There's Always Plan B (4 page)

Which meant Carly didn't have a lot of options. Either she stayed and fought for the B and B or she left and started over somewhere else. While she'd been working steadily for the past twenty years, she wasn't sure her recent job qualified her for much. Sure she'd run an office, but it had been small and the paycheck had matched.

Eighteen years ago things had been different. She'd been a successful events planner and she'd loved the work. In three years she'd risen to the top, with a list of clients that made her competition weep. But then she'd had Tiffany, and the sixty- to seventy-hour workweeks and constant late nights had been impossible with a baby.

In an effort to balance her love of event planning with having a husband and a baby, she'd turned to wedding planning. While the hours had been better, Neil had hated her being gone nearly every weekend. In truth, she'd never seen him. So she'd quit that, too, and had found the office manager job.

Could she go back to events planning? Unfortunately she hadn't kept in touch with many of her old friends from the business. Plus she wouldn't like the hours anymore now than she had when Tiffany had been a baby. One of the reasons she'd come to the B and B was so that she could be around for her daughter. These last three years before she went off to college were important and Carly didn't want to miss them.

But she also had a responsibility to put food on the table and a roof over their heads. If events planning wasn't an option and L.A. was too expensive and she wasn't staying here, then she would need to look at moving somewhere else. There had to be places with a less crazy cost of living.

If only she had—

A soft knock on her door brought her to her feet. Carly crossed the floor and pulled open the door. Tiffany stood in front of her. The teen wore teddy bear pajamas and carried a tattered stuffed dog in her arms.

“What's up?” Carly asked.

“Nothing.” Tiffany shrugged as she stepped inside. “My room is great. It's just…” She shrugged. “You know.”

“It's a little creepy up there?”

Tiffany dropped her chin. “Maybe a little. I'll be completely fine,” she added quickly. “I love my room. I just thought, you know, for the first night.”

Carly glanced at the large bed, then closed the door. “Sure, you can sleep with me.”

“Good.”

Tiffany ran and jumped on the bed. “I took the back stairs. It's really weird because the house is so quiet, but there are all these noises.”

“Old places are known for that.”

“It made me think of the ghost. Not that she's real.”

Carly stretched out in the bed. Tiffany set her dog on the nightstand, then shimmied under the blankets. She snuggled close and rested her head on Carly's shoulder.

“Grandma was pretty cool tonight,” the teenager said. “We watched HBO together.”

“Nothing R-rated, right?”

“Oh, Mo-om. You're so old.”

“Grandma's older than me.”

“Yeah, but she's more fun.”

Carly tried not to take the comment personally. As her daughter's mother, it was her job to be a parent, not a buddy. But just once she would like someone else to be the bad guy for a while. Neil was never willing to take on that task. Of course, he'd never bothered all that much with his daughter, despite the fact that Tiffany adored him.

She stretched up and turned off the light, then settled back on the bed. Tiffany sighed.

“Where do you think Daddy is?” she asked, almost as if she knew her mother had been thinking of Neil.

“I don't know. I thought he was going to stay in L.A. for a while. Until he bought his boat.”

“Do you think he's really going to sail to Hawaii?”

“That's what he said.”

“Wow. It's so far. And there aren't any, like, places to stop.”

“I'm sure he'll take a good map.”

Carly did her best to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Neil got to buy a boat and run off to Hawaii while she was left behind to be the grown-up. Again.

“Do you think…” Tiffany hesitated, then swallowed. “Do you think he misses me?”

“Of course he does. You're his best girl.”

“I guess. It's just he never wanted to, you know, spend time with me, and he hasn't called since he left.”

“He'll call,” Carly said, then vowed she would find Neil and force him to call his daughter. Damn the man for being such an insensitive bastard, she thought grimly. How could he do this to Tiffany? She could try to forgive a lot of things, but never that.

She wrapped her arms around Tiffany and squeezed. “He's going through a lot right now. But he'll settle into his new life and you can be a part of it. That will be fun.”

“Yeah. We can go sailing together.”

“Good idea.”

Tiffany sighed. “It's nice here. I kinda didn't want to come because I thought it would be way stupid, but I like the house. You're not going to make me clean rooms, are you?”

“We'll negotiate a chore list,” Carly said. “The maids make pretty good money.”

“How good?”

“Let's talk in the morning.”

“Okay. Night.”

“Night, baby. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mom.”

Carly listened to her daughter's breathing. It didn't take very long for it to slow and get very deep. When Tiffany was asleep, Carly tried to memorize everything about this moment—how her daughter clung to her even in sleep, the way her hair smelled, the feel of her thin arms. There wouldn't be many more nights when Tiffany needed to sleep with her mom to feel safe, and Carly didn't want to miss a moment of what might be the last one.

“They grow up too fast,” she whispered.

Carly
woke up to a morning so beautiful, she couldn't help but feel optimistic about the day and her future. She left her daughter asleep and went downstairs to fire up her morning with a jumbo mug of coffee. Sunshine, the smell of the ocean and a jolt of caffeine. Did it get any better than that?

