Mission accomplished.
Plunger in hand, Matt leaned down and flushed the toilet again.
The water swirled, drained, refilled.
Whew.
At least one crisis had been resolved.
Now he just had to round up a rehab outfit that could start on the B&B sooner than the firm Kay had contacted.
His number one priority come Monday morning.
For today, though, it was on to a hot shower and a trip to town.
Less than forty-five minutes later, he was in line and inching toward the taco stand on the wharf that Kay had raved about.
When it was his turn, he stepped up to the window and scanned the interior of the white trailer for a menu.
“I only make one kind of taco a day.” Eyes twinkling, the taco chef smiled at him. “Today I’m featuring rockfish. That work for you?”
“Sure.”
“New in town or passing through?” He selected an avocado from a bowl, examined it from all angles, and began chopping it.
“Both. But my pass-through is on the long side. I’ll be here for about a month.”
“You’re a rarity. Most visitors spend a day or two in our fair town, tops. Unless you have family here?”
“My sister owns Beachview B&B.”
“Ah. That would explain what I heard earlier.”
Matt squinted at him. “What did you hear?”
“That there was a man on the premises. I’m Charley Lopez, by the way. A pleasure to meet you.”
Matt introduced himself and returned the sentiment as he did the math.
Since he’d only run into one person during his stay, Charley’s source had to be the woman he’d scared off this morning.
“News must travel fast around here.”
“That it does.” He put three corn tortillas on the grill and tossed a handful of red onions on the griddle. “I also heard Kay will be out of town for an extended period.”
Further evidence the man’s intel came from the visitor he’d spooked.
“Yes. She went back to Boise to help a friend who’s having major surgery.”
“Kudos to her. The world could use more compassion and kindness. It’s generous of you to watch over the place while she’s gone.”
“There are benefits for me too. I was due for some R&R.” Which was dwindling with every passing hour.
“Leisure is excellent for the soul.” The taco chef flipped the fish. “I was sorry to hear Kay had stopped taking reservations, but I understand her rationale. First impressions are critical in any business, and the inn could use a bit of TLC.”
“More than a bit.”
“Are you planning to tackle the repairs?”
Matt snorted. “No way. I managed to unclog a stopped-up toilet this morning, but that stretched my handyman skills to the limit. A dog or a cat, I can fix. Buildings are beyond me.”
“Yes.”
The man gave an approving nod as he stirred the onions. “Caring for God’s creatures is a worthy occupation. Right, Floyd?”
Matt angled away from the window. No one was in sight, nor was anyone waiting in line behind him.
A cackle sounded at his feet, and he lowered his gaze.
Two yards away, two seagulls sat side by side on the pavement, their attention fixed on him.
He turned back to Charley, who grinned.
“Meet Floyd and Gladys. I expect you’ll see them around while you’re in town. They seem to have taken a fancy to you.”
He gave the birds an amused once-over. “You name the seagulls?”
“These two are special.”
This guy was a character.
Charley withdrew a bottle of water from a cooler. “I can toss this in the bag, but if you’re a coffee lover, I recommend a visit to The Perfect Blend. One of their Americanos would be an excellent accompaniment to your tacos, and the atmosphere can’t be beat. It’s laid-back, relaxing, and contemplative.”
Exactly the kind of environment he craved after his stressful morning.
“Sold.”
“It’s one street up, on the corner of Main and Harbor. You can’t miss it.” He set the water aside, then wrapped the three tacos in white paper and slid them into a brown bag. As Matt reached for his wallet, Charley shook his head. “No charge for the first visit.”
The man was offering him free tacos?
“Do you do that for everyone?”
“Not the day trippers. But you’ll be here for a while, and I want to encourage you to come back.”
“Count on it.”
“See? My generosity is good for business.” Mouth quirking, he adjusted the brim of his Ducks cap. “Enjoy the tacos and The Perfect Blend. I think you’ll like the ambiance there.”
“I’ll do that.” He hefted the bag. Hesitated.
Charley appeared to be connected in town. Might he have any suggestions about contractors?
