Chapter 14
D arlene bustled around the kitchen, preparing breakfast for her guests. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air. As she flipped the pancakes, Felicity entered the room, an expectant smile on her face.
“Good morning, Gran,” Felicity chirped, reaching for a mug from the cupboard. “How was your date last night?”
She felt her cheeks flush as she turned to face her granddaughter. “It wasn’t a date. Mark and I just went to the theater as friends.”
Felicity’s grin widened as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “Whatever you say, Gran,” she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
She shook her head, focusing on the pancakes to avoid Felicity’s knowing gaze. She couldn’t deny the connection she felt with Mark, but the thought of pursuing something more than friendship made her heart race with both excitement and… fear.
Felicity’s expression turned serious as she leaned against the counter. “Gran, I have some bad news. Two more reservations have canceled.”
Her heart sank. The B&B had been struggling lately, and she feared the new Seaside Inn was drawing away their guests. She took a deep breath, trying to maintain a positive outlook.
“I think it might be because of the new inn,” Felicity continued, confirming Darlene’s suspicions. “But don’t worry, Gran. I have an idea.”
Darlene raised an eyebrow, curious to hear her granddaughter’s suggestion.
“Why don’t we fix things up around the B&B?” Felicity proposed, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “We could give the rooms a fresh coat of paint, update the decor, and maybe even add some new amenities. It might help us attract more guests.”
She forced a smile, appreciating her granddaughter’s enthusiasm, but she knew the truth behind the B&B’s financial situation. The cancellations and dwindling reservations had taken a toll on their income, and the thought of investing in renovations made her stomach clench with worry.
“That’s a lovely idea, dear,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “But I think the B&B is just fine the way it is. We’ve always prided ourselves on our cozy, homey atmosphere.”
Felicity’s brow creased, and Darlene could see the concern in her granddaughter’s eyes. “But Gran, if we don’t do something to compete with the new inn, we might lose even more guests.”
She reached out and patted Felicity’s hand, hoping to reassure her. “Don’t you worry about that, sweetheart. We’ve weathered tough times before, and we’ll get through this too.”
Felicity didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she nodded, trusting her grandmother’s judgment. “If you say so, Gran.”
Darlene turned back to the stove, flipping the last pancake onto a plate.
She didn’t want to burden Felicity with the financial struggles of the B&B.
Her granddaughter had already sacrificed so much to help her run the place, and Darlene couldn’t bear the thought of causing her more stress.
Besides, Felicity had her own life to live.
She had her new romance with Brent. She didn’t need to get bogged down in the B&B’s day-to-day struggles.
As she set the food out on the warming trays in the dining room, her mind wandered to the mounting bills and the dwindling savings account.
She’d always managed to keep the B&B afloat, but with the new competition in town, she feared for the future of her beloved business.
And what if Clint’s high-rise got approved at the end of the boardwalk?
What would that do to the B&B’s reservations?
The sound of footsteps on the stairs pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up to see Mark entering the dining room, a warm smile on his face. “Good morning, Darlene. Something smells delicious.”
She returned his smile, feeling a flutter in her chest at the sight of him. “Morning. I hope you’re hungry. We’ve got pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit this morning.”
As Mark took a seat at one of the tables, Felicity walked past, shooting Darlene a knowing look. “Gran, I’m off to meet up with Brent if you don’t need me anymore.”
“I’ve got it, hon. You go and have a good time.”
“We’re working on some new research. It’s fascinating the things that Brent can dig up.”
Darlene poured coffee into Mark’s cup, her hands steady despite the flutter in her chest. The dining room door opened, and Mrs. Clifton walked in, her silver hair neatly styled and her face bright with a wide smile.
“Good morning,” Mrs. Clifton said, settling into a chair at the table next to Mark’s. “The weather is perfect today.”
“It does look like it will be a nice day.” She filled another coffee cup and placed it in front of Mrs. Clifton. “Would you like pancakes this morning?”
“That sounds lovely.” Mrs. Clifton’s eyes sparkled. “And I wanted to tell you that I’ve made a decision. I’m thinking about finding a place to rent here on the island.”
Darlene paused in her serving. “Really?”
“Yes, I’ve fallen in love with this island.” Mrs. Clifton gazed out the window at the morning sunshine. “There’s something special about it. The pace, the people, the sea air.”
“That’s wonderful news.” Darlene set a plate of pancakes in front of her. “The island does have a way of enticing people to stay.”
Her gaze drifted to Mark, who was focused on buttering his pancakes.
He glanced up, catching her eye, and she quickly looked away.
Of course, Mark had his own life waiting for him—book tours, signings, events.
His world moved at a much faster pace than their quiet island.
But she couldn’t help but wish it was Mark telling her he was staying on the island.
She pushed the thoughts away and busied herself with refilling coffee cups, but it was hard to ignore the odd ache in her chest at the thought of Mark’s eventual departure.
He finished his breakfast and rose. “I’m headed out to the porch to write a bit.” He pointed to his laptop case. “I want to finish the chapter I’m working out, then print it out for revisions. I’m old-school that way. I revise on paper.”
“I’m glad the words are coming again.”
“So is my agent.” He laughed. “I sent him the first part of the book and he’s really excited. Now if I can just pull it off.”
“I’m sure you will.” Not that she really knew what was involved in writing a book, especially a mystery with all its twists and turns. “Good luck with it.”
Mark headed out to the porch, laptop case in hand, while she gathered up the plates and utensils from the table and carried them to the sink. The familiar routine that usually gave her such comfort felt a bit empty today.
