Chapter Two #2
“Why am I telling you? Because the baby in that story was Amy. The owner of this bed and breakfast.”
Larkin sucked in a breath. “So Amy’s your half sister.”
“Right. Which is why I’m here. She’s only been in our lives for a few years, and staying here for Christmas seemed like a good opportunity to get to know her better as well as spend some quality time with my little nephew.”
Well, that was partly the truth. But he couldn’t tell Larkin the rest. That he was here because of what happened the last time Amy visited Whispering Pines.
The two of them had been chatting when Amy’s phone rang, and he’d been stunned to see the name Larkin Carrillo pop up on her screen.
Later, when he’d asked what the call was about, Amy said it had been one of the guests who had booked into Bramble House for the week leading up to Christmas.
Her grandmother just had hip surgery a month ago and she wants to make sure we can accommodate her special needs.
“So that’s why you fixed her garburator?” Larkin said, breaking into his thoughts. “Because you’re family?”
He nodded. “Just trying to be helpful. I’m a handy guy, Lark. Built my own house, doing a lot of the work myself. So I think I can handle that little project of your grandmother’s.”
She eyed him cautiously. “It’s my grandmother’s house, so it’s her decision. You can talk to her about it over dinner.”
“I’ll do that.” He took a deep breath, wanting to move the conversation in a more personal direction. But before he could think of the right thing to say, Larkin was shaking her head at him.
“You shouldn’t have invited us to dinner.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
“If you’re talking about what happened—”
She put up her hand to stop him. “There’s no point hashing over the past. Let’s just agree to make nice for Gran’s sake over dinner. After that, I’d really rather you left me alone.”
“I’ve tried that. For nine years. It hasn’t worked.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Carson, I’m serious.”
“So am I, Lark.” He wanted to take her hands. Make her stand still long enough that he could look deeply into her eyes and find the girl he’d once loved so much.
But she was already out of her chair and headed to the door. A few seconds later she had shut it firmly behind her.
*
Amy and her family were just finishing their dinner when a tap sounded on the French door that separated the dining room and kitchen from the rest of the house.
Through the glass panes, Marjorie Kettles smiled at her, while her husband stood behind her, looking slightly uncomfortable.
The Kettles were from Bozeman and staying in the Henry and May Bell room.
Amy tried to discourage guests from interrupting their precious family time, but she would not be rude about it.
With a mimed apology to Chet, who was lifting Robin from his high chair, she went to the door.
“Hi, Marjorie, Peter, is everything okay?” She looked from the short, apple-shaped Marjorie to her string bean husband.
After three years running a bed and breakfast, Amy had noticed couples were often physical opposites.
That was certainly the case with the Kettles.
Besides their body shapes, Marjorie wore bright florals and was extremely outgoing, while her quiet husband favored conservative neutrals and tended to keep to the background.
“Oh, everything is wonderful, simply wonderful,” enthused Marjorie.
“Though we did notice that the cookies this afternoon were a teensy bit overbaked, and I wondered if I could help you out by baking a batch of my monster cookies. My friends and family love them, and it wouldn’t take me very long.
Just an hour in your beautiful kitchen. I could bake them tonight, or if you’d prefer them to be right out of the oven, I could do it right after lunch. ”
Amy was mortified. She could feel the blood rising from her neck to her cheeks, until her entire face pulsed with heat. “That’s so kind of you, Marjorie. But I assure you the cookies we serve here are usually perfect. You’ll see tomorrow. I promise.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to criticize. That’s the last thing I intended. I just want to be helpful.”
“And I really appreciate that. But we want our guests to spend their time being pampered and enjoying all the fun festivities in our town. I hope you remember there’s a chocolate-making event at the Copper Mountain Chocolate Shop tomorrow night?
You should definitely check that out if you feel like baking.
It’s a favorite with all our guests.” She raised her gaze to Peter, who was resting a supportive hand on his wife’s shoulder.
“Sage Carrigan, the shop owner, caters to both experienced and novice bakers. So whatever your level of expertise in the kitchen, you’ll have a great time.
Plus, you’ll leave with a delicious box of chocolates. ”
“That does sound like fun,” Marjorie admitted. “But are you sure I can’t help…?”
