9.

 

If there’s one good thing that comes from my utter humiliation with Ash, I decide, it’s my renewed focus on the B&B. I can’t risk running into him in town, so I stay locked away at the house for the next three days, painting and laundering everything in sight and packing Nana’s personal effects away. By Friday morning, Rose Cottage is all ready for the first guests to arrive. It’s never looked better.

“It’s amazing!” Juliet exclaims, when I show her the bare-bones website I created to showcase the new look. “It looks so charming and quaint.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.” I click through to the next page, displaying one of the guest rooms. “I know it’s not fancy,” I add, self-conscious about the basic webpage. “But it has all the information up, and I linked to town events and tourist sites in the area too. Hopefully this will help bring more people in. I only have two bookings for the rest of this month.”

“Anyone who sees this will want to come stay,” Juliet reassures me. “I can’t believe you’ve done so much in just a few days.”

“Let’s just say, I had my motivation,” I reply grimly, glancing around the diner for any hint of Ash. It’s the first time I’ve ventured out since my total embarrassment, and I’m on high alert for any sign of his dark hair and muscular build.

“Well, I think it’s amazing.” Juliet smiles. “And I bet my sister, Carina, will have some advice about getting the word out. She’s a PR whizz,” she adds, then checks the clock on the wall. “You know, I’m due over there to babysit right now, if you want to come along, I’ll introduce you.”

“That would be great!” I put down some money to cover our lunch, and follow her outside. As usual, the town is bustling with summer activity. Some people are putting up ticker-tape around the gazebo, and a banner too. “What’s going on?” I ask, as we stroll down towards the harbor.

“Oh, it’s a big party we throw every year,” Juliet explains. “There’s a cook-out and live music. It’s a lot of fun.”

“Sounds great. I’ll remember to tell my guests all about it. The first ones arrive tomorrow,” I add.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yes!” I laugh. “I don’t know what to expect. I’ve been baking around the clock, I just hope everything is how they remember. I’ve got a lot to live up to.”

“I’m sure they’ll have a great time,” Juliet reassures me. “And once they taste your cinnamon rolls, they’ll be too happy to complain about a thing.”

“I hope so,” I smile. Juliet and Emerson have been the main benefactors of my baking kick: taste-testing to help me get the recipes just right. “I don’t want to let Nana down.”

“No way. I bet she’d get such a kick out of all this.” Juliet turns by the bar, and takes the external stairs to the apartment above the main building. She knocks lightly, but there’s no reply.

“Carina?” she calls softly, opening the door and stepping inside. I follow her in, as a blonde woman emerges from the bedroom.

“Shh!” she whispers, hugging Juliet. “I just put him down.”

“This is my sister, Carina,” she introduces me. “This is Noelle, I was telling you about her.”

“The baker of all the cakes!” Carina lights up. “Oh my God, I’ve been loving all these deliveries. Every time Jules comes over, she’s got some new delicious treat.”

“Plus, I’m amazing company,” Juliet adds, laughing.

“That too.” Carina hugs me. “How are you? Sorry about the mess. I wish I could blame little Sawyer, but it’s all Garrett. My husband,” she adds with an affectionate eye-roll. “Somehow, he manages to keep the bar spotless, but can’t bring himself to put away a shirt.”

“Maybe because he hires someone to clean down there,” Juliet quips.

“Oh yeah, that.” Carina gestures us over to the living area. It’s a cute apartment, bright and breezy. She moves some toys off the couch to make room for us. “Jules says you’re starting a business?”

“Carrying one on, really. The B&B at Rose Cottage,” I explain. “I’ve been redecorating, and now I’d love to get the word out. Nana never did any advertising.”

“No problem!” Carina exclaims. “I have a ton of contacts at travel magazines from my old job. I can put together a press release, and send it out to the list. Do you have pictures?”

I nod, pulling out my laptop. “And a website too.”

“Perfect.” She smiles. “Leave it with me, magazines love the whole small-town charm thing,” she adds. “And with the grandmother angle, it’s perfect.”

“Thanks so much,” I tell her gratefully. “I’m learning as I go, and anything you can do will be a big help.”

A cry comes from the next room. Carina starts to rise, but Juliet leaps up. “I’ll go.” She exits into the bedroom, and reemerges a moment later with a baby in her arms.

“You don’t want to miss all the gossip, do you?” she coos, rocking the bundle of swaddling. “You’ve missed your auntie Jules too much.”

“You’re a natural.” Carina watches them fondly. She gives me a look, “I swear, sometimes she’s the only one who can get him to settle down.”

“Are you and Emerson planning any?” I ask, curious.

