The Guestbook (21 page)

Eventually, he stood and brushed himself off, regaining his composure. “There are other women, I don’t need her.”

With renewed resolve, Brad headed back to the car. The driver’s door was still open, as if some madman had left hurriedly while being chased by a demon. He pulled out a comb and fixed his hair, using the rearview mirror. He pulled back onto the country highway, his brain now back in full gear. He kept glaring at the cell phone on the dash, waiting for the bars to indicate a signal. When he reached the ferry dock, the bars came up and he dialed his attorney. “Rick, it’s Brad. I’m leaving Washington, first plane I can catch. I’ll be in to see you tomorrow to sign papers.”

He knew now she would not come back. As much as it tore at his gut to lose, it was time to move on. He would start again with someone who appreciated him. Let Lily rot in the country. She’d never see a dime from him, he’d make sure of that.

Lily wrapped herself in a wool shawl and retreated to the porch swing, which swayed with the light wind. Brad’s visit was unnerving. She rocked back and forth like the tides, letting the steady rhythm calm her jangled nerves. The sunset expanded across the horizon, casting a pale shade of violet across the snowy peaks of the Olympic Mountains. Deep shades of pink and gold reflected then dispersed across the watery inlet. On the grassy rise by the McPherson barn, deer munched in the grass, foraging for supper.

A trusty blue heron, always the last bird she saw in the sky, made his way home, racing the darkening sky. She clutched the shawl tighter as the icy breeze brushed through her hair, leaving behind it the scent of the sea. Her shoulders dropped, releasing what felt like a great weight of worry. Decisions needed to be made, it was time. She couldn’t procrastinate, pretend, or avoid any longer.

As the sun cast a bronze ray across the crystal water, an idea surfaced, resonating clearly in her mind and heart. She would re-open the bed and breakfast, and do it soon. She could see the newly decorated rooms, smell the fabulous delicacies she would create in the farmhouse kitchen. The bookkeeper had kept accurate records until about a year ago when the B&B closed. The inn had shown a good profit, especially in the summer months. If her grandmother could do it…she could too!

She walked inside and retrieved the Guestbook from her nightstand. She held it snugly to her chest, as if to infuse the love it held into her spirit. It was almost like having her grandmother at her side. It might look a bit silly doing this, she thought, but at least she felt less alone now. “Okay, work your magic,” she said as she closed her eyes and opened the book to reveal its contents. Written, in a flawless script, the entry read:

There is no place I would rather be than here at Madrona Island B&B on this beautiful island. No matter how big my problems, they melt away when I am here.

~Cate P.   Seattle, WA

This inn was a Godsend. Staying here during the time our home was being repaired from the flood really helped us recover from the shock. Thank you, Margaret, for all your kindness.

Tesia and Jan–just down the road

Your hospitality touched my heart. I so enjoyed the opportunity to center and reflect with the wind and the tides. The time here reminded me how all things are possible.

Barb
–
Santa Rosa, CA

Lily wondered how her grandmother must have felt knowing she had been instrumental in delivering such loving and peaceful experiences to so many people from all kinds of families and backgrounds. She walked into the parlor and looked at the bright, wide-open kitchen waiting to be used, the long oak table and chairs with no one to
sit on them. Upstairs, the fluffy beds remained empty. There were hundreds of people who might want to stay here again, people who still called to ask for reservations. She too could bring that kind of joy to others.

In fact, she would love to do it. It would demand everything she enjoyed and was good at: making rooms beautiful, growing flowers and herbs, creating and serving gourmet meals that would tantalize the palette and warm the soul.  And when she found that darn brownie recipe, the mail order potential was unlimited; she could sell them all over the world. The image of herself as the Brownie Queen draped in robes and a crown, and Brad groveling at her feet, was very satisfying. She could expand the brownie flavors, use herbs like lavender in them, or create a spicy cayenne brownie bite.

No time like the present to create the Madrona Island Bed and Breakfast website. And blog. She had plenty of experience blogging anonymously for the Angel Paws Shelter in Los Angeles. She went to the computer in the office, opened her web browser and typed in “buy a domain name.” “Let’s try www.MadronaIslandBandB.com. Yes, it’s available!”