“Change your mind about the water?” Charley reached for the bottle again.
“No. I was just wondering if you happen to know any handymen or carpenters in the area. The one Kay asked to bid isn’t available for weeks.”
“That would be BJ, I assume.”
Matt tried to call up the name on the bid. “I think the paperwork said Stevens Design & Construction.”
“That’s BJ. She’s the only game in town. First-rate operation, which is why she’s booked solid.”
That nixed the idea of finding another option in Hope Harbor.
He stifled a sigh.
“I guess I’ll have to expand my search to Bandon, or even Coos Bay.”
“You never know. Someone closer to home may turn up.”
“I can hope, anyway.” But he wasn’t going to count on it. If the Stevens operation was Hope Harbor’s main construction offering, it wasn’t likely he’d stumble across any other viable options in such a small town. “Thanks again for the tacos.” Crimping the bag in his fingers, he set off in search of The Perfect Blend.
As Charley had predicted, it was easy to spot. And the ambiance was as calming as the taco maker had promised. The clean, simple design featured close-up, poster-sized nature photos on the walls, with tables tucked between them and around a free-standing fireplace in the center.
Just what he needed.
Five minutes later, an Americano in hand and seated at a table by the picture window that offered a view of the street, he bit into his first taco.
Flavor exploded on his tongue.
Wow.
The combination of tender fish, avocado, red onion, and the other ingredients Charley had tossed in along with his special sauce and seasonings was magic.
Kay hadn’t exaggerated.
Taking his time to savor every morsel, Matt ate all three tacos, washing them down with the best Americano he’d ever had.
Hope Harbor might be a mere speck on the map and an unknown in the culinary world, but its tacos and coffee were second to none.
Another selling point to generate traffic for the B&B if Kay decided to keep the place.
Whether she did or not, though, it was up to him to find someone willing and able to start repairs next week. And lingering over his coffee wasn’t going to help him accomplish that task.
Matt drained the dregs, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and mentally bullet-pointed a plan as he stood.
Google handymen and construction types. Skim through the ads in the recent copy of the Hope Harbor Herald Kay had left in the kitchen. Ask a few more people in town who seemed approachable if they had any recommendations. It was possible there was someone Charley hadn’t thought of.
Armed with that strategy, he disposed of his trash and wandered toward the door, glancing at the amiable barista behind the counter who’d prepared his coffee.
Might he have any suggestions to offer?
No harm in asking.
He veered toward him. “Your Americano was exceptional.”
“Thanks.” The guy wiped his hands on a towel and flung it over his shoulder. “We aim to please. Passing through?”
“I’ll be here for a month. My sister owns the B&B off Starfish Pier Road.”
“Kay. Nice woman.”
No surprise his sister was known in town. Unlike her brother, who often found it easier these days to communicate with animals than humans, she was a people person through and through.
“Yes, she is.” He held out his hand and introduced himself.
“Zach Garrett. I own this place.” The man returned his firm shake.
“You wouldn’t by any chance have a recommendation for a carpenter or handyman in town, would you?”
“Have you talked to BJ? She’s top-notch.”
“So I’ve heard. My sister got a bid from her, but she’s not available for at least a month.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. I don’t know anyone else offhand. Have you checked the community bulletin board at Bev’s Book Nook?”
“No.”
“You may want to give that a try. She put it up when she opened the shop about six months ago, and it’s become a huge draw. Everyone in town stops in at least once a week to see the new postings—and buy a book or a greeting card or sample a cookie from her jar. Great marketing idea. I wish I’d thought of it first.” He offered an affable grin.
“I’ll swing by there.”
“It’s straight down Main toward the river, second shop past the intersection. Good luck.”
“Thanks. I’ll take all of that I can get.”
“Well, you know what they say.” The man motioned out the window, toward the portable A-frame signboard on the sidewalk in front. “A thought for the day, courtesy of The Perfect Blend.”
Matt peered at the saying that had been handwritten on the board.
If your ship doesn’t come in, swim out to it.