She took the back stairs instead of the elevator and enjoyed the play of light on the old paneling. Even the servants had had a view, she thought humorously as she walked across the landing and glanced out at the expanse of gardens below. When she reached the main floor, she headed for the kitchen. If she hadn't been sure of her destination, the mouthwatering scent of cinnamon and something baking would have drawn her in.

Anticipation quickened her steps. Not just for the yummy stuff, but also to see Maribel. Although they talked regularly by phone, she hadn't seen her friend in over a year.

“Hey, you,” Carly said as she opened the kitchen door and stepped inside. “You're up early.”

Maribel pulled something out of the oven, straightened, turned and grinned. “You made it!”

Carly waited until her friend put down the baking sheet, then approached. She opened her arms wide for a hug, only to come to a complete stop and stare.

“You're…you're…”

Maribel laughed, then smoothed the front of her white chef's coat over her belly. “Pregnant. I know.”

“But…You can't be. You're…”

Carly didn't know what to say. “Too old,” came to mind. As she and Maribel were practically the same age, her friend was also within weeks of turning forty.

“You didn't say anything,” Carly told her instead.

“I know.” Maribel moved close and hugged her. “When I found out about the baby, you and Neil had already started talking about the divorce. I didn't know if I should share my news or not. Then when you mentioned coming here, I figured I'd tell you in person. Don't be mad at me. I was seriously torn.”

“I'm not mad. I couldn't be. I'll admit to being stunned. A baby. Wow.”

Carly squeezed her, then stepped back. She studied her friend's bright, happy expression and the blush on her cheeks. Always petite and curvy, Maribel now defined lush. Her new shorter haircut emphasized her pretty features.

“You look amazing. Seriously, you're doing the glowing thing. But a baby? Are you excited?”

“I am now,” Maribel admitted. “But at first it was a real shock. Only Dani's still in high school, the other three are in college. Pete and I figured we were finally going to buy that RV and see the world. Or at least the part we can drive to. Then this happened.”

She touched her stomach. “I cried for three days when the doctor told me I didn't have the flu. Then I had a dream I wasn't pregnant and I woke myself up crying because I was so sad. That's when I figured I really
did
want the baby.”

Carly nodded, even though she didn't understand. She and Maribel had gone different ways—Carly had attended college for a couple of years before starting in events planning and Maribel had married right out of high school. She'd had her first child on her twentieth birthday.

“Tiffany's fifteen,” she said. “I can't imagine starting over with a newborn now.”

“The kids are still getting over the shock,” Maribel said as she walked to the island and began cutting up strawberries. “I suspect it's a whole lot more about Mom and Dad having sex than the actual idea of a baby.”

“Pregnant,” Carly said, still trying to take it in. Talk about a life change. “You're putting my divorce in perspective. When are you due?”

“Four more months.”

Carly eyed her friend's large stomach. “Really?”

Maribel laughed. “Yeah, I know. I'm huge. I've always carried big, but this time I swear it's part elephant.”

Carly walked over to the baking pan and stared at the cinnamon rolls. “Want me to take these out?”

“That would be great. So, enough about me and my surprise. How are you doing?”

“Okay. It's weird to be back.”

Maribel dumped the cut strawberries into the fruit bowl. “Have you talked to your mom about anything?” she asked, sounding neutral.

Carly appreciated the sensitivity. “If you're asking if she's already mentioned that she wants me to use my divorce settlement to rescue the B and B, then yes. If it's something else, I'm not sure I could handle it.”

“No, it's the money thing,” Maribel said. “She's been really anxious for you to arrive. It's all she talks about.”

Carly didn't consider that especially good news. “It's the week before Easter,” she said. “Shouldn't we be busier?”

“Things have been slow for a while,” Maribel admitted. “Bookings are dropping off. My food order is about half what it was this time last year.”

“As bad as that,” Carly said quietly. So much for hoping her mother had been exaggerating the situation.

A timer
dinged.
Maribel moved to the second oven and pulled out a pan of muffins. Carly drew in a deep breath.

“Those smell heavenly, too. Now I don't know which I want.”

“Have one of each,” Maribel urged.

“I'd love to, but I don't have the cash flow to replace my wardrobe with a larger size.” One of the joys of getting older, Carly thought. She could no longer eat whatever she wanted and still fit into her clothes. Soon she was going to have to get serious about organized exercise, and how twisted was that?

“Do you have any big plans for the B and B?” Maribel asked. “Your mom thought you might.”

Carly sensed her friend's interest was more than casual. No doubt she wanted to keep her job. The hours were perfect for someone with children and Maribel had always loved cooking.

“Not off the top of my head,” Carly admitted. “I didn't think I would have to jump in to rescue a failing business my first day back.”

Actually she'd planned on relaxing a little, basking in the whole “moving back home” thing. But apparently not.

“It would be a shame to lose all this,” Maribel said.

Carly agreed. Did she want to save it, and if she did, could she?

They both turned at the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Tiffany pushed open the swinging door and smiled shyly.

“Hi,” she said. “You got up way early.”

Carly glanced at the clock and raised her eyebrows. “So did you. You remember my friend Maribel, don't you?”