The ideas flowed, and she had to share them with someone. She would call Jude and Kyla, meet for drinks and celebrate. A certainty swept over her like a cool wave on a hot day.  Anything was possible here…even finding a new dream of her own. And her grandmother would have been so pleased. She took one last glimpse out the window at the sun dropping below the horizon, reflecting off the blazing red bark of the Madrona trees. Somewhere, it was rising for a new day. For her, Madrona Island B&B would be her own personal sunrise.

The smells radiating through the house made Lily’s mouth water. The peach cobbler with a mascarpone cheese center was baking at a low temperature and spicing up the air with smells of summer. She checked the tomato, mushroom, and garlic sauce simmering on the stove and filled the pasta pot with water to pre-boil. The table was set for eight. Her seven dearest friends were in the parlor, awaiting the official announcement that she was reopening the inn.

“Table set, check. Pinot Noir breathing, check. Caesar salad on the table. What am I forgetting? Ah, the apple cider for Jason.”

She removed the French bread from under the broiler and placed the cookie sheet on the counter. Humming softly, she brushed fine olive oil over the warm slices and then rubbed each one with a fresh garlic clove. Each piece was lightly sprinkled with grated Parmesan cheese, a splash of kosher salt, and fresh ground pepper, then set on a serving dish. She popped a spoon in the mushroom sauce for a taste.

Ian poked his head in the kitchen. “The smells are killing me, hope you don’t mind if I take a peek?”

“Help yourself, there’s a spoon on the counter. No fingers!” The timer went off on the buzzer, and she hurried to the kitchen to drain the al dente pasta, smother it with sauce, and bring the steaming plates to the table.

“Ian, can you start carrying these to the table?”

“Sure thing.”

She entered the parlor, the wine in one hand and the cider in another. “Everyone to the table.”

After each guest took their seat, she filled their glasses while Ian served the pasta.

“Have a seat, Lily,” Jude said. “We can handle it from here.”

Lily joined them at the table and held up her glass for a toast. All eyes were on her. Kyla raised an eyebrow in expectation.

“Out with it,” Shirley demanded.

With a broad smile, Lily made the toast. “To the reopening of Madrona Island Bed and Breakfast, and to the new innkeeper…me!”

Everyone clicked their glasses, offering congratulations.

“About time,” Shirley said. “I knew you’d figure it out.”

“And with no help from you, I might add,” Betty said, glaring at her sister.

Jude held up her glass next. “To friends.”

“To new beginnings,” Kyla said.

“And to lots of cookies!” Jason said, holding up his glass of cider.

Lily looked from face to face. This was her new family. She wished her mom could be there. Katherine had promised to come up and help with the painting soon. And she had insisted on sending a check. Everyone she loved would be in one place soon, right here on Madrona Island.

Ian caught her gaze. “I’d be happy to help in any way.  Along with my painting, my
carpentry skills are pretty good too.”

“Not as good as mine,” John said with a smile. “I’ll be over tomorrow to work on that picket fence up front. Think I have some white paint for it too.”

She smiled. “That’ll help. I’m going to be on a very tight budget.”

“I’ll take care of the plumbing problems,” Betty said.

Not to be outdone, Shirley offered to help with the decorating.

“I forgot to tell you,” John said. “Went to the county a few days ago. You weren’t available, so I asked about your property, too. Turns out they had no idea the inn was closed. Changed everything. And nothing was overdue, it was an oversight with all the legal papers and such.”

Lily breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much, John.”

He tipped his hat to her. “Any time.”

“I can hammer nails,” Jason said.

“And I’ll feed all the workers from my kitchen,” Jude said. “I know a few guys who will be happy to help. I’ll send them over.”

“Thanks, all of you.” Lily twirled the spaghetti with her fork and took her first bite. She noticed Ian’s plate was almost empty already, and only one piece of bruschetta remained.  “When was the last time you had a home-cooked meal, Ian?”

“Caught me,” he said with a grin. He winked at John. “Grandpa’s chili is good, but it really has been awhile.” He looked up at her sheepishly. “Pretty obvious, is it? Should I slow down to a more dignified pace?”

“Forget it,” Lily said. “Just enjoy. I don’t think we need to worry about being dignified here tonight.”

It was a pleasure to see people truly relish her cooking. It reminded her just how wonderful it felt to bring joy to people through her culinary creations. Tomorrow she would start preparing the menu for the new B&B.

