Chapter 9
Stepping onto the street outside the funeral home felt like a dream or a scene from a movie.
It had been so stuffy and stagnant inside the church, and then the director’s office had been cool and sterile with bright lights.
Now, the air felt relatively warm, even though the sky was starting to cloud over, and it looked like rain might be on the way.
“What is it?” Fiona asked.
Sylvie pressed one hand to her stomach and the other to the side of her head. “I feel kinda ill.”
“Do you think you’ll make it back to the inn without throwing up in the car?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, Sylvie tried not to think about throwing up. “I’ll be fine. I—”
Fiona’s phone rang, and she held up a finger to silence Sylvie before answering, walking a few steps down the street.
It didn’t make a difference—Sylvie could still hear the conversation.
It was the same one Fiona had been having for days: something about a conference call with the partners and the need for a scribe.
“Yes, actually, it is necessary!” Fiona screeched, making Sylvie wince.
Turning her back on the conversation, Sylvie looked across the street past a small stand of freshly trimmed palm trees and gasped.
In all her recent visits to the funeral home, she hadn’t realized it was directly across from Travel Go Stay.
Nearly in a daze, she crossed the street and began reading the flyers and posters in the window.
The front door of the travel agency opened suddenly, startling her, and revealed Gina Jacobs smiling sadly.
It had been months since she’d seen Gina. Well, face-to-face at least.
“Hi,” she said weakly. “How—”
“Don’t you dare ask me how I am,” Gina cut in. “You look woozy. Come on in and sit down. Let me get you some water.”
Her old school friend had always been almost impossible to say no to, so Sylvie nodded and went up the small staircase. She was nearly at the door when Gina wrapped her in a gentle hug.
There had been many of these unexpected, unsolicited embraces recently, so Sylvie was used to them, but Gina had never been the sentimental or touchy-feely type.
“I am so sorry I couldn’t make it today,” Gina said, stepping back and gesturing for Sylvie to come inside. “I saw the announcement in the paper.”
“That’s absolutely fine. Please don’t worry about it.”
“I feel just awful, but Patrick is out of town, and there would’ve been no one here.”
Sylvie laughed as she sank into one of the comfortable chairs in front of Gina’s desk.
When she saw the astonished look on her friend’s face, she stopped and cleared her throat.
“Sorry. The thought just occurred to me that you probably did me a favor by not coming. It was wonderful to see how many people loved my mom, but honestly, if I had to shake one more hand at the church door, I might have lost it. So, thank you.”
Gina’s face softened into a smile as she crossed the room and poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the sideboard. “I did send flowers. I hope that was all right?”
Sylvie almost twitched, thinking about the minefield of bouquets currently cluttering her front hall. But her intentions were good—how could she be mad? “Flowers certainly are beautiful, and Mom loved them,” she said diplomatically.
When Gina didn’t respond, the room fell into an awkward silence. Sylvie sipped her water, her mind still racing with the thought that had hit her in the funeral director’s office.
“I was wondering, actually,” she said, clearing her throat. “Do you remember—and don’t worry if you don’t, it was a long time ago—watching that movie with me and my mom at my seventeenth birthday slumber party?”
Gina’s eyes widened as she leaned back in her chair, looking thoughtful. “Um, vaguely. The one with the woman and the rogue archaeologist—or whatever he was—on the motorcycle?”
“Yeah, that one. Femme de Force,” Sylvie said, ignoring the slightly derisive tone.
“That was my mom’s and my favorite film, and we always talked about going to where it was filmed.
We had some funeral stuff to handle across the street, and…
well, I think I want to go. Just for a short stay, before guests start arriving again. ”
Her friend sat up straighter, eyes gleaming. “I can do that for you. When are you thinking?”
Sylvie explained that she had about two weeks before the next guest was due to arrive. She’d closed the booking system for now, but this reservation had been on the books for nearly six months, and she couldn’t bring herself to cancel it.
“Then after that, there are three weeks where I could take a few days,” she added. “But after March, there’s no way…” She bit her lip and trailed off. Maybe the whole thing was just completely stupid.
“Don’t second-guess yourself,” Gina said firmly.
“You’ve just experienced a huge loss, honey.
If a few days away will help you keep your head, then go!
If it’s too much stress, too expensive, or just too hard to make it work, then don’t.
But just think, when’s the next time you’ll realistically be able to? ”
Sylvie mentally stepped through the year ahead. After a moment, she shook her head. “This time next year. The inn’s so busy over summer and autumn, then the holidays come along and…”
A sly voice whispered to her in the back of her mind, reminding her that she didn’t even know if she would have the inn this time next year. Maybe Fiona will be running it by then.
Gina watched her quietly, and Sylvie appreciated that. Her friend could easily have turned on the sales pitch, but instead, she was giving her space.
Knowing that the lawyers were coming tomorrow made her stomach churn. Fiona was likely waiting for her outside. The house was full of unwanted flowers, as well as constant reminders of her mom. And that looming Sweet Somedays list might very well take the inn away from her.
“Book it,” she said. “Not for more than a week, though—preferably under. If you can keep it within the budget, that would be great. But I’d prefer to sleep indoors and in a private room. I’m a little too jaded for youth hostels and dorms.”
“Don’t even worry about that,” Gina said. “I will gently tug on every connection I have to get you the best for the least. Is there anywhere specific from the film that you have your heart set on?”
“There’s only really the main street and the hotel where it was all set, I think.
” Suddenly, a loud knock on the glass interrupted her.
She glanced over her shoulder, finding Fiona pointing to her watch, looking confused and annoyed.
Sighing, she turned back to Gina. “Sorry, but it seems I have to go.”
“You know what?” Gina said as they both stood. “Don’t worry about that, either. I’ll do so much research. I’ll know the film better than you do! You’re sure, then?”
Her heart skipped a beat, but for the first time in weeks, she felt genuinely lighter.
“Yes,” she said. “I’m sure.”