Chapter Twenty-Two Returning To The Inn
Meri
The inn looked picturesque against the snowy trees. It really was like one of those old time post cards.
Maybe that was what we should do, have some post cards made and sell them by the front lobby desk. I thought that my family might like the idea.
The uber dropped me off and I pulled my rolling suitcase behind me, up the old porch stairs and into the lobby, the door chiming behind me as I shut it.
It was never really quiet here. Even at night, the large grandfather clock ticked out the moments while a floorboard creaked overhead from someone walking down the hall.
This morning people were already up, filling the dining room.
Chairs scraped along the floor, voices rose and fell in conversation, and someone laughed merrily.
I paused just inside the doorway and let myself take it in. After the quiet of my condo, it would be an adjustment.
However this time, I had decided on some boundaries.
Going to the front desk, I typed in my password, found my reservation, and booked myself in before finding my key.
“Not staying with Kitty and Lydia? They’re back in the apartment," Lucy observed with a mischievous smile. “We kicked them out of the pool house yesterday."
“I think it’s best for everyone if they don’t have to endure me in the morning," I dryly mentioned.
“And I also see you changed your hours on the schedule. Good for you," Lucy told me.
I had decided that while I was still going to keep my promise to help at the inn to get it up and running, I needed some more time for my hobbies and alone time.
Cutting my hours to what was necessary had been a decision that felt like a good compromise.
I didn’t want to stretch myself too thin.
I shrugged. “I hope Mom and Dad aren’t too disappointed but I need to find some balance in my day. "
“Meri, we’re grateful for any help you choose to give. Remember, it’s a choice," Lucy gently reminded me. “Now, Jane made your favorite triple chocolate brownies so you should get settled in, then grab one before all the guests eat them."
“I will," I promised. Pulling my suitcase up the stairs, I found my room and unpacked. It was actually one of my favorite rooms in the inn. A corner room overlooking the side yard so I had a view of snow and trees. One of the handmade quilts we had purchased with the inn was spread across the bed.
I set my laptop on the small desk, plugging it in so it could charge for later use. Putting my suitcase away, I gave the room one final look before heading downstairs to the kitchen.
The smell of coffee and yeasty bread dough hit first, followed by something sweet that I couldn’t immediately place.
Jane glanced up when I stepped in. “Welcome back. I saved a brownie for you. It’s in the fridge."
“You’re my favorite sister at the moment," I told her with all seriousness as I went to the fridge, taking out a plate with a brownie on it. Jane’s love language was food and I knew that she had deliberately made the batch of brownies for me.
“You don’t have to jump in right away, you know. If you need the day off it’s okay," she added.
“I know, but I’ve wallowed long enough. I need to be busy doing something where I don’t have to think too much. Plus, I already reduced my hours in the schedule so I have built in recovery time," I mentioned, biting into the brownie. I held back a sigh of satisfaction.
She studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. Light duty."
“Light duty," I agreed as I put on an apron.
I reached for a stack of clean mugs and started organizing them in a clean tub along with napkins, spoons, and supplies. Heading out to the dining room, I restocked the coffee machine station before having a quick look around.
Bringing the dirty dishes back to the kitchen, I exchanged clean for dirty in the dishwasher.
The rest of the morning was filled with serving guests, cleaning up, then helping Jane in the kitchen to prep for lunch. Small tasks, with clear steps, little interaction with the guests, and simply doing let me relax.
I rinsed my hands and reached for a towel, drying them slowly before setting it aside to decide on the next task, but we were interrupted as Mom stepped into the kitchen.
“Meri, there you are," she said, her tone a little too bright.
I gave her a strained smile, waiting to see what she might say as the door opened behind her and Daniel slowly came in.
“I was just telling Daniel that you would be in today," Mom began, not so subtly.
I followed her gaze to where Daniel stood near the counter, holding a toolbox and looking like he wasn’t entirely sure how he had ended up in the middle of the conversation.
“Hi," I said, resigned.
“Hi," he replied.
“I thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to catch up," she continued, her smile widening as if she had already decided how the conversation would go. “It’s a lovely day. Perhaps the two of you could have lunch together in the dining room near the front window. It has such a nice view. Jane, do you think we could maybe have something a little special? Do you like fish, Daniel?”
Daniel blinked once, then looked at her more closely. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You know, fish. Do you like… oh, never mind, perhaps your broccoli and cheese soup would be better," she said, waving a hand lightly. “You and Meri can spend some time together and get to know one another. Since that Aryn fellow didn’t work out, Meri is free to spend some time with you."