In other words, don’t wait for luck to come to you. Make your own.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Though its application to his present situation was dubious. If everyone he found was too busy to help with the B&B, it wouldn’t matter how hard he swam—or persisted. The answer would still be no.
And every day the B&B was closed, Kay was losing money. All because he’d been too preoccupied to ask any pertinent questions or offer assistance when she’d told him her plans.
Quashing a surge of guilt, he struck off down the sidewalk. Rather than fixate on things he couldn’t correct, better to focus on the problem at hand.
Once he crossed Harbor Street, Bev’s Book Nook came into view.
At the door to the shop, he paused to read the sign in the window.
Start a New Chapter!
Was everyone in Hope Harbor into pithy pieces of advice? Even Charley had offered a few philosophical thoughts.
Shaking his head, he pushed through the door.
A woman who appeared to be in her mid- to late-fifties looked up from a worktable off to the side as he entered and gave him a genial smile. “Welcome to Bev’s Book Nook. I’m the shop’s namesake. Can I help you, or would you like to browse?”
“I was told there’s a community bulletin board here.”
“Yes, there is. You’re the second person today who’s come in search of it. Most of the locals make a beeline that direction when they enter the door, so I assume you’re a visitor?”
This woman was as chatty as Charley.
“Yes. My sister owns Beachview B&B.”
“Ah. Kay!” Her face lit up and she rose.
As she crossed to him, he tried not to stare at the long purple swatch in her hair or the psychedelic tunic top or the wide-legged silky pants that seemed larger-than-life on her tall, big-boned frame.
“It’s lovely to meet you.” She extended her hand and gave his a hearty shake. “I bet Kay is delighted you came to visit. I haven’t seen her out and about much lately, and it’s not healthy to spend too much time alone. It will be wonderful for her to have company.”
“Actually, she won’t have. Not here, anyway. She’s back in Boise, helping a friend through a health crisis.”
“That’s very kind of her.” Bev tipped her head. “So you’re in charge of the B&B?”
“There isn’t much to be in charge of. It’s closed for the indefinite future.”
“No guests at all?”
“No. And none for the foreseeable future.”
“Shoot. Vienna will be disappointed to hear that.”
He arched his eyebrows. “Vienna?”
“My daughter. She’s also in town for a visit. Her room at the Gull Motel got flooded, and she was hoping to convince Kay to find her a spot at the B&B.”
Matt frowned.
Was it possible this Vienna could be the woman who’d come to his door earlier? The same one Charley had gotten all his intel from, who’d exuded class and understated elegance?
“Someone did stop by this morning. A woman in her thirties, long dark hair parted in the middle, blue eyes, driving a Focus?”
“Sounds like her. So you two have met.”
That was stretching it.
“Not exactly. I was in the middle of a plumbing disaster, and I think I scared her away. We only exchanged a few words.”
“She didn’t ask about booking a room?”
“No.”
“Strange.” Bev’s forehead wrinkled. “I can’t imagine why else she would have stopped by.”
He shifted his weight. “Maybe she changed her mind after I told her Kay would be gone a month and I was alone on the premises.” No need to mention the stench or his unkempt appearance.
“That could be. Vienna’s the cautious type, unlike her mother.” She winked at him, then grew more serious. “But she was willing to live on a construction site, if the rumors in town are true that a rehab is in the works. Unless all the rooms are torn up, of course.”
“None of them are torn up. But they should be. That’s why the B&B is closed.”
“What a shame.” Bev tut-tutted. “I hope your sister isn’t overwhelmed or discouraged.”
Yes, she was.
They both were.
Until Kay decided what she wanted to do with the place, though, dwelling on negatives would be counterproductive.
“At the moment, we’re more frustrated by the long wait to get any work done. I’m hoping a local carpenter or handyman may have posted an ad on your bulletin board.”
“You know . . . there was a woman in here a couple of hours ago who tacked up an ad for her husband. I didn’t recognize her, and she didn’t stay to chat, but I read the ad afterward. It could be the answer to your prayer.”
She led him over to the board and pointed out the small sheet of paper that had been neatly hand lettered.
