Chapter 6
LINDA
Linda walked back into the hospital with a paper cup of cafeteria tea in her hand and a heaviness in her shoulders that had nothing to do with the day’s driving.
The kids were settled at Heart House. Rosa had them at the kitchen table, with the pizza box between them, and Buddy, Uncle George’s golden retriever, under Jake’s chair, his head on the boy’s foot.
Linda had kissed them goodbye and stood for a moment on the porch listening to their carefree chatter before she made herself walk back to the car.
Now she was here again. The corridor was hushed and dim, the lights lower for the evening shift. She made her way to the recovery wing, found the door to Uncle George’s private room, and stopped in the doorway.
He was asleep.
His face was soft in sleep. The lines of his jaw eased, and his white hair feathered against the pillow.
The cast on his hip and leg was propped up on a soft cushion.
The monitor beside the bed beeped quietly.
The bedside lamp threw a warm yellow circle across the bed and the night table, where someone had set a glass of water with a bent straw and a folded napkin.
Linda’s eyes filled with tears.
She crossed the room and laid her hand over his on the white blanket. His fingers stirred faintly. He didn’t wake.
“I’m here, Uncle George,” she whispered.
“I can’t believe you did what you did while on your own.
What were you thinking?” She sucked in a shaky breath.
“If it wasn’t for Rosa, who knows how long you could’ve been there in pain.
” She shook her head and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack.” She straightened the hair on his forehead.
“But I’m here now and I’m going to ensure you are well taken care of while you recover. ”
She stayed bent over the bed for a long moment, then straightened and lowered herself into the visitor’s chair.
The day pressed down on her all at once.
She set the tea on the night table, pressed her fingertips into her closed eyes, and let out a long breath she hadn’t fully exhaled since six o’clock that morning.
A small image flickered through her mind.
The man at the pizza place who had opened the door for her.
He had seemed very familiar to her, and she was still trying to place where she’d seen him before.
Linda had also not been able to get him out of her mind for some reason.
When his eyes had met hers, a strange sensation tickled her stomach, and her heart had lurched.
She set the thought aside. Linda had a lot on her plate already, with a wounded uncle, two grandchildren for the summer, a job to find, a new place to live, and a hotel that had clearly been hiding something.
There wasn’t room for anything else tonight, much less for her to have weird butterfly stomach flutters every time she thought of that tall, handsome man with his easy smile and friendly demeanor.
Linda pushed the thoughts of the newcomer to town from her mind and let her mind wander to the practically empty parking lot at Hearts Hotel, which sat in her chest as she opened her eyes again.
Seven cars. She counted a total of seven cars in the hotel’s parking lot on the first weekend of June.
That parking was usually full at this time of year
A frown marred her brow as she thought about what Maggie had started to tell her at the hospital earlier, something Tom had cut short by coming back with the kids and the cookies. The place needs. That was as far as Maggie had got before she’d pressed Linda’s hand and promised they’d talk later.
Tonight was later, and Maggie should be here any minute as she had gone home to shower and change out of her work clothes.
As if on cue, there was a soft knock at the door. Maggie stepped in, carrying a plastic cafeteria bag and was now wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a light jacket draped over her arm.
“I brought us some sandwiches,” Maggie whispered. “I knew you wouldn’t have eaten.” She smiled. “I haven’t either, and my stomach is not happy with me. In the cafeteria, it grumbled so loud I’m sure it echoed off the quiet walls, and everyone must’ve heard it.”
Despite herself, Linda laughed at the image. “Your stomach does growl quite loudly when you’re hungry. Her smile widened. “Uncle George always says…”
“My stomach doesn’t growl, it shouts out in anger when it’s empty,” Maggie finished for her with a big grin as she put the bag down and pulled up the second chair in the room besides Linda’s.
Maggie grabbed the bag and sat down, her eyes going to Uncle George’s sleeping form.
“Has he woken up again?” Maggie turned to glance at Linda.
“No, Tom told me that he had fallen asleep not long after we all left,” Linda answered.
“I’m not surprised,” Maggie said. “He was still really groggy from the operation and all the pain medication.”
“I’m glad he woke up long enough to see us all here, though.” Linda smiled at her uncle.