Lily ate a few more bites then rose to clear off the plates. “Why don’t you all go sit by the fire in the parlor, and I’ll brew some coffee and finish up the dessert.”

“I’ll help,” Jude said.

“I’m making my way to the parlor now as instructed,” Ian said with a smile.

In the kitchen, she plated the cobblers, put them on a tray, and dressed them with a dollop of fresh whipped cream. She handed Jude the tray of cobbler. “Be right there. Thanks, Jude.”

Carefully, she poured the coffee into china cups—a hot chocolate for Jason—and placed them on a wooden cart that she wheeled into the parlor. As she entered the room, Ian gestured for her to take a seat beside him. She served the coffee then joined him on the loveseat, but not too close. For now, they were just friends. The only sound in the room was the tapping of the forks on the china plates and the crackling of the fire.

Without a doubt, Lily knew she had made the right decision. Just like her grandma used to say: Things always worked out if you just let them.

There was so much to do, and just under two months to do it in. The list just kept getting longer and longer. The grand re-opening was set for July fourth, and thanks to finding Grandma’s mailing list, all the invitations were out in the mail and through email. If it weren’t for all her friends on the island pitching in, this miraculous event would not be occurring.

Lily and Mary surveyed the timeline. White picket fence: repainted. Wood floors: polished. Guestrooms: in process of being painted, but still not finished. And she still needed to find some inexpensive new decorating items for the house and garden. The farmer’s market started this second Saturday in May, and Jude assured her that everything could be found there.

Mary pulled out a pad of paper and pen. “I think it’s time we planned out the menu for the big party.”

Lily went over to her desk and opened up her computer. “C’mon over and have a look. I have a few ideas.”

Mary pulled over a chair and joined her at the desk. “Champagne, pretty fancy.”

Lily laughed. “It is a celebration, in more than one way. I’ll be just about officially divorced by that day as well.”

“Well, champagne it is then!”

Lily scrolled through the list. “How does this sound? We’ll bake some honey raisin, rosemary, and olive breads and then a whole table of meat and cheese platters and fresh salads.”

“Good, and I can make my goddess fruit salad and ask Shirley to bring her famous potato salad.”

“Perfect,” Lily said, making notations on the document. “I’ll whip up some fresh guacamole, hummus, and an assortment of crackers. And my new island quiche with scallops, bacon, and Swiss.”

Lily’s fingers picked across the keyboard, creating a long list of groceries and supplies needed. “Wow, lots to buy.” She thought about the deposits coming in for the guests that would be renting rooms that weekend. If that kept up, this would surely work out just fine.

Mary patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Lily, everyone will want to bring stuff. I can organize that. In fact, I’m sure Jude will bring plenty too.”

“What about music, know anyone?” Lily asked.

“Do I know anyone?” Mary said. “My cousin, Seth, plays a mean guitar with his band, and I guarantee he’ll work for free. So will the amazing flute and harp group at my church.”

Lily threw her arms around Mary. “What would I do without you?”

“I better go before you make me cry.” Mary took her chair back to the table and reached for her purse. “Wait, we forgot the best part. What about dessert?”

“No problem there,” Lily said. “For one, I’m going to find that killer brownie recipe
and I can bake up bunches of Inn Style cookies.”

“I’ll bake pies,” Mary said. “Loganberry and apple sound good?”

Lily rubbed her stomach. “Wish I had a piece right now.”

“Back tomorrow,” Mary said, closing the door behind her.

It was only 2:00, and Lily still had time to put another Facebook announcement up about the inn’s grand opening before Dana from Cascade Market and his brother arrived. His wife had just had twin girls, and he still managed to find the time to help her. She would thank them all with the best grand opening party they had ever seen.

Dana’s truck pulled into the driveway, and Lily hurried outside to greet them.

“Hey, Lily, this is my brother, Murray, he’s an electrician. I dragged him along to take a look at the old wiring.”

Lily shook his hand. “Thanks so much for coming over.” She could tell they were brothers with one look. Both were slim, auburn-haired, and had kind smiles. “Can I get you both some homemade lemonade and cookies?”

The brothers looked at each other then nodded in agreement. “Which cookie is on the menu today?” Dana asked.

