Chapter 14 #2
“Oh, yes, a long time ago,” Francine said.
Of course, she didn’t mention that it’d taken fifteen years not to think of her long-lost husband every day anymore.
Her poor Maddie had watched people coming off the ferries for years, hoping her father would be among them.
For that alone Francine would never forgive Bobby Chester.
“Then why do you need to reach him now?” Marion asked.
“Well, it occurred to me that I’m probably still married to him. I’d like to rectify that.”
Marion was silent for a long time. “I can’t believe he never took care of that.”
“If he did, it was without my involvement.”
“I doubt he bothered. Details aren’t Bobby’s strong suit.”
Nothing that smacked of responsibility was Bobby’s strong suit. “I wondered if you might ask him to call me,” Francine said, even though there was no one she wished to speak with less than him.
“I haven’t talked to him in months, but I’ll call him for you.”
Francine recited her phone number for Marion. “Thank you very much. I appreciate your help.”
“If you think of it, I’d love to see some pictures of the girls and their children.”
“I don’t have your address anymore.”
“Let me give it to you.”
As she rattled it off, Francine remembered visiting her sister-in-law’s home. “I’ll put some in the mail to you this week.”
“It was good to hear from you, Francine. Call me again sometime, will you?”
“I will.”
Laura was disappointed that Owen didn’t seem to be around the hotel when she got there.
Her hair was soaked from the rain, and the wind had battered her all the way from North Harbor.
As she stood dripping on the hotel porch, relieved to be out of the elements, she had no desire to venture back into the storm.
Since she wouldn’t dare make use of his secret key, she did what any future innkeeper would naturally do in this situation and started looking into windows, imagining how the lobby might look after some elbow grease and paint.
“Peeking in my windows, Princess?”
Owen’s deep voice startled her.
Laura spun around to find him standing right behind her. His close proximity caused her belly to flutter with nerves.
As usual, his gray eyes were filled with amusement as he studied her.
“I wasn’t peeking,” Laura said, embarrassed to have been caught. “I was thinking.”
“About?”
“What I might do to spruce up the lobby.”
A big smile lit up his face. Judging by the crinkles around his eyes, he did a lot of smiling. “Does that mean what I think it does?”
“Yes, indeed,” Laura said, elated by the decision, the challenge and the fact that she no longer had to live in the Providence apartment she’d lovingly furnished for her and Justin.
“My grandparents will be thrilled.”
“You can tell them I am, too, and I look forward to talking with them. Please also thank them for the opportunity for me.”
He withdrew a cell phone from his coat pocket as he used his badly hidden key to get them into the hotel.
“You can tell them yourself.” As he held the phone to his ear, he kept his gaze on her.
“Damn. They’re not picking up. Hey guys, it’s Owen.
I have some great news for you. Give me a call when you can.
” He returned the phone to his pocket and took off his wet coat.
“Why are you always out walking around in the storm?”
Laura trailed her fingers through the dust on top of an antique table. “Because I don’t have a car, and I like being outside.”
“Even in a tropical storm?”
“I love a good storm. Thunder, lightning, snow, rain.”
He leaned on the mahogany banister and watched her, his expression open and inquisitive. “What do you love about it?”
“The excitement, the drama, the disruption. People make plans that can’t be kept because of the weather. How often these days does anything get in the way of our plans?”
“Something got in the way of your plans, and it wasn’t the weather.”
Amused by the insightful comment, Laura turned to face him. “Ouch.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be flippant about what happened to you.”
“No, you’re right. In my case, I’d equate the storm to a tornado—an F5, in fact.
Metaphorically speaking, the wreckage it left was similar to the pictures you see on TV.
” As she spoke, Laura walked around the room, examining the furniture, viewing the yellowing wallpaper and imagining what it would take to breathe new life into the musty, faded lobby.
“Do you find it exciting to be without power for days on end?”
“In some ways. I made coffee on a gas grill this morning, and it was damned good, if I do say so myself. In fact, my uncle confirmed it.”
He crossed his arms over the sage cable-knit sweater he wore. The color made his gray eyes seem green. “Anyone who can make coffee on a gas grill can survive the other stuff, you know.”
“I have every intention of surviving.” As she brushed the dust off her hands, she realized she’d moved past the fury and into the acceptance stage at some point during her stay on Gansett Island. “What were you doing out in the storm?”
“Looking for coffee, ironically enough.”
“Did you find any?”
“Nope.”
“Got a gas grill?”
“As a matter of fact I do. I’ve got coffee, too. But because I’m not as clever as you, I didn’t think of combining the two.”
The silly compliment pleased her more than it probably should have. “Then allow me.” Feeling lighter than she had since the F5 shattered her life, she gestured for him to lead the way.