Juliet gives a coy little shrug.

“Come on,” Carina laughs. “You know you want one.”

“Maybe…” Juliet grins. “We haven’t really talked about it yet. We decided to wait until after the restaurant was up and running, and we’d had some time to ourselves.”

“Well, don’t wait too long. Sawyer needs a friend for playdates.” Carina leans over and kisses his head. “Thanks for taking him this afternoon.” She adds, already grabbing her purse. “I need some time alone.”

“Any big plans?” I ask, as we say goodbye and head out.

“Yes! I’m going to take a three-hour nap,” Carina says, smiling blissfuly. I laugh. “How about you?”

“More work back at the house,” I say. And avoiding Ash, I add silently. Whenever I think about my hazy memories of propositioning him, I cringe. “And thanks again for helping out.”

“Are you kidding? I love this stuff. I’ll make those calls and let you know,” Carina promises. “This is going to be fun!”

She heads off in a different direction with a wave. Then I feel my phone buzz in my pocket with a new message; I lift it out to find the thing I’ve been secretly dreading all week now.

A text from my mom.

Can you pick up the food on your way over? Order’s at China Kitchen.

I stop. I’ve been avoiding breaking the news, but now there’s no delaying it anymore—not with both my parents expecting me to dinner tonight, a few hundred miles away.

I brace myself, lift the phone to my ear, and dial.

“Hey Mom,” I say, when she answers.

“Did you get my message? I’m running behind. Just finished up at the hospital,” she says, sounding breathless and busy—her default setting.

“I can’t make it tonight,” I tell her. “I’m…not in New York anymore. I quit. I moved down to Beachwood Bay to reopen the bed and breakfast.”

It comes tumbling out in a rush. Better to rip off the band-aid than admit it all slowly, piece by piece.

There’s silence.

“Mom?” I ask at last, cringing.

“I’m here.” Her voice is cool. “And when exactly did you make this life-altering decision?”

“Last week.” I can sense her disapproval, coming at me in waves down the line, and I hate it. This is exactly why I put off calling for so long, to avoid just this moment. “It all just kind of…happened. You know I haven’t been happy at work,” I add hurriedly. “And then Harper told me should just leave if I didn’t want to be there… So I did. I left.”

“And drove five states away?” Her voice rises. “Honestly, Noelle, what were you thinking? You need to come back right now. I’m sure we can fix it with work, and even so, one bad job is no reason to throw your life away here!”

“What life?” I counter, trying to be strong. “Mom, you know I don’t have one. I work, and work, and come home, and then work some more. My only friends are other lawyers, and I haven’t had a real date in years.”

“Is this about a man?” her voice changes.

“No!” I protest quickly, banishing thoughts of Ash from my mind. He’s not the reason I came here, and after my humiliating display the other night, he’s definitely not the reason I’m staying. “It’s about everything,” I try to explain. “I need a change, I don’t want to keep going through the motions. It feels like I’m sleepwalking through my own life.”

“There are drugs for that,” Mom says crisply. “Therapies, too. Is this depression, do you think?”

“No, I’m not depressed!” I exclaim. “I’m feeling better already than I have in months. I’m doing this, Mom. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I knew you’d be like this.”

“Like what? I’m concerned for you, darling, I’m your mother. And now you tell me you’ve thrown everything away, and run off to the back of beyond…”

I fade her out as she continues, telling me exactly what a terrible mistake I’ve made, and how there’s no future for me in a place like this.

“Why do you think your father left for college and never looked back?” she finishes. “It’s a cute town for a vacation, but you’ll be bored out of your mind in a couple of weeks!”

“It’s my life, Mom,” I say firmly. “And I’m doing this. The first guests arrive tomorrow, and there’s lots to do. Give my love to Dad.”

“Oh, don’t think this is the end of it.” Mom sounds furious. “We’ll talk after I’ve told the news to your father. He’ll be heartbroken, you know that.”

“Bye, Mom.” I hang up, feeling an ache of guilt.

For years, all I’ve wanted to do is make my parents proud. Live up to their shining achievements and be the accomplished daughter they always wanted. Now, I’m failing them in spectacular fashion.

But I’m not failing myself, at least.

I turn back and start walking again, towards the cottage. It fills me with a curious sense of pride and belonging to reach the front of the house, look up, and know that it’s mine: from the crumbling chimney up top, to the freshly-painted picket fence out front. I’ve never felt this way about a house: my parents moved us around the city every five years or so growing up, as they switched jobs and climbed their career ladders. I got to know a dozen different doormen, and navigated fresh subway routes across town, but I haven’t felt such a strong attachment to simple bricks and mortar before now.

Home.