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Authors: Susan Mallery

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary Women, #General, #Contemporary, #Fiction

Barefoot Season (16 page)

BOOK: Barefoot Season
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“We’re going to have to stop serving dinner. It’s too expensive.”

Damaris raised her free hand. “Hallelujah. Finally.”

“You’re not upset?”

“I never wanted to add that meal. It was your mother’s idea. She was going to get a liquor license, at least until she found out how much work it was. There’s too much competition with the restaurants in town and keeping staff for a few customers is a waste.”

“I thought you’d be upset.”

“No. Easier for me, too. Even though I wasn’t on, they’d call me a couple times a week with a question. Idiots.” Her eyes danced behind her glasses. “You’re making good choices.”

“I appreciate the support. I’m letting everyone know today.”

“There’s a server, Cammie. See if she wants to work days. She’s good.”

Michelle made a note of the name. “Thanks.”

“Anything for you.”

They hugged briefly, then Michelle made her way back to the inn. As she walked toward the reception area, she glanced out toward the rear yard. The sun fought against the morning cloud cover and it wasn’t clear who would win. Rain and light both danced across the grass. But what caught her attention was Gabby standing in the center of the lawn turning and turning, her arms outstretched, her face raised to the sky.

Her feet were bare, Michelle thought with a smile. The ultimate symbol of summer. Barefoot children—like she and Carly used to be.

She could remember the two of them running across the grass, carefree. So incredibly young, unaware of what life would hold and thrilled with the possibilities.

“I can feel the joy from here.”

Michelle turned toward the speaker, not recognizing the tall, well-dressed woman. She had blond hair and an air of quiet confidence.

“Pauline Farley,” the woman said, holding out her hand. “My husband, Seth, and I are the therapists who will be having the retreats here.”

“Yes, of course. Michelle Sanderson.”

They shook hands.

“We’ve been working with Carly on getting the rooms reserved and working out a schedule,” Pauline said. “Everything has gone better than we’d dared hope. Thank you for that.”

“You should be thanking Carly.”

“I will, but as you own the inn, I wanted to tell you how much we appreciate her. It’s never easy to be gone from home, so knowing someone competent was back here taking care of things must have been a comfort.”

Michelle tilted her head. “That was very smooth.”

Pauline looked more amused than chagrined. “The transition to subtle probing? I’m glad you liked it.”

“Did someone ask you to talk to me or was my body language betraying me and you couldn’t help yourself?”

“The latter,” Pauline admitted. “My uncle was in Vietnam. When he came back, he got into drugs and was in and out of rehab for years. I was a kid, but it stayed with me.”

“Is that why you became a therapist?”

“Some. I’m a good listener and I enjoy being around people. I have some specialized training in PTSD, if you’re interested.”

“I’m not.”

Pauline’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “As long as you’re not ambivalent. For what it’s worth, I’ll be here. I’m not trying to be pushy.”

“Yes, you are.”

“All right. A little. I have this need to nurture.”

Having someone take care of her was both the best and worst thing that could happen, Michelle thought. She wanted to surrender everything to someone else, and yet couldn’t bring herself to trust another person that much.

Despite that, she found she liked Pauline. “If I change my mind, I’ll let you know.”

“Good.”

They both turned back to Gabby, who had spun until she dropped. She lay on the grass, arms wide, the sound of her laughter drifting in through the open window.

“I envy her sense of self and freedom,” Pauline admitted. “To be that uninhibited again.”

“Me, too,” Michelle admitted.

The road to normal had seemed shrouded and difficult to navigate. For the first time in what felt like years, she began to wonder if maybe there was a way back. Maybe not to the place where Gabby lived, but she would take getting within throwing distance, if that was possible.

Fourteen

 

M
ichelle knew she should probably apologize. Snapping at Carly, while excellent sport, wasn’t fair. But the idea of forming the words, of then saying them, made her cringe.

At exactly ten, Carly stepped through her open door. She had a folder in her hands.

“Have a seat,” Michelle said by way of greeting.

Carly settled opposite her.

Michelle tried to figure out how to get to the
S
word. Saying “I’m sorry” had never been her favorite, and these days, it was more difficult.

“The weather seems to be improving,” she began.

