Chapter 4
Chapter Four
When Caleb and Ariel stopped at Granddad’s first-floor hotel suite for her visit a half hour later, the place sounded more like a party venue than a respectable hotel owner’s rooms. Inside, an older, upbeat song by Miss Dahlia and Ariel blared from a speaker.
A dozen or more voices sang along, the lyrics often interrupted by wild laughter and clapping.
“Um, I’m not sure what’s going on in there.” Caleb had known this job might someday involve breaking up a wild party. But in his grandfather’s suite? Never crossed his mind. Where did Granddad get a speaker with this kind of output, anyway?
“Sounds like a party.” Ariel’s eyes sparkled as she pulled an envelope from her purse. “I usually carry about a dozen of our CDs so I can bless people with them. To me, CDs sound better than streaming. I’ll give one to your grandpa and hope I have enough for everyone.”
“They’ll like that.”
However, if the racket coming from the suite was any indication, Caleb might regret having texted Granddad for permission to bring Ariel to his home. He rapped on the door, not expecting anyone to hear.
That’s when Miss Dahlia’s distinctive laugh rang out.
Raising his brows, he opened the door, prepared for anything.
So he thought.
His gaze skimmed the thirty or more people in the oversized living room, lights low and coffee tables and end tables filled with snacks and drinks, and landed on Miss Dahlia dancing with—
No, it couldn’t be.
He blinked. Looked again at the famous Miss Dahlia Denton, who could capture the heart of just about any man in this part of the world, dancing a country waltz with Augo Kennedy.
Caleb’s confirmed-bachelor, former-preacher, female-avoiding great-uncle Augo.
Smiling warmly and light on his feet, his little Lucy-dog sitting nearby, watching every step.
Although dancing couldn’t have been easy on the faded Berber carpet.
And Granddad? He sat on one of the two brown couches, next to Great-Aunt Annabelle, instead of the recliner he’d held down since his stroke. The grumpy old man even grinned for a change.
Caleb glanced around for a place to sit with Ariel, but the elderly population of Jonathon Island filled every seat in the huge room and much of the impromptu dance floor.
Aunt Annabelle, her close friends Henrietta Hudson, the retired baker, Ray Martinez, the retired surgeon, and his wife, Peggy, a retired nurse.
An assortment of other seniors either two-stepped, country-waltzed, or watched.
Apparently, this party had rolled into the hotel during Caleb and Ariel’s dinner on the patio.
“Let’s try to get through this crowd. That’s Granddad over there on the end of the couch.” Caleb motioned for Ariel to walk ahead of him. What would all this commotion do to Granddad’s blood pressure?
Next thing he knew, his grandfather had somehow scooted over and made room for Ariel next to himself. Granddad—the man who just this morning could barely reposition himself in the chair or take a few shuffling steps from his bed to the bathroom with a home health aide assisting.
Caleb puffed out a breath. Such was the power of a pretty woman.
He reminded himself to guard his own heart.
“Took you long enough to get here,” Granddad shouted over the music, shooting a scowl at him.
Just when Caleb thought maybe his grandfather would speak a kind word of approval to him for bringing his favorite singer right to his couch…
Granddad touched a button on the little purple Fender speaker next to him—wherever that had come from—and lowered the music’s volume from a front-row-concert roar to a level at which they could actually hear their own voices.
Everyone stopped dancing except Uncle Augo and Miss Dahlia, who seemed not to notice, lost in their own world.
When Caleb introduced Ariel to his grandfather, the older man held out his hand. “You and your aunt sing the most encouraging, uplifting music I’ve ever heard. It’s an honor to have you at my hotel.”
His hotel? Last Caleb knew, Granddad had foregone all responsibility and turned over this shabby heap of an inn to Caleb, either to revive or to bury. Or, apparently, to turn into a sixties-plus dance club.
The song faded to the end, and Miss Dahlia finally stepped out of Uncle Augo’s arms. But not before his uncle gave her a peck on the cheek.
Caleb shot his gaze from his Romeo-uncle to the sofa, where Ariel gave Granddad a CD and he smiled at her, fully engaging with her in a grandfatherly way.
Praise the Lord for that much.
“How did my aunt end up here?” she asked Granddad.
“Those two ran into each other in the lobby. I invited him to come over and meet you, since he’s a fan, and he brought Miss Dahlia. Along with half the island.”
Ariel took a marker from her purse. “I’ll autograph the disc for you, if you want.”
“Please do. And maybe we can have another dance party while you’re here.”