“Uh-huh. Hi.” Tiffany inhaled. “I remember your muffins, too. You're the best cook.”

“Aren't you sweet for saying so.” Maribel grabbed a paper towel and pulled one of the muffins out of the pan. “Be careful,” she said as she handed it to Tiffany. “They're still hot.”

“Thanks. I'm going to walk around outside,” Tiffany said.

“Have fun,” Carly told her. She wanted to add something about not going too far, or staying away from the main road, but she held back. Her daughter was smart enough to know all that and right now Carly couldn't face another eye roll.

The back door slammed shut behind her. Maribel sighed.

“She's beautiful and she looks a whole lot more grownup than fifteen.”

“Tell me about it. Older guys are constantly asking her out and I'm stuck trying to explain why this isn't a good thing.”

“It gets worse,” Maribel said cheerfully. “But then it gets better. Of course just when they settle down enough that you want to spend more time with them, they go off to college. Isn't that the way?”

“I don't remember being
that
much trouble,” Carly grumbled.

“Me, either, but I'm guessing we were. Remember how we were going to change the world?” Maribel laughed. “I was going to live in Paris and become a world-class chef. You were going to marry a movie star and plan fabulous parties for all of Hollywood.”

While Carly could remember talking endlessly about what she and Maribel had wanted to do with their lives, she had an odd feeling of being disconnected from the whole thing. As if it had been someone else dreaming those dreams.

Maribel picked up a kiwifruit and started peeling it. “That was a long time ago. Funny how now I don't want anything but what I have.”

Carly envied her friend her contentment. If pressed, Carly wasn't sure she could say what
she
wanted. Not anymore. Maybe not in a long time.

 

Carly put off unpacking to go online on her laptop. If she and Tiffany didn't stay here to make a go of things, they were going to need an alternate plan. But what? Her most recent occupation wasn't about to excite anyone and she didn't have the start-up capital or the savings to try going out on her own as an events planner.

She went to a couple of different cost-of-living Web sites and found out that she could indeed support herself and Tiffany on a doctor's office manager's salary in, say, Bakersfield. Or if they left the state. There were a lot of places cheaper to live in than Los Angeles.

If she wasn't at the B and B she wouldn't want to stay here. It would be too hard to be close to the house but not a part of it.

Is that what she wanted? To move somewhere new and start over without friends or family nearby? Not that there were all that many friends since the divorce. But still, there was the whole pain of leaving the familiar.

She left the Internet and went into the word-processing program. Maybe a list of pros and cons, she thought. Reasons to stay in L.A., reasons to stay and make the B and B work and reasons to locate elsewhere.

In Los Angeles, she had contacts, even if she hadn't used them in years. She might be able to land a job working for an events planner. Of course, as she reflected again, the hours
were
hideously long and she would be home while Tiffany was in school and gone the rest of the time.

If she stayed here, she would have to bring the B and B back from wherever it was and make it successful again. Which meant she needed to know how bad things were. As her mother wasn't the most forthcoming of information givers, Carly wasn't looking forward to
that
conversation. But staying meant being able to hang out with her daughter, to attend school functions, to be a mom.

Carly leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. There were a thousand details to consider under any scenario. Like medical insurance. Getting it for Tiffany wouldn't be that difficult, but what about herself? Was she going to be considered “hard to insure” because of her age? And what about the fact that she would soon turn forty and have to check a different box on all those forms that asked for age in groups? Perhaps not relevant for her job search, but still depressing.

She looked back at her list. Obviously staying here was the best solution, assuming she could find a way to make it work.

Carly remembered growing up here. The B and B had always been crammed with guests. They were sold out for all the major holidays months in advance. There had been a wedding every Saturday from May through September. The holidays had been magical, with period decorations covering every inch of the public rooms. And she'd felt safe and happy, secure in the knowledge that she knew where she came from and where she was going.

“We could make that happen again,” Carly told herself. “
I
could make it happen.”

She had determination, drive and a willingness to do the hard work. Surely that would be enough. Which meant first up, she had to get accurate information from her mother.

Conveniently, Carly heard Rhonda calling for her. Unfortunately, Tiffany was also yelling for her, and the teenager didn't sound happy.

Carly saved the information and closed the computer program. Then she began the shut-down process as she yelled, “In here. What's going on?”

Tiffany marched in first. Her daughter looked upset and defiant. Tears sparkled in her eyes.

“Grandma's being mean,” she announced.

“Your daughter is very spoiled and uncooperative,” Rhonda said from behind the teenager.

Tiffany turned on the older woman. “You can't be serious. It's totally illegal to make me work so much. There are child labor laws. I know—I read about them in school. You can't exploit young workers for your own financial gain.”

Rhonda's eyes widened with indignation. “I would think you'd be more grateful that I took you in, young lady. You're spoiled.”

“Am not.”

Carly stared at her daughter. “Tiffany, you're speaking to your grandmother.”

Tiffany opened her mouth, then closed it. “She started it.”

Rhonda looked smug. “You should have your daughter help more around the house. If she's part of the family, she needs to have responsibilities.”

Carly wanted to reprimand her mother, too, but knew it wouldn't go over well.