“I’ll surprise you,” Lily said, turning back toward the house.

“Sounds good, we’ll just get to work and stay out of your hair.”

The postal truck pulled up, and Cyndi, the mail carrier, held up a bunch of mail out her window and tucked it in the box before driving off. Dread churned in Lily’s stomach at the anticipation of Brad’s response to her final divorce terms she’d asked her attorney to deliver. She wanted this divorce to be over. Money was coming in pretty steadily from her baking business, but it just wasn’t enough for upkeep on the place and the costs of remodeling. She refused to take any loans. As it was, she was accepting much too much help from Ian with repairs, and from Jude, for a myriad of things. Good people, those two, she thought. I owe them so much.

The newly hand-painted mailbox looked like a fancy birdhouse with little windows and brightly colored shutters.  Wild morning glories wove their way up the base, creating a fairytale effect. Lily pulled open the latch and reached in to retrieve the mail. A large manila envelope sat on top. It was from her attorney.

“Guess I can’t avoid this much longer,” she murmured under her breath.

Lily looked around at the acres of beauty she had come to love. The perfect tranquil spot on the water, the lovely pale yellow farmhouse with its wraparound porch, and the iridescent blue waves of the Sound moving over the sand. This was something she did not want to lose; this was home.  She could see John working in his garden next door and hear Gretel barking at the crows. She was comfortable, happy, accepted here. This was her place, it always was and she hoped it always would be. Not even Brad could change that.

Returning to the farmhouse, she kicked off her shoes, dropped the rest of the mail on the entry table, and carried the large envelope to her bedroom. Somehow she felt safer there, fortified by the presence of her grandmother. Her stocking feet wore a path back and forth over the mauve carpet as she worked up enough courage to open the papers. Maybe she should call her mother first? Of course not, her mother would just tell her to open and read it.

“Ok, ok.” Lily curled up in the big overstuffed floral chair and threw the rainbow-colored chenille spread, a gift from Kyla, over her legs. Heart pounding, she tore open the
envelope and started to read. So much legal nonsense to wade through, but finally she got to the results of what six months of legal battling had brought her. She couldn’t believe it. She jumped up and threw the papers in the air. “Yes! Yes,” she said dancing around the room. She had to tell someone immediately or she would burst.

Her mom’s answering machine picked up. “Mom, are you there? It’s important. Mom?”

For a moment she feared her mother would be too busy to talk to her, just like when she’d been growing up. She remembered the calls when she was home alone after school. “Lily, just microwave something from the freezer, I’ll be late. Lily, I’m sorry to miss your recital, but I have to work, Lily, Lily…”

“Lily, are you there?”

“Yes, Mom, I’m here. Thanks for taking my call.”

“Of course. Is everything all right?”

“I received the response to the final terms I offered Brad.”

She heard Katherine catch her breath. “And?”

“And,” Lily said, “it’s over! I got everything I asked for.” Lily tossed off the spread and danced around the room. “I keep Grandma’s house free and clear, my car, and I am debt free.”

“That’s all?” Katherine asked. “What about alimony?”

“Mom, there was nothing really to take. I have what I wanted most. I’m free of Brad, and Madrona Island B&B is mine. Brad keeps the mortgaged house, his failing business, and everything else, including all the debt.”

Katherine chuckled. “Sounds fair to me. I’m sure, with his resourcefulness, he’ll land on his feet again. So, how’s everything else going?  The baking business doing well?”

“Very well. I’m busy with orders from the Island Thyme Café every day, and from other shops too. You wouldn’t believe all the help I am getting from my friends here with the remodel. Reservations are pouring in for the Inn after I found Grandma’s address list and sent out a mailer announcing the grand re-opening.”

“Good thinking! Your grandmother was very industrious. You obviously inherited that from her. She managed to keep her home and property for all those years, even with the high property taxes and overhead.”

“I hope I can do as well as her, Mom.”

“You will, Lily; you’re a lot like her. Creative, strong-willed, kind, and very likeable!”

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll let you go now.” Lily hesitated for a moment with the words she really wanted to say. “Love you, Mom.”

“Love you too, Lily. See you soon.”

✦✦✦✦

Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny. After completing her list of items she wanted to buy, Lily went into the house and called Jude to meet her at the farmer’s market. Maybe they would hit a few thrift shops too.