Felicity was busy doing research with Brent. Mark was writing a new book. Even Mrs. Clifton was contemplating a new life. But here she was, doing the same thing, day after day. And now, with the added worry of finances.
She shook her head as she placed the dishes in the sink. It wasn’t like her to feel sorry for herself. Enough of these thoughts. She was a lucky woman. Owner of a lovely B&B and she had a wonderful granddaughter. Her blessings were many.
Darlene tried to remember the feeling of how she was so blessed as she wrestled with the leaky kitchen faucet. No matter what she tried, she couldn’t quite get the leak to stop and it was driving her crazy. Not to mention she wasn’t one to waste water. And leaky faucets led to higher water bills.
She stood up and stretched, her hand on her back.
And after she got this fixed—if she got it fixed—she needed to go work on the balcony door in room ten.
The last guests had mentioned it was hard to open and wasn’t closing properly.
She couldn’t bear to think of guests thinking the Bayside wasn’t kept up properly.
A B&B with reviews that said it was cozy could quickly turn into a B&B with reviews that said it was run-down.
She sighed, staring at the stubborn faucet that refused to cooperate. She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Mark entering the kitchen. His eyebrows rose as he took in the scene before him.
“Everything all right?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
She straightened up, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. “Oh, just trying to fix this leaky faucet. It’s been driving me crazy, but I can’t seem to get it to stop.”
He stepped closer, examining the faucet. “Mind if I take a look?”
She hesitated for a moment, not wanting to trouble him—he was her guest after all—but the offer was tempting. She handed him the wrench. “Be my guest. I’ve been at it for a while now with no luck.”
He rolled up his sleeves and got to work, his forehead creased in concentration. She watched, impressed by his focus and the confident way he handled the tools. It was a side of him she hadn’t seen before, a glimpse beyond the grieving widower or famous author.
As he worked, she found herself studying his features. The way his salt-and-pepper hair fell across his forehead, and the intensity in his eyes as he tackled the problem at hand.
After a few minutes, he straightened up, a triumphant smile on his face. “There, that should do it. Give it a try.”
She turned on the faucet, holding her breath. She turned it back off, and to her relief, there wasn’t a single drip. She beamed at him. “You fixed it! Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”
He shrugged, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “It’s the least I could do. You’ve been such a gracious host, and I know running a B&B isn’t easy.”
A warmth spread through her at his words. It was rare for someone to acknowledge the challenges of her job, and even rarer for a guest to offer assistance. “Well, I appreciate it more than you know. It’s been a bit of a struggle lately, trying to keep up with everything.”
He nodded, his eyes full of understanding. “I can only imagine. If there’s anything else I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
She so wanted to ask how he was with cantankerous doors.
He must have noticed her hesitation. “Come on. Tell me. You’ve got something else that needs to be fixed, don’t you?”
She gave him a sheepish grin. “There is this one balcony door…”
“Lead the way.”
She grabbed the toolbox and led him up the stairs to room ten, grateful for his willingness to help. She opened the door to the room and gestured to the balcony. “It’s just out there. The guest said it was sticking and not closing properly.”
He stepped out onto the balcony, examining the door. He ran his fingers along the frame, testing the hinges. “I think I see the problem. It just needs a little adjustment.”
He retrieved a screwdriver from the toolbox and set to work. She watched, impressed by his handiness. It was a pleasant surprise to discover this side of him.
Within minutes, he had the door gliding smoothly and closing securely. He turned to her with a satisfied smile. “There, that should do it. What’s next on your list?”
“Oh, you’ve done more than enough. I’m sure you have writing to get back to.”
“Have you ever been around a writer who is procrastinating? That’s what I’m doing now. Procrastinating. I’ve written myself into a corner. I find if I step back and do something non-writing related, the solution will usually come. So I’m at your service this afternoon.”
She hesitated, not wanting to impose, but the loose step on the front porch had been nagging at her. “Well, there is one more thing, if you don’t mind.”
He followed her downstairs and out to the front porch. She pointed out the wobbly step, and he crouched down to take a closer look. “Ah, I see. The board just needs to be secured. Do you have a hammer and some nails?”
She fetched the tools, and he quickly fixed the step. As he hammered the last nail in place, a guest emerged from the B&B, nodding approvingly at the repair.
As they headed back inside, she remembered one last issue that had been bothering her. “I hate to ask, but there’s a ceiling fan in the front room that’s been making an annoying noise. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to take a look?”
He chuckled. “Lead the way. I’m on a roll now.”
In the front room, Mark climbed up on a ladder and examined the fan. He tightened a few screws and gave the blades a gentle spin. The fan whirred to life, silent and smooth.
She clapped her hands in delight. “You’re a miracle worker! I can’t thank you enough for all your help today.”
He climbed down the ladder, wiping his hands on his jeans. “It’s my pleasure. I’m happy to lend a hand.”
She felt a sudden urge to repay his kindness. “Let me make you dinner tonight, as a thank you. It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done.”
He looked surprised, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “That’s very kind of you, but you don’t have to go to any trouble.”
She waved off his protest. “It’s no trouble at all. I love cooking, and it would be my pleasure to make dinner for you.”
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “In that case, I’d be delighted. Thank you, Darlene.”
She felt a flutter of excitement. The prospect of cooking dinner for Mark and sharing a meal together appealed to her greatly.
“Oh, and I did think of a way out of the spot I wrote myself into. I’m just going to pop upstairs and make some notes.”
“Okay, I’ll have dinner ready about six, if that works for you.”
She bustled into the kitchen, her mind already whirling with menu ideas. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked forward to making dinner for someone, but somehow, with Mark, it felt different. Special.