“Definitely.” Amy’s flare of embarrassment was receding, and she managed a relatively normal smile.
“Please help yourself to a cup of hot cocoa in the sitting room, or maybe relax in our library? We have a wonderful assortment of books and you’re welcome to take them up to your rooms if you’d like. ”
Once the couple had turned away, she closed the door and sighed. “So much fuss over slightly crispy cookies. Sometimes I wonder why I ever left Wall Street.”
“You left so you could meet me.”
“Good point.”
“Besides, I really don’t think she meant to complain. Ask me, she’s the kind of woman who likes to keep busy and take care of folks. She’s not used to being pampered.”
“That may be true.” She went to give Chet a hug, snuggling her face up against his strong chest. “Thank you for talking me off the cliff.”
“That was a pretty short cliff.” Having washed Robin’s hands and face, he started tossing the little boy into the air, causing masses of chortles and giggles.
Amy watched with some trepidation. “I know he loves that, but you might end up with second-hand spaghetti on your face if you’re not careful.”
“Noted.” Chet gave Robin one last toss then asked, “How about stories? And a bath?”
“Ba ba,” Robin said, nodding his head vigorously. Their little boy loved his baths.
“I’ll clean up here and join you shortly.
” Amy opened the door for them and watched her husband and son head for their third-floor apartment.
Before Robin was born, Chet had been so worried about being a good father—he’d had a terrible role model for his own.
But being a good dad came naturally to him, something that had surprised him, but not Amy.
She knew she’d married one of the good ones.
*
Larkin’s grandmother was so excited about their upcoming dinner that she insisted on wearing her nicest sweater and the Dior scarf she’d splurged on when she and Gramps had gone on a European tour.
“Help me with my lipstick, sweetie. I don’t want to be one of those old women who color outside the lines.”
“You’ve always colored outside the lines in life,” Larkin teased. She caught a whiff of peppermint and rose scent as she gently shaded some rose color onto her grandmother’s lips.
“That was your grandfather, not me. Did you know that after their big renovation, Wade and I used to go to the Graff every year for our anniversary?”
“I didn’t know that.” When she’d left Montana, the renovations on the historic Graff Hotel had been so new she hadn’t yet seen them.
She was curious to see how they’d turned out.
But that didn’t make up for her dismay at having to spend the evening with Carson.
At least, with her grandmother along, he couldn’t turn their conversation to the uncomfortable subjects she wanted to avoid.
“You look nice, sweetie. But maybe you want to borrow my lipstick?”
In honor of the Graff, Larkin was wearing a long skirt and short cashmere sweater and her hair still looked great after the blow-out she’d had two days ago, but she hadn’t bothered wearing makeup. She did not want to give the impression of trying to impress.
“I’ll put on a little lip gloss.” She pulled the tube from her purse and applied a light coat. “How’s that?”
“Very pretty. And right on time.”
Larkin helped her grandmother on with her coat, then positioned the walker to make it easy for her to stand.
Carson had volunteered to drive, which had been thoughtful.
The Graff was only four blocks away, but much too far for her grandmother to manage, especially with all that new snow on the sidewalks.
He was waiting in the foyer, looking far too good for Larkin’s peace of mind in a dinner jacket over a dark blue shirt the same color as his eyes.
She could tell he appreciated her appearance too.
She’d known him far too long to mistake that gleam in his eyes.
Fortunately, he focused his attention on her grandmother.
“All ready for our big night? That’s a beautiful scarf, Ethel.”
“I bought it in Paris,” she said proudly.
“We’ll be hitting the Graff in style. Your carriage awaits, ladies. All warmed up and pulled as close to the sidewalk as I could get.”
Larkin was surprised when he led them to a small-sized SUV. “You don’t drive a truck?”
“I do. But I thought your grandmother would have an easier time getting in and out of this. It’s Amy’s,” he added.
The three-story brick Graff Hotel took up almost an entire block and was by far the most impressive building in Marietta.
In the dark it was hard to see details, but the sparkling Christmas lights lent an air of magic to the place.
Carson opted for valet parking so he could help her grandmother out of the vehicle and set up her walker in the correct position.
