Chapter 5
A knuckle rapped on her window.
Scarlet frantically dried her eyes on a sleeve, then cracked her window.
An older woman with silvery hair huddled inside her coat, enduring a gust of wind that curled cold fingers inside Scarlet’s car. “I’m Myrtle, the owner of the B and B. Are you Miss Brevon?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you best come inside. Storm’s coming up quickly. It’ll be here soon with a couple of days of rain. Can I help with your luggage?”
“But it’s June. It’s basically summer.”
Myrtle smiled. “It’s the coast, dear. Most of our weather is fog and rain. July and August are much prettier. But we don’t live here for the sun. Now, let’s get you inside before it starts up.”
Scarlet climbed out into the breezy evening, picked up her purse, and then collected her duffel from the trunk. Myrtle held the door for her.
The inside was warm and spacious, with nautical decor ranging from buoy lamps to seashells and metal artwork of ships at sea.
Myrtle checked her in at the front desk. Breakfast was from seven to eight each morning. There was a vending machine in the laundry room for drinks and snacks. Extra amenities, from toothbrushes to ponchos, were available for purchase behind the desk.
Scarlet took the key she handed her and thanked her.
“Your aunt thought the world of you,” Myrtle remarked. “You meant a lot to her. I hope you find what you’re looking for while you’re here.”
Scarlet paused as she headed for the stairs. “I’m just here to sell the shop on her behalf and settle any other debts.”
The owner nodded. “I see. Well, get some rest. I know you have a meeting bright and early. Can I make you anything for breakfast?”
Scarlet didn’t know if she’d be hungry with all the tension knotting her insides. “Just toast would be fine, thanks.”
“Did you get your fabric business back on track? I heard about the storm from Ann.”
“We did. Apparel fabrics were back on track earlier this year. Our Christmas line-up just got finalized yesterday. So it’s in production now. We’ll be late, but within the necessary timeframe to achieve profitability.”
Myrtle’s lips parted, then she dipped her head. “Your aunt was the same way when she first arrived here in town. Always worried about profit until she learned what was more valuable.”
“What’s that?”
“Community. But that’s just my opinion. Try to get some sleep. Please let me know if you need anything.”
Scarlet picked up her bag and hiked up the stairs to the room at the end overlooking the dark ocean.
Rain pelted the window and tapped on the roof as she walked inside. The space was softly lit with a conch shell lamp, a gas fireplace, and a ceiling chandelier made of the steering wheel of a boat, something that looked like it came from the era of Columbus.
Scarlet set her bag on the nearby bench seat and pulled out her pajamas. A shower washed away the jet lag of the long trip and a pathetic portion of her sadness after seeing the darkened shop.
But even after taking an extra dose of melatonin, Scarlet struggled to sleep. Aunt Ann’s face haunted her, her pleas to answer her calls, and the desperation in her voice. Scarlet struggled to decipher the words that replayed in her hazy half-awake state. But she already knew enough of what her aunt was trying to tell her. It was the same things she’d always said.
Take care of yourself and those around you. There’s nothing in life more important than togetherness.