This from the man who’d always threatened to throw out any guest whose music he could hear from the hallway?
Miss Dahlia led Uncle Augo across the wide room toward them. “Ariel, this is Augo Kennedy, Caleb’s great-uncle, and my old…friend. Auggie, meet my great-niece Ariel Denton Sullivan.”
Uncle Augo took the hand Ariel offered. “Interesting middle name—the same as your aunt’s surname.”
“It’s a Southern tradition,” Ariel said in that little Tennessee drawl of hers. “To honor my grandfather.”
When Ariel had signed all the CDs and divided them among the crowd, the geriatric flash mob broke up, with even Uncle Augo and Miss Dahlia going separate ways. Since the fun was over, such as it was, and one of the home health aides would come soon to help Granddad to bed, Caleb and Ariel left too.
Caleb considered offering his arm again but decided against it as they ambled into the lobby.
Ariel turned in a circle, her gaze sweeping the room. “It’s quiet here now.”
“Thank the Lord. My ears are still ringing from that wild party.” He’d hoped to hear the tinkling laugh Ariel was famous for. Surprisingly, it worked. “This is my favorite time of day. Most of the guests have settled in their rooms, but a few prowl around to enjoy the peacefulness.”
“It’s a wonder no one complained about the noise.” Ariel laid her hand on his arm. “Since nobody’s here, want to brainstorm some lobby improvements?”
Caleb glanced around the cavernous room, very aware of the warmth of her hand through his sleeve. And the coolness when she removed it. Shoving aside the thought, he pulled out his phone and opened his notebook app as they stopped near the circular staircase. “Where should we start?”
“Let’s look at strengths and weaknesses.” She tilted her head, her gaze drifting across the giant room. “Strength: lots of space, fantastic original wood-and-stone fireplace. The big reception area lets you check in several families at once while leaving room for cookies and fudge.”
“Lots of square footage for hospitality at the breakfast bar.” He waved toward the sprawling wooden counter between the reception desk and restaurant entrance. “Complimentary gourmet coffee and tea with fresh local cream, pastries from the bakery up the street, and in-season fruit every morning.”
“How about adding a lunch bag for bikers and hikers?”
Caleb added it to his new to-do list. “Now the weaknesses.”
She glanced around, then lowered herself onto a faded green couch. “The seating areas could use a refresh. Some of these sofas sag a little.”
A little? “I never noticed before, but you’re sitting way too low.” He sat beside her and realized just how low.
“Some older people might have trouble getting up.”
“Not that gang we just left.”
Her laugh gave him an unreasonable sense of satisfaction.
“The fabric might be a bit dated too,” she said.
“I know nothing about modern furniture design.”
“This inn oozes bygone charm. I wouldn’t go with a modern look.” She stood and glanced around. “Maybe just new sturdy, luxurious sofas with, say, Victorian-style fabric.”
Caleb rose too and looked at the furniture with fresh eyes. A lot of it needed to go. “Victorian—that means antique, right?”
“It’s one of many antique styles.” Ariel pulled her phone from her purse, opened her photo app and scrolled, then handed him the phone.
“This is the lobby at Greenbrier, an elegant Victorian resort in West Virginia. Greenbrier always lands a spot on our annual Christmas tour. They have new furniture, but it looks older because they use vintage styles and patterns. Lots of bold stripes and flowers in bright colors.”
Caleb studied the pictures, then scanned his lobby. “Fresh colors on new furniture—I like it.”
She strode to the far side of the room and picked up a flower arrangement from one of the deep windowsills. “I’d also replace these little vases and artificial flowers.”
“They look dated too?”
Ariel replaced the vase. “We’re missing a great decorating opportunity. If we use big vases and fill them with fresh lilacs from the grounds, we’ll get natural beauty and a great scent. Plus bigger vases with more flowers look better in these huge sills.”
“Nothing smells better than island lilacs.” He noted it in his phone. “How about the fireplace mantel?”
They started across the room for another look when Ariel’s phone alarm sounded.
“That’s my end-of-the-evening warning. We have an early meeting with our manager in the morning.” She shut off the alarm and faced him, eyes sparkling as they stood under the oversized brass chandelier. “Thanks for supper. Sorry if my aunt caused too much commotion for your grandpa.”
“He needed some excitement.” After they exchanged numbers, Caleb slid his phone into his pocket. “Your suite is around the corner—the only room on this hall.” He caught himself before offering to walk her there.
Ariel gave him a little wave goodbye. He waited a moment, then followed at a distance, making sure nobody bothered her.