Skilled carpenter seeks work, large jobs or small. Available immediately. Call for a bid.
A name and phone number were included.
Matt’s spirits took an uptick.
This was like manna from heaven.
He pulled out his cell and snapped a photo of the ad. “This could have potential. Are you certain the name doesn’t ring a bell?”
“Yes, but I’m new here too, like Kay. It’s possible there are people in town I haven’t met.”
Not according to Zach at the coffee shop.
This carpenter must either be new to Hope Harbor or an itinerant workman.
Hiring someone without a local track record might be dicey, but desperation could compel a man to take risks. However, there was zero risk in talking to the man.
“I may give him a call.” Matt slipped the phone back in his pocket.
“Couldn’t hurt. I got the feeling from his wife that they were down on their luck.” She pursed her lips as she regarded him. “You know, if there are any problems at the B&B beyond cosmetic, Vienna may be able to offer you a few pieces of advice. She worked at a boutique hotel chain for years.”
Boutique as in high-end, impeccable, and plush?
No wonder she’d turned tail and run after getting a load of the Beachview B&B and the temporary manager. In light of that first impression, she probably wouldn’t set foot inside even for the offer of a free stay.
But it could be helpful to pick her brain about the B&B. Heck, it was possible Kay would be willing to pay her a consulting fee, assuming his sister decided to move forward with her plan to operate the place.
He folded his arms. “How long will she be here?”
“Unknown. She’s between jobs. Would you like me to ask her to give you a call?”
In light of her hasty retreat, it was doubtful she’d want anything to do with the B&B. But maybe this was the ship he was supposed to swim out to.
“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate it.”
“Happy to help. What’s your number?” Bev whipped out her cell and tapped it in as he recited it. “I’m having dinner with her tonight. I’ll pass this on. Who knows? She may be willing to barter with you. Advice for a room.”
“If she ends up being here for an extended period, wouldn’t she rather stay with you?”
“No. I only have a one-bedroom apartment, and she refuses to impose. As if that were possible. But she’s also concerned we might clash. Not that we don’t love each other, you understand. It’s just that our personalities are as different as Oscar and Felix from that old TV show, The Odd Couple, despite the genes we share. Go figure.” She chuckled. “That’s why a barter arrangement might work.”
The bookstore owner’s candor was refreshing, even if her daughter might not appreciate the comparison Bev had just offered.
“I doubt she’d be interested in that, given the condition of the place. But thanks for offering to ask her to get in touch.”
“My pleasure.”
The tinkle of wind chimes signaled a new arrival, and Matt pulled out his keys. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Hang on a sec.” Bev hurried over to the checkout counter, lifted the lid on a clear glass jar, and extracted a cookie with a square of bakery tissue. “Gooey butter. I made this batch last night.” She held it out as she rejoined him. “Good luck with the carpenter. I hope he works out for you.”
“Thanks.”
She moved on to the customer, who was perusing a table with a selection of books.
He let himself out and wandered back toward his car on the wharf, taking a bite of the rich, tender cookie as he strolled.
Bev had been the second person today to wish him luck, and he’d take every crumb of it that fate was willing to hand out.
Because he either had to get the B&B in shape to sell or leave it in excellent condition so Kay could begin attracting customers again and start to refill her dwindling coffers.
No matter how pristine the place was, though, getting past the bad reviews would be a challenge.
He took another bite of the melt-in-the-mouth cookie.
It was possible Bev’s daughter could offer a few suggestions on that score, if he could convince her that he wasn’t a spin-off Hitchcock character from Psycho. Assuming she even called him.
But first he’d get in touch with Andrew Thompson and hope the carpenter whose wife had posted an ad at the bookshop really was the answer to a prayer. Otherwise, he’d be back to square one.
So until he had a contractor lined up, he’d forget about Bev’s daughter.
Why waste brainpower trying to figure out how to correct the bad impression he’d made on her if the B&B continued to make a bad impression on everyone who ventured down the narrow road that led to his sister’s impulsive folly?