The Island Farmer’s and Flea Market sprawled over several acres around a pond on what used to be an old chicken farm nestled in a central valley of the island. Some of the dilapidated chicken coops had been cleaned thoroughly and turned into stalls to show off the fine wares for sale–from local honey and fresh fruit, to used baby furniture and
handmade crafts.  The dirt parking lot was filled with cars, and crowds of tourists and locals meandered along the straw-covered paths to find bargains and delicacies. Children ran along the edge of the pond chasing ducks. Family dogs wandered along with their people. The sun was out, and after a long winter, it was a welcome relief.

Lily stepped out of the car, happy to finally be wearing sandals and a light cotton blouse. The lively sights and rich smells left her wondering where to go first.

Jude pounced out of the car and, hands on her hips, surveyed the scene. “Pretty nice spread today. Yum, I smell cinnamon rolls. Brett must be here. Let’s go.”

Lily had heard of Brett’s famous cinnamon rolls and was glad she would finally be able to taste one.  Brett’s booth consisted of boxes of gigantic cinnamon rolls, half iced, half plain.

“What’ll you have?” he asked with a smile.

“Two with the icing,” Jude said. “And this is Lily, owns Maggie’s old place.”

Brett shook her hand, “Nice to meet you. I hear you’re gonna be opening the B&B again soon?”

“Word travels fast,” Lily said. “Hope you’ll come to the grand opening July fourth.”

“Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll bring the missus and the kids too.”

They wandered on, admiring other booths. The scent of fresh kettle corn permeated the air. A booth overflowing with fresh-picked produce called to Lily, but the lilac-scented soaps and creams won out as her first destination. “Delightful,” she declared. Lily turned to a young woman wearing a colorful print blouse and blue jeans. Her dark hair swung down her back in a single long braid. “Do you make these yourself?” Lily asked.

“Sure do, out at the Lavender Farm,” she said. “We also do tea-rose-scented soaps. They’re in the back. Come on in and have a look.” Hearing the word “rose,” Lily had a flash of inspiration. She would place local handmade soaps and hand creams in each guestroom, in the color and scent associated with the room.  She would use rose, lavender, and for the Honeymoon Suite, jasmine. Lemon verbena for the pale yellow room would be perfect. She liked the idea of supporting her community’s businesspeople. Lily turned over the thick, hardy, sweet-smelling soaps, holding each to her nose, and exhaled, “Aaahhhh.” She tried the fragrant cream on her own hands and squirted the rose onto Jude’s hands.

Jude leaned in close and whispered, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Lily nodded her head a definite yes.

“Kyla can make up some products for you too,” Jude continued.

“Right, I’ll give her call.” Lily took the Lavender Farm’s card, planning on visiting the website that night.

The next booth had fresh goat milk and creamy goat cheese samples smothered over crackers. This is a must have, Lily thought. “Hi, I’m Lily Parkins,” she said, stumbling a little on her maiden name, “and this is my friend, Jude. I own Madrona Island Bed and Breakfast, and I wonder if we could talk sometime about stocking your products at my inn?”

“Happy to talk any time. I love that old place. My husband and I were married there a few years back.” She reached out her hand. “Gina Marino, nice to meet you, Lily.”

Lily took Gina’s card and price list and promised to call soon. She and Jude moved along the gift and craft booths, passing candles and pottery, crocheted potholders and wood carvings. The produce and flower area lay straight ahead. One of the larger old
chicken coops was strung with every size of hanging basket, each one filled with ferns and flowers, ivy and herbs. Perfect for her front porch. On the ground there were some clay pots full of seedlings ready to plant, marked with little signs telling the name and whether they took shade or sun. She could use those to fill out the garden.

“Jim, so good to see you,” exclaimed Jude as she hugged the tall, long-haired gardener in the planter stall. “Lily, come meet Jim, the best gardener on the island.” The two exchanged hellos.

Jude questioned him. “Haven’t seen you around town for a while, I was wondering if you’d be at the market.” Jim stared at Jude for a minute too long, Lily noticed; sort of a shy but interested look. She’d just leave them alone for a little while. “Jude, I’ll be right back. I’m going to check out the old dishes and stuff over there.”