Carly raised her eyebrows, obviously surprised by the small talk. “Yes. It’s good for the daisies.”

Michelle sank back in her chair and rolled her eyes. “Tell me the daisies were my mother’s idea. They’re everywhere. The garden is fine. I can accept that. But inside? The curtains, the cushions and those damned murals. Talk about ugly. Every time I see them, I wince.”

Carly sat stiffly in her chair. Color stained her cheeks as her chin went up slightly. “I love the daisies and I picked out the daisy motif for the inn. I also painted the murals. Myself. By hand. It took weeks.”

Shit. Shit and double shit.

Michelle held in a groan. “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I was trying to apologize and…” She paused. “You really like them?”

“Of course. They’re cheerful.”

“Aren’t they a little excessive?”

“This is you apologizing?”

“What? Oh, right. Sorry. The daisies are great.”

Carly relaxed a little. “That was sincere.”

“I mean it. Love the daisies. Don’t change a thing.”

Carly smiled reluctantly. “I’m glad you agree.”

They stared at each other. Michelle felt the beginnings of a truce. This was the Carly who had always known her better than anyone.

“Work,” she said. “We should talk about work.”

“I’m ready.”

Michelle nodded. “I spoke with Damaris this morning and told her about the dinner service being canceled. I’ll talk to the evening restaurant staff tonight and tell them Friday is their last day.”

Carly opened her folder and pulled out a piece of paper. As she handed over the sheet, the light caught the movement of her charm bracelet. Make that Brenda’s charm bracelet.

Michelle couldn’t figure out how she could dislike her mother and still be annoyed that Carly had her charm bracelet. She ignored the tightness in her chest and took the paper Carly offered.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“I’ve spoken to several of the restaurant managers in town and listed the openings they have. I explained why the staff was being let go and gave recommendations. Obviously it will help the people being let go, but it helps the inn, too. With the unemployment insurance.”

“Thank you,” Michelle mumbled, realizing she should have thought of that herself. She really was having to relearn her job. Not surprising after being gone for so long.

She studied the carefully handwritten names and numbers. “Damaris mentioned we should ask Cammie if she wants to stay on.”

“I thought so, too. Everyone says she’s great to work with. Did you want to talk to her tonight?”

“Sure.”

Carly had a list of the leased equipment that could be sent back and which would have to be kept for the terms of the lease.

“Here are my ideas for saving money,” she said, handing over three more sheets. “The first page talks about who we can let go and why, while the second two are different ideas for cutting our costs. I did a lot of brainstorming. Some of the ideas are a little out there, I know, but I put everything down, just in case one thing helps us brainstorm another.”

Michelle stared at the neat writing. She could feel herself moving from neutral to annoyed.

“How can you work here and not know how to use a computer?” she demanded before she could stop herself. “For someone who claims to know how, you’re sure avoiding showing me you can. Learn Excel. It’s not that hard.”

Carly stiffened. Her small fingers curled into her palms as she dropped her arms to her sides.

“I know how to use Excel,” she said quietly, her chin coming up.

“Then what’s with this?” Michelle waved the pages. “Oliver Twist? ‘Can I have some more, please?’ Why did you do these by hand?”

“I don’t have a computer.”

Michelle felt the fight bleed out of her. “Sure you do. In your office.”

“No, I don’t. The computer at the registration desk doesn’t have any other software on it. We were having problems with some of the summer help wasting time, so Brenda took off all the other programs. I used to use Brenda’s computer, but she decided she wanted it password protected a few months ago. She never told me what the password was, so I couldn’t get into anything.”

Michelle hated being wrong in general and being wrong in front of Carly really bugged her.

“We’ll get you a computer,” she mumbled. “Some cheap thing with the software you need. Otherwise, you’re no help to me.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m doing it out of purely selfish reasons.”

“That I believe.”

Michelle stared at Carly. The other woman’s expression didn’t change. She still looked stoic if a little wary, but humor brightened her blue eyes.

Michelle felt her own mouth start to twitch.

“What’s next?” she asked.

Carly motioned to the pages Michelle held. “My ideas for more savings.”

Michelle scanned the papers. “You want to cut housekeeping?”

