Two figures, one spry, the other a bit more stooped, emerged from the shadows on the porch as she pulled to a stop.
“Gram!” Caitlyn shouted, already struggling to free herself from the car seat.
“And Aunt Jessie!” Carrie boomed, trying to get the door on her side open. Abby released the child safety locks and Carrie sprang free, racing across the lawn to fling herself at her favorite aunt.
Jess stumbled back, then caught her niece up in a massive hug, even as Caitlyn reached up to her great-grandmother for a more demure embrace, as if she knew instinctively to take more care with the older woman.
Abby took in the scene with a smile. Why hadn’t she done this more often? Was she truly so busy? Or had she been making excuses because of her mixed feelings about home and the way she’d forced herself to walk away without looking back? Until now she hadn’t realized how much she missed being right here, with the sea breeze rustling through the trees, the sound of waves lapping against the shore and the promise of a whole pile of Maryland crabs and cold wine waiting on the porch, along with whatever Gram had baked that day.
Her grandmother caught her eye and gave her a knowing smile. “It’s good to be home, is it not?”
“It’s better than I expected,” Abby admitted. “How are you, Gram? You look good.” She certainly didn’t look her age, which was somewhere near eighty by Abby’s calculations, though her grandmother wouldn’t admit to it. Whenever any one of them had tried to pin her down, even for the sake of genealogical research, the date of her birth shifted to suit her.
“I’m better with the three of you here for a bit,” Gram said. “Shall we feed the girls first, then have our own meal when it’s quieter?”
“That sounds perfect,” Abby said.
“Why don’t I take them inside and show them their room, then? I’ve put them in Connor’s since he has the twin beds in there. I can’t get your brother to take away a single one of his sports trophies and ribbons, though. It looks as it did when he was still sleeping there himself.”
Abby grinned. “Cluttered and messy, then,” she said. “They’ll love it.”
After the three of them had gone inside, she turned to her sister and gave her a fierce hug. “Now then, are you ready to tell me why I’m here?”
Jess gave her a wry look. “Always eager to cut to the chase, aren’t you? Can’t you even take five minutes to relax?”
“Not if you expect me to solve this problem, whatever it is, in a few days.”
“I think it can wait a little longer. I don’t want to get into it until after Gram’s gone to bed. I don’t want her worrying.”
Abby frowned. “It’s that serious?”
“I told you life or death, in a manner of speaking,” Jess said impatiently. “Come on. I need a glass of wine—maybe two—before we get into all this.”
Judging from her sister’s mood, Abby had a feeling she might need a few glasses of wine herself.
Jess wasn’t entirely sure how she’d made such a mess of things. All she knew for certain was that she dreaded admitting any of it to her confident, successful big sister. Still, when her plans had gone south and she’d realized just how deep a hole she’d dug for herself, calling Abby—the family’s certified financial whiz—had seemed like the only sensible thing to do.
She didn’t want to lose the inn. Even as a little girl, when she’d first seen the sprawling structure less than a mile away from their own house, Jess had imagined herself owning it. Just over a year and a half ago, right before Christmas, in fact, she’d spotted the For Sale sign in front of the inn as she was driving home. Bored silly by her job at Ethel’s Emporium, her heart had immediately done a stutter step. For the first time since she’d come home after college, she could feel a sense of anticipation and excitement building deep inside. This was it, her chance to grab the brass ring, to give herself a sense of purpose, to build the kind of future her family would approve.
Initially, she’d told no one in her family of her plans. She wasn’t entirely sure why. Probably because she’d feared their ridicule or their lack of faith that she could possibly succeed. She was, after all, the baby and the wild child. She’d never stuck with anything for long. Unlike her sisters or her brothers, she’d never displayed a real passion for work, never found her niche. She’d been drifting, and everyone in the family had known it. Worse, they’d expected nothing more of her.
“Oh, you know Jess. She never sticks with anything for long.” How many times had she heard some family member say that, especially her father? When it came from Abby or her brothers, she took it in stride. When Mick said it, it cut Jess to the quick. She’d grown up believing she would never measure up to the high standards he set for all of his children. The inn was her chance to prove him—to prove all of them—wrong.
Fortunately Jess, like her siblings, had a modest trust fund that had come due when she’d turned twenty-one. It had been invested wisely, the amount growing, especially since Abby had taken over managing the account. It was enough, she’d hoped, for a down payment.
Impulsively, she’d made an appointment the next morning with the Realtor. Naively and because she was caught up in the dream, she hadn’t asked to see the books or any other proof that the inn could be operated in the black. She’d done a cursory inspection and found it to be in good shape. After all, one thing she knew about her father and Uncle Jeff, they designed and built things to last. She’d made a conservative bid, which had been accepted at once. The Pattersons were anxious to leave. All that remained was to get the financing in place.
That’s when she should have called Abby, she realized now. Or her father. Even her brothers could have offered sound advice, but, stubbornly independent to the end, she’d handled it all herself. To keep the payments within reason, she’d accepted an interest-only loan for the short term, then planned to refinance once the inn was open and operating at a profit.
Best-laid plans, she thought now, sipping her wine as she waited for Abby to come back from tucking the kids into bed. Nothing had gone as she’d anticipated. The Pattersons had never installed any kind of up-to-date reservation system. The heating and air-conditioning systems were barely functioning and needed to be replaced with something more energy-efficient. While the building itself was sound, the rooms were shabby, the curtains faded, the linens unacceptable. The exterior looked dilapidated, which had been easy enough to fix, but even a coat of paint cost money.
The down payment had depleted her funds, so she’d applied for a business loan, using the inn as collateral. She’d been approved easily.
Filled with excitement, Jess had finally revealed her purchase to the rest of the family. Predictably, Gram and her siblings had been delighted for her. Mick had asked a thousand and one perfectly reasonable questions for which she didn’t have adequate answers. That was when she’d gotten the first nagging sense that she was in over her head.
Then, a few months ago, while she was still trying to complete the necessary redecorating, she’d gotten a letter from the bank pointing out that she was behind on her payments for the mortgage and for the business loan. She’d scrambled to come up with the cash, embarrassed that in her zeal to spruce up the place, she’d overlooked the due dates for those payments. It had happened again a couple of months later. With her funds depleted, she’d missed two payments in a row after that.
That’s
