business convo.”
“I’m on vacation. I’m happy.” Her mumbled response seems defensive.
“Sure you are, smiley.”
She scowls. “Do you have room to talk about denial?”
“Oh. I know I’m in over my head. I’m just trying to figure out how I’ll proceed.” I grimace. “His parents showed up at the cabin today. It was awkward, to say the least.”
“We must be talking about Korren,” Dar says with a grin.
“Impeccable timing, Dar.”
I frown. “I don’t know if I like this.” I gesture back and forth at the two.
They laugh, and I know I’m about to be grilled. It’s okay. I need tough love right now to help me gain some clarity.
“I have the adult beverage; shall we head upstairs?” Dar asks.
“Want to lead the way, Nee?” Story asks. I’ve always loved the way she includes her.
“Yes. I’m the line leader today,” Journee explains. Following behind her, we travel up the stairs, amused.
Inside the suite, I smell cinnamon cedar wood, and clean linen air freshener.
A large four poster bed in the center of the room has fluffy white sheets, and a forest green comforter folded down.
I walk over to the table resting against the wall.
I set things down on its surface. Story does the same, walking Journee to the bed on the far side of the room.
“Alright. You remember our deal?” Story asks.
“Yes, Mama.” Sighing, Journee removes her flip-flops and climbs into bed.
I walk over to pull the covers up around her and tuck her in.
“I brought your favorite story.” Story pulls a pink princess CD player and matching headphones out of the dresser. I know from experience that it’s loaded with the fairy tale CD.
“I love you. Try to get some sleep. We have another busy day tomorrow. Mom is going to be right over there having some friend time.”
Journee nods solemnly, as if she already understands the sacredness of girlhood.
“Night, Aunt Phil. Night, Ms. Dar.” Pressing play, she snuggles into her pillows. Her eyelids grow heavy, and her body begins to relax. Poor thing must be exhausted.
“Sweet dreams, Nee,” I whisper, kissing her forehead.
Moving to the other side of the room, we break open the strawberries and pop the cork on the Rose.
“So, you met the future in-laws?” Dar pours us three glasses.
“Stop,” I cover my face. “There was serious tension between him and his dad.” I keep the explanation vague. His story isn’t mine to share.
“Oh, yikes.” Story takes a sip of her wine.
“Yeah. Not the best first impression for either of us. His mom seems nice, though.” I look at my purse, where my phone rests.
“Have you spoken with him since you left?” Dar asks.
“No. I wanted to give him space, but I’m worried.” I toy with the vision board supplies I brought.
“Shoot him a text. You’ll be distracted until then,” Story suggests.
“I don’t want to be one of those friends who can’t have a girls' night without talking to her man.”
“Shut up and do it.” Dar pops a strawberry into her mouth.
“What she said.” Story nods.
“Fine.” I walk over to my purse, pull out the phone, and shoot Korren a text.
Phil: Hey, just checking in on you. Everything, okay?
Korr: It went as well as it could’ve. He’s cooling off with Uncle Ralph, and Mom and I are enjoying a reunion.
I smile at my text.
Phil: Enjoy your time with your mom then. I’m here if you need to talk.
Korr: Thanks, Pepper.
“Look at that smile,” Dar says.
“Not another word.” I shake my head as I move to set out the vision board supplies. “I figured with the new year coming, we could set some goals.” I hand each of them a piece of the poster board I’d cut into thirds.
“Does one of those things include the handsome blond circling around you like a hungry shark?” Dar asks.
Story nearly spits out her drink as she laughs. “Oh, God. Straight for the kill?”
“Laugh it up. He’s a problem.” I sigh.
“Why?”
“Because he seems too good to be true, and I’m not looking to settle down here.”
“Are you still on that?” Story frowns.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I sip my drink.
“What are your plans if you leave here?”
“I don’t know yet. I have to figure out an escape plan first.”
“Escape plan?” Dar huffs. “We’re not a jail, Phil.”
“Not for you—”
“How about we narrow down what it is you don’t like and go from there?” Story asks diplomatically.
“Okay.” I inhale. “The lack of freedom. Joiners run the hardware store. It’s what we do. There’s no room for growth outside of that.”
“According to whom?” Dar asks.
“Everyone.”
“No,” Story shakes her head. “I don’t believe that. Aren’t people asking you to help them with projects for their own stores? That means they’re interested in freshening things up, at least.”
“Okay, my dead ancestors?” I shoot the words at her.
“I think it’s more like one living family member has you backed into a corner,” Dar suggests gently.
I look away.
“Have you talked to him at all about what you want to do with the store?” Story asks.
“A little. He didn’t shut me down completely, but he was worried. Right now, he can’t afford the additional stress.”
