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Kate had given them each a neatly printed list of to-dos. Everything from a rotation of linen-laundering to toilet-scrubbing to baseboard-wiping was accounted for and assigned. Even poor little Sarah earned a position as window-washer.
Clara was excited to spend time with her niece. Maybe she’d even work up the courage to open the conversation she hadn’t yet had with her extended family members, not even Megan’s daughter.
But first, before anyone began on her assignment, Kate asked for help in making some “big-picture decisions,” as she called them.
Clara smiled at her, admiring the woman’s togetherness and dedication. Rehabbing and opening the house as a bed-and-breakfast was the perfect opportunity for Kate, Clara knew.
A dry erase board appeared out of nowhere, and Kate lifted a chubby Expo marker and added the words The Heirloom Inn to the top then drew a perfectly straight line beneath.
“All right,” she began, her hands steepled like she was running a business meeting. Clara supposed she was. “Upstairs, there are six rooms. Three of those rooms have closets. Three do not.”
They all knew as much; the older three had fought to the death over who would get the closet spaces. In the end, Nora had decided that Kate, Amelia, and Megan would each get a room without a closet. It was the fairest approach. This meant that when Clara was born and a room was dedicated to her, it was a closet room. She secretly suspected her older sisters had long begrudged her that. Now, it was a silly thing. Then again, regarding the whole establishment of a bed-and-breakfast, a closet might be more significant after all: it could mean the difference in price points for guest rooms. Clara frowned and leaned in.
As if reading her mind, Megan interjected. “Charge more for bedrooms with closets.”
“What about Mom and Dad’s old room?” Amelia asked, glancing around. “It’s the biggest. Will one of us get it, or...?”
Kate pinned Amelia with a look. “Good question. I suppose that depends on your long-term plans and mine,” she replied.
Clara felt her stomach clench in anxiety. This was the conversation they’d been having since Nora passed. Who would get what? Who was getting too much? Too little? It was the precise reason Clara was happy to begin moving into the cottage. A small, separate space, private and all her own. And, detached from the house or the rental units. Clara felt lucky to get the cottage, and that was exactly why she was waiting for the other shoe to drop and one of her sisters to protest about fairness.
Amelia cleared her throat. “Listen, Kate,” she began, looking around at the others guiltily. “I love being here. And I’ll stay for a while. But sharing this place with tourists? Not my bag. I’m not in it for the long run. I may not even stay in Birch Harbor past the summer, honestly.” She shrugged.
Kate lowered her gaze to Amelia. “I understand. And I will be here for the long run.” She shot Clara a small smile.
Curious, Clara pressed her on it. “You’re going to stay here long term?” She indicated the house by twirling her index finger in a little circle.
A broad grin took over the woman’s face. “I know that we have to keep this place going. And I’m the oldest. I’m the one who’s most interested. So yes, I plan to stay for a while.”
With that settled, they quickly began assigning placements and establishing parameters.
“I’ll move into Mom and Dad’s room. It has the en suite bath and sits at the far side of the hall. The other five rooms will be guest rooms. But, what about all of you?” Kate paused, looking at her sisters.
“You mean where will we stay when we come to town?” Megan asked.
Kate nodded.
Clara felt her cheeks flush. She didn’t want to share the cottage. But if it were just for Megan and Sarah, she could do it. “You’ll stay with me,” she answered for Kate. “Whenever you want, you can stay in the cottage with me, once I move in. Until then, we will bunk together in my unit at The Bungalows.”
Sarah spoke up, excitement in her voice. “Yes! That’s perfect,” she cheered, grinning at Clara affectionately. It felt good to have the girl’s admiration. Really good.
“Wonderful. That’s wonderful!” Kate pushed ahead. “And in the long run, we can have the attic converted. Or even the basement! If we work hard, we could have beds in both before autumn.” She added notes to the white board—second-floor guest rooms: five.
Clara chimed in. “What about bathrooms? There are just two others than the en suite upstairs. Can five guest rooms work with just two bathrooms?”
“We have one down here, too,” Amelia added helpfully.
Kate frowned deeply.
Clara licked her lips. “Maybe that’s okay, you know? Not all bed-and-breakfasts have individual bathrooms. Sometimes you have to share with your floor or whatever. Like a college dorm.”
“You don’t have much competition in town,” Megan said. “But eventually you want to offer the best experience, right? You want to beat out Birch Harbor Motel, right?”
“Right,” Kate answered.
Clara studied Megan, her features bare of makeup, her hair tossed up in a messy bun. For over-forty, she looked good for her age. It was no wonder Sarah was so beautiful. She closely resembled her mom. Dark hair and bright green eyes against olive skin. Clara knew they looked nothing like Nora. Did they look like Nora’s husband? Wendell Acton? She frowned for a moment, then a thought occurred to her.
“I’ve got it.” Clara’s eyes lit up, and she snapped her fingers. “For now, just rent out two bedrooms upstairs. The ones by each hall bath. Build up some savings, then we can convert the basement and add two rooms down there with two new baths. That saves the first-floor bath as a main level powder room, and it gives you time to work your way up to a full-service bed-and-breakfast.”
Kate nodded excitedly.
“Full-service? You make it sound like a brothel,” Amelia joked. Clara didn’t laugh. Amelia did, though. Sarah rolled her eyes.
“Anyway,” Kate cut through Amelia’s laughter. “I love that idea, Clara. We can ease in. It’s perfect.”
The window behind them illuminated in a bright boom of lightning. A crack of thunder erupted through their conversation. Then, like a scene from a movie, rain spilled from the sky, pattering on the back porch loudly as the sky lit up in a fresh flash of lightning. A Saturday morning storm in late May. Clara’s favorite weather, even if it mismatched the tone of their little party. A cool breeze splashed through the screen door behind the kitchen island, tickling Clara’s neck and reminding her how warm the house was.
“First,” Clara remarked. “You’d better look into having the air conditioning unit serviced.” She gave Kate a helpless look, but Kate already knew this and nodded back, twisting her mouth into a thoughtful pout.
“And paint,” Megan added. “The exterior is peeling off in swaths,” she said.
Again, Kate nodded and then narrowed her eyes on an absent focal point in the distance. “We need to hire someone,” she said, sighing deeply. “Someone who can help with all of this. Or maybe several someones. I’m not sure we can manage alone.”
“I know someone,” Clara answered, a timid smile dancing on her lips.
Kate frowned and stared at her. “Okay. Well, who?”
Clara’s smile turned to a grimace as she answered. “Your ex-boyfriend.”