“Me too,” Maggie agreed. “His whole face had lit up when he saw that you and the kids were here.”
Right then Maggie’s stomach once again complained, and both women laughed.
“I think we’d best see what’s in that bag,” Linda smiled warmly at her friend, teasing her. “Before it gets even louder and wakes Uncle George.”
Maggie giggled and nodded in agreement. She unpacked turkey sandwiches in their plastic triangles, two bottles of water, and a small packet of cookies for later.
“Here we go.” Maggie handed over a sandwich. “I have some cookies for later, which we can have with some of that sludge they call ‘complimentary’ coffee at the nurses’ station.”
“There is nothing complementary about that stuff,” Linda shuddered. “I’ll get us some water from the vending machines rather.”
“That’s an even better idea,” Maggie agreed. “We can have cookies and water.”
Linda ate. The sandwich was nothing special, but as she started to chew, she realized just how hungry she was, and her stomach did a little rumble. They didn’t speak while they ate. The monitor beeped. Uncle George slept on. Outside the window, the parking lot lights had come up against the dark.
When they had finished, Maggie folded her wrapper neatly and tucked it back into the bag.
“How are the kids?” Maggie kept her voice low.
“Rosa was settling them in with the pizza,” Linda replied. “She has some ice cream for them as well.”
“That’s good. I’m glad Rosa chose to stay at the hotel during the week.” Maggie’s mouth lifted at one corner. “That house has always been good for children.”
“Yes,” Linda said quietly. “It is.” Her mind drifted for a bit as she remembered, even with the heartache of losing her father when she was seven, and her brother was eight, Linda’s childhood had been filled with warmth, even on the coldest of days.
There was nothing like the community of Sweet Blossom Bay.
George stirred in the bed. They both went still and watched him. He sighed in his sleep, his hand twitching once on the blanket, but he didn’t wake.
“Maggie,” Linda whispered, “You were going to tell me something about Uncle George earlier.”
“Yes, we need to discuss something,” Maggie told her, her voice still very low.
“Can you tell me now?” Linda said. “About George. About the hotel. The whole picture, Maggie.”
Maggie let out a long, slow breath, and her shoulders dropped half an inch as she let go of something she’d been holding for a very long time.
“All right,” Maggie said softly. “All right. I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”
Linda waited, knowing it was a lot worse than she had thought.
“The hotel is in trouble,” Maggie said. “Real trouble. I’m not going to pretend it isn’t.
The bookings still come in, but Uncle George has been turning people away for two seasons because he hasn’t had enough rooms to accommodate them, as there are quite a few rooms that have fallen into disrepair.
There’s a leaking shower on the third floor that he just shut off.
Two guest rooms on the second floor have mold in the bathrooms, which he closed off rather than treat.
The dining room ceiling cracked badly during a winter storm two years ago, and he had it patched rather than properly repaired.
There’s a damp stain above the table by the window now, and he’s hung a basket of ferns to disguise it.
The south elevator has been out for six months because the part has to come from a specialist who won’t ship without payment up front. ”
“How did I not know any of this?” Linda said, rubbing her temples as Maggie’s words sank in.
“Because Uncle George didn’t want you to know. Because he forbade Tom, Martin, and me from telling you or telling Michael directly. Because every time I tried, in the gentlest way I could, you were drowning in your own troubles and I couldn’t bear to add to them.”
Linda closed her eyes. Her heart was aching now, and her throat felt like it was constricting. Oh no, Uncle George, you should’ve called us. She stared at her sleeping uncle. You, stubborn, stubborn man. She reached out and gently took his hand.
“Tom has been subsidizing the food and cleaning products budget for the hotel as much as he can,” Maggie told her.
Linda’s chest hurt, and her eyes widened as she realized what money Tom must be using to subsidize that with.
“Martin moved into a staff room at the hotel a year ago,” Maggie went on.
“Martin lives there for free now, and in exchange, he handles the hotel’s books and looks out for George.
Martin and Tom are also doing a lot of handiwork around the hotel for George, trying to keep as much of it operational as possible.
I’ve been helping with some renovations as well.
We’re all doing our bit where we can.” She turned her head and smiled fondly at Uncle George.
“After all, he’s always been there for all of us. ”