19. Margot
MARGOT
T he inn is buzzing—more than usual. There’s this spark in the air, like everyone’s moving to a rhythm only they can hear. Maybe it’s the music playing softly from Hazel’s speaker, or maybe it’s just the way everyone showed up with paint on their clothes and joy on their faces.
We’re in the backyard—me, Clara, Imani, Jo, Hazel, Ana, Maya, and Aunt Edie—all hands deep in fairy lights, tablescapes, and wine crates we’ve turned into rustic decor. Even Waffles is out here, nosing around and occasionally stealing ribbon when no one’s watching.
It’s fun. It’s the kind of day that makes me feel grounded. I laugh easily. I tease Clara when she knocks over a lantern. I high-five Maya when she figures out how to hang the heavy garland. I even let Hazel talk me into using gold-accented napkin rings because “they give autumn wedding energy.”
But in the back of my mind… is Cal.
It’s been there all morning. Even now, as I hang another row of string lights and step back to admire the glow, I can feel the thrum of his name somewhere in my chest.
He hasn’t come outside all day—since breakfast.
Will he leave this evening or tomorrow morning? I don’t know. His booking expires at eight a.m. tomorrow morning. Maybe he’s staying until then… or maybe he’s in his room right now, waiting for his Uber. Ugh.
I keep telling myself it doesn’t matter. That this day, this event, this inn deserves my full attention. But I don’t know how to manage it. I’m trying to pull away, but it’s hard. It’s so hard.
The wine tasting starts at four. And it’s already noon. There’s still a lot to do, but with the number of people who have shown up to help, we’ll get things done.
The live band arrives at exactly three, right on cue.
They start setting up near the arbor, the soft strum of a guitar filling the air as guests begin to trickle into the garden.
Hazel is already chatting with the lead singer like they’ve known each other forever, while Ana and Maya adjust wine glasses on the tables with military precision.
“You,” Hazel points at me like a general sending a soldier to battle. “Go shower.”
“We’ve got this,” Ana adds, waving me off with a grin.
“Seriously, Margot,” Maya calls over her shoulder, “take a break. We’ll call if anything catches fire.”
Even Thea, who’s been quietly folding napkins into origami swans, looks up and says, “Go.”
And for once, I don’t argue.
I head inside, letting their voices fade behind me. Upstairs, I peel off my work clothes and step into the shower, letting the warm water hit my skin like a soft drumbeat.
I try not to think about Cal.
I really do.
I think about the event instead. About the way the lights will glow after sundown. About the hope that maybe, just maybe, people will walk away tonight talking about how magical the Key he just lets me be me.”
“Okay, but what’s the problem? Sounds good so far.”
I close my eyes and say it. “I don’t know who he is.”
There’s a pause. “What?”
“I looked him up. Cal Reid. There’s nothing. No social footprint, no articles, not even a LinkedIn. Which, in this day and age, is weird, right?”
“Definitely. But not really a deal breaker. Some people just don’t like to leave a lot of digital footprints.”
“I confronted him and he kinda admitted he wasn’t telling me everything about himself,” I explain.
Mia’s silent, letting me work through it.
“I’m not asking for every deep, dark secret of his life—I just wanted the basics. A real name. Something true.”
Mia exhales into the phone. “Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“And you like him?”
I press my hand to my chest like that’ll slow my heart down. “I do. And I think he likes me. But now I don’t know what to think. How can I trust what we’ve shared if I don’t even know who he is?”
There’s a soft pause before she says gently, “Margot… people lie for all kinds of reasons. Maybe he’s running from something. Maybe he just wanted to be… invisible. But it sounds like you didn’t fall for the version he pretended to be. You fell for the version he was when he was with you.”
My throat tightens.
“And,” she adds, “if the version he’s shown you is real—then maybe he’s just scared you won’t love him when you know the rest.”
I don’t say anything. I can’t.
“You don’t have to forgive him,” she says. “But don’t shut down either. Don’t forget, it’s only been three weeks, like you said. You’ve got to give him enough time to come to you and explain.”
“But what if I don’t like what he shows me?” I ask. “What if I fall for who he is when he’s with me and I don’t like who he really is?”
“Shield your heart, that’s where balance comes in,” she says.
“Give him a chance, but you hold back. Life is short. Love doesn’t come all the time.
People can’t pretend for long, and you, Margot, are an excellent judge of character.
If you think he’s a great guy, I trust your judgment.
I don’t even have to see the rest of him. ”
This makes me smile, and it feels like a load has been lifted off my shoulders.
“I love you, Mia.”
“I love you, too,” she says. “And I’m here if you need me. Always.”
“I know,” I whisper.
“Now go enjoy your party.”