I felt a sudden sense of loss at the mention of Aryn and cleared my throat, trying to push it away.
Jane sighed and shook her head. “Mom, you need to stop interfering in other people’s lives. I don’t think Meri and Daniel are interested in each other."
“That’s the problem. She’s going to end up old and alone. She needs to be nudged," Mom insisted.
“Daniel, you’re nice enough but I’m not presently dating. At all. Ever," I dryly clarified. “Thank you for your concern, Mom."
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding," Daniel said carefully.
Mom’s smile faltered. “Oh?”
“I’m in a committed relationship," he said. “We’re getting married next year. I actually have an appointment with Lucy about using the inn as our wedding venue."
There was a pause.
Mom blinked, opening her mouth to speak before rethinking it. “Oh."
Jane looked down, clearly trying not to smile.
I pressed my lips together, then failed to hold in my amusement as a small laugh slipped out before I could stop it.
“I should get back to this," Daniel said, gesturing to the toolbox.
“Yes, of course," a flustered Mom replied, stepping back slightly.
He left the kitchen without another word, probably thinking his employer’s family was all nuts.
Mom turned to me. “Well. That didn’t go as I anticipated."
“Well," I echoed, shaking my head.
“That’s… unfortunate."
“For you," Jane said mildly.
Mom gave her a slightly offended look. “I was trying to help."
“I know, but it’s not working," I said. “I’m okay just being me. Please stop trying to matchmake."
She studied me for a moment, her expression softening just slightly. “I do it because I worry about you. You should find love. It’s such a beautiful experience and I want all my girls to be happy."
“I know your heart is in the right place," I murmured, giving her a hug.
“Well, I’m just going to check on the front desk." Mom gave me an extra squeeze before muttering on her way out of the kitchen. “I bet Lucy knew all along."
Jane laughed.
“Just how long did Lucy know?” I wondered, looking at Jane who grinned at me. “Did you know as well?”
“Just a few days ago. Daniel was asking about setting up a taste testing with his fiancee," Jane confessed.
“Poor Mom. I ruined her dreams yet again," I mentioned, rolling my eyes.
“She’ll survive," Jane wryly told me.
After lunch service clean up, I reached for my apron strings and untied them. “I’m officially off the clock."
“Okay."
I folded the apron and handed it to her. “Thanks."
“For what?”
“For letting me come in like this."
“You don’t need permission," she said. “Just tell us what works for you."
“I will," I promised.
Once inside my room, I changed out of my clothes since they now smelled like the kitchen from the broccoli and cheese soup I had accidentally spilled on myself. Once in new leggings, I grabbed the hoodie out of the drawer, slipping it on even though it was far too big for me.
I should return it, yet I didn’t move to take it off.
Instead, I reached for my phone on the nightstand and unlocked it.
There were no missed calls, no unread messages from him.
I stared at the screen for a moment longer than necessary, then locked it again.
I didn’t know if I was disappointed or relieved.
Setting the phone down, I sat down at the desk, opening my laptop and navigating to the writer’s group I had joined the day before.
The page loaded quickly.
A few new messages had been posted since I last checked. A discussion thread about release schedules. Another about advertising options that didn’t rely on video.
I clicked into the second one.
The conversation moved quickly but stayed focused. People shared what had worked for them, what hadn’t, what they would change if they started again.
I read through it, then typed a response before I could overthink it.
A question about whether it was possible to build an audience without showing my face.
The replies came back faster than I expected.
“Yes."
“It takes longer, but it works."
“Focus on consistency, not visibility."
“You can control what you share."
I read each one carefully, finally starting to feel hopeful that I could eventually succeed on my own with my books.
A private message notification appeared.
I clicked it.
One of the members had reached out directly, offering to answer questions if I had any.
I hesitated for a moment, then typed back. An hour later, I leaned back in my chair, feeling like I had made the right decision. I could do this.
Opening my email, I looked back at the last message from Aryn. After hitting reply, I started typing.
Aryn,
I joined the group you suggested. It’s been helpful. I think I understand how this might work now, or at least where to start.
I’ve spoken to a few people there. They’ve been kind.
I think I’ve made a friend.
I’ve been thinking about the weekend more than I expected to. I miss playing D&D and I miss your friends.
I miss you.
I read it once, then again.
I stared at the screen for a moment, my cursor hovering over the send button before I deleted the message.