A doorman opened the glass doors for them, and Larkin’s first glimpse of the grand foyer elicited a gasp.
“Oh, wow!” The regal space with its columns, wood-paneled walls, and marble flooring was dominated by a massive two-story fir tree, glittering with lights and festive ornaments.
Adding to the sensory banquet was the sound of a string quartet playing “Good King Wenceslas,” and the delicious aroma of fine food wafting from the dining room.
“This is really something,” Carson agreed.
“I feel like I’m in a big fancy city,” her grandmother said, eyes wide, taking it all in.
Slowly they made their way to the dining room where they were seated in a quiet corner, ideal for her grandmother who didn’t like to wear her hearing aids when she was in a busy space like a restaurant with lots of different noises competing for her attention.
Carson suggested they order champagne, which caused Larkin some amusement. He’d obviously acquired a layer of sophistication since their high school days. Back then his alcoholic drink of choice, when they could score some, was always beer.
Larkin waited until they’d enjoyed their main course and were waiting for dessert before bringing up the unpleasant subject of her grandmother’s home renovations.
“I went to see your house this morning, Gran. I’m afraid the contractor hadn’t even started the renovations on your bathroom yet.”
A frown line deepened on his grandmother’s forehead. “But the work still will be done by Christmas like they promised?”
“I’m afraid not. When I talked to the owner of the company, he said they might not even start until after the new year.”
“But…where will I live? I can’t stay on at Bramble House. They always close between Christmas and Valentine’s Day.”
Larkin glanced at Carson. This was his opportunity, if he still wanted it.
“I could do the renovation for you, Ethel. I’m not a professional contractor, but I did a lot of the framing and tiling work when I built my own house. I’m sure I could build your zero-clearance shower and install some safety bars for you.”
“That’s such a generous offer. But you’re supposed to be having a holiday, young man. Taking a break from the hard work at the ranch.”
“Believe me, your renovation will be a lot easier than feeding and watering cattle in the dead of winter. I think it’ll be fun. Besides, you fed me a lot of free meals when I was a kid. This is my chance to do something nice for you.”
Larkin had a weird flashback, remembering a time when she and Carson had gone to her grandparents’ house to help them pick raspberries.
They’d harvested two gallons of the delicious fruit and had then been invited to dinner where her grandmother had served a glorious raspberry pavlova for dessert.
Carson had dug in so enthusiastically he hadn’t realized he had whipped cream and red berry juice all over his upper lip and he’d looked dumbfounded when they’d all started laughing.
“I always loved your visits, and you were often helpful. If you did the work, Carson, I would insist on paying you the same amount we agreed on with that other contractor.”
“Deal.” Carson held out his hand and his grandmother shook it.
Larkin wasn’t sure how she felt about the arrangement. At least it would solve the problem of where her grandmother would live after Christmas. But it was also going to mean more time spent around Carson.
After an indulgent chocolate mousse cake, which they shared among the three of them, Carson loaded them back into Amy’s car and drove them back to Bramble House.
The B & B, decorated generously with golden lights and cedar garlands, looked very inviting, and when they were back in the toasty warm foyer, Larkin was tempted to linger in the sitting room and have a cup of cocoa.
But she could tell her grandmother was exhausted.
She’d held up well to this point, but now that they were home, she needed to go to bed.
They both thanked Carson, who had insisted on paying their bill even though Larkin had planned on going fifty-fifty, then Larkin guided her grandmother to the Mable Bramble room, where she helped her wash up and change for bed.
It was almost thirty minutes later when she left and made her way to the sitting room for her cup of cocoa.
She almost changed her mind when she saw Carson was there, waiting for her.
Guess she’d have to have her cocoa another night. “Gran is all settled for the night. Thanks again, Carson, it was a wonderful dinner. See you in the morning.”
She was turning to go up the stairs when he called to her.
“Wait. Can you tell me why you seem to hate me so much? I know we had that awful fight. But you were the one who cheated. And then you just left town. We never had a chance to talk about it.”
Wow. He was diving right in. But maybe it was best that they talk this through. It could be the only way to finally put their past behind them.