“They’re not all working full days, even though they’re paid for eight hours.” She leaned forward. “I went through and reassigned rooms. The two bigger suites take longer, but the rest of the rooms go pretty quickly. I can pick up the slack. It means me doing two of the smaller rooms, three days a week. Not a problem. In return for that, we can let two people go.”

While the plan made sense, Michelle was looking for the catch. “You clean?”

Carly smiled. “I started as a maid. I know how, but feel free to check my work.”

“I thought you were pregnant when you came to work here.”

“I was. About eight months along.”

“Brenda had you cleaning?”

Carly shrugged. “I needed the work. It wasn’t that big a deal.”

Michelle didn’t know much about being pregnant, but scrubbing bathrooms all day seemed like a little more than someone that far along should be doing. She would have sworn there was no way she could ever feel bad for Carly. Leave it to Brenda to change that.

They went through the rest of Carly’s suggestions. They were well considered and made a serious dent in the day-to-day expenses. Between losing the staff required for dinner and two maids, payroll would be cut by more than Michelle had even hoped.

“I appreciate you doing this,” she said, feeling the pain in her hip crank up a notch. Sitting too long tended to aggravate it. So did standing and lying down.

“I want the inn to be a financial success. The alternative is it going to the bank and that doesn’t help anyone.” Carly paused as if realizing they were straying into dangerous territory. Talking about the bank meant talking about Ellen.

Michelle figured there had to be something between the two. Something in the past.

“Are you all right?” Carly asked. “I can tell you’re in pain. Can I do anything?”

Michelle shook her head. “My hip hurts. It’s healing, but it takes time.”

“Didn’t they give you something for the pain?”

“Sure. I don’t take it much. I get fuzzy.” Besides, she would rather drink when she got home. Even she knew painkillers and vodka didn’t mix.

“Won’t you heal better if you’re not in pain?”

Michelle shot her a warning look. “Leave it alone.”

“I don’t remember you being this sensitive before you left.”

“You go get shot and we’ll see how sensitive you are.” She held up a hand. “Sorry. I’m not at my most patient these days.”

“It’s okay.”

Michelle risked the truth. “Sometimes it feels like you’ve taken over my life. At least the good parts. And I’m left with the rest of it.”

“That’s not true.”

“It’s a little true. You have the owner’s apartment.”

Carly’s expression turned stricken. “We can move,” she said quickly.

“No. That’s not what I want. I’m happy where I’m renting. Distance is a good thing, right now. Besides, you’ve got Gabby.” Michelle managed a smile. “She’s great.”

“Thank you. I think so.” Carly hesitated, as if trying to make a decision. Then she nodded once and spoke. “I married Allen for all the wrong reasons. Believe me, I paid for that. He stole everything from me, because I was stupid. I had nothing. I was pregnant without a penny. I didn’t have a job and I was so sick at first I couldn’t keep one. I didn’t have medical insurance or anything. Brenda hired me when I was eight months pregnant. She gave me a place to stay and didn’t care that I waddled rather than walked. I wasn’t taking your place, Michelle. I was desperate and I thought she was going to rescue me.”

Michelle found herself feeling sorry for her. “Brenda wouldn’t rescue anyone but herself.”

Carly sighed. “I figured that out the hard way.”

Of that, Michelle was sure. She had grown up with her mother’s inconsistent rules and narcissistic worldviews. An action that made her mother laugh one day could be cause for a month’s grounding the next. Everything was judged by how it related to her. They rarely went out to eat, but when they did, Brenda played her games. If she and Michelle ordered different things, Brenda wanted what her daughter ordered and would take her meal. If they ordered the same, Brenda claimed hers tasted funny. She would send it back and get something else. Brenda would tell her not to waste money on presents for holidays, then complain to all who would listen that her selfish daughter never bought her anything.

As much as Michelle didn’t want to admit it, she knew Carly had truly been alone in the world. Alone and responsible for the child growing inside of her. Perhaps the most vulnerable a woman could be.

Brenda had taken advantage of that. She would have been unable to resist having someone beholden to her. Someone to twist and slowly destroy. Gabby’s happy nature was a testament to Carly’s determination and love.

BOOK: Barefoot Season
5.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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