The girls exchange a look.
“You’ve already taken a lot off his plate, and help with whatever he and your mom need. I think he can have a rocky conversation,” Story insists.
I finish off my Rose. “I’m worried about making him worse,” I admit.
“I get that, but what makes you happy matters too,” Dar says.
“What are you two getting at?” I study her.
Story purses her lips. “You can’t keep running from yourself.”
“I was happy in my old life before it blew up. Hell, you were there.” I wave my wine glass in her direction.
“I was. And I think you were some of the times. But there were many moments when I saw how lonely you were. You busied yourself with work, but I know it wasn’t enough. You have a chance to have it all here. It’s what you deserve.”
“I’m taking the same stance,” Dar says.
“Thanks, girls. I just need time to think it out.”
“The question now is, what do you want moving forward?” Dar says.
“I’m afraid to dream when my last one was spectacularly obliterated recently.”
“The sky's the limit here. Isn’t that why we’re doing the vision boards?” Story taps a long black nail on the paper in front of her.
“Okay. I want a man who loves me at my best and worst, a solid marriage, a family, and a job that fulfills me.”
“Why was that so hard to admit?” Story continues to push me to think.
“Because my worst fear is that I missed my window for all of that. The only thing I can control at this point is work. And I don’t even have freedom there.” Anxiety bubbles up to the surface like carbonation in a soda.
Dar sips her wine. “You should speak with your father and find new ground.”
“What’s the point? You know how it is being beholden to a family business. Especially as one of the founding families. I don’t want to be the reason that fails.”
“Do you have to be there every day in order for the place to thrive? There are different ways to run a business, and you have a ton of transferable skills. That means you can make up the difference in paying employees. After what you did for Reel Haven, people are talking.”
“Really?” I look at her, surprised.
“I get asked all the time at the Inn if they think you’d be willing to do that for someone else, or if it had to do with the incident, which we will not mention.”
Story snickers. “Any man who sticks around after that is a winner.”
I huff. “I’m telling you, the thing went off on its own.”
“We know,” they say in unison.
“Doesn’t change the fact that a lesser man would hold a grudge.” Story grabs a berry.
“I call him Mr. Sunshine for a reason. He’s not like most men I’ve met,” I answer snippily.
Dar chuckles. “In this day and age, I’d count that as a good thing.”
“I like him,” I whisper.
“Finally.” Story flops back in her chair.
“I thought you would never admit that,” Dar says.
“And you don’t think that’s a horrible idea? What if things don’t work out and we’re stuck here?”
“No one knows what the future has in store for them, babe.” Story holds my gaze. “Be in the moment. Listen to your heart and mind. Stop trying to plan every last detail. We both know life does what it wants with us, regardless.”
“You told us what you want. Why don’t you use tonight to decide how that would look?” Dar suggests.
“We’ll do the same. You won’t be alone in baring your soul.” Story bites her bottom lip. “I think I want to move. With you gone, the city feels empty, and my job is okay, but nothing I dream about.”
“What would you do instead?” I ask curiously.
“I’m not sure. I have plenty saved up, and Max’s money would let Journee and me get by while we figure things out. She’s still young, so her roots are malleable. “
“I want to get back in the dating pool,” Dar admits.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about Fletch.”
“Ugh.” She bangs her head on the table gently. “He’s the forever crush that never goes away.”
“Are you sure that’s all there is to it? Because honestly, I think it’s mutual.”
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. Not only is he my brother’s best friend. I think Bridger would kill us.”
“I think you might have a blind spot there.” I point a berry at her.
“If he were interested, what then?” Story plays devil’s advocate.
“I—” She pauses. “I’m not sure. I mean, I’d want to explore it.”
“Go with that,” Story says.
Her eyes widen at Story’s aggressiveness.
Story pats her stomach. “The gut never lies. Always go with that first instinct. We talk ourselves out of things meant for us all the time.”
I refill her glass. “You’re both grownups. I think Bridger would get over it once he knew it was serious.”
“It’s all speculation anyway,” Dar mumbles. Grinning, I silently cheer them on. I want to see my best friend happy, and I think Fletch would be a surprisingly good match.
Letting myself dream big, I go all out with the pictures, pasting the scraps of paper onto the board.
It’s a coincidence that the men I’m finding are blond, not a wish I cast out into the universe about a certain man.
Cutting the thick paper is satisfying. I form words with snips of sentences from the magazine.
Anything is possible. I paste a Victorian style home that resembles the one I dream of beneath the phrase. Swallowing hard I add two children.
There are no limitations or judgement here. I add a ring, and a wedding dress with a floral pattern. It feels good to wish.