11       

Mom had arrived. Right on schedule too.

Vienna waved as the older-model red Mini Cooper edged onto the shoulder at the end of Starfish Pier Road with a toot of the horn.

Had her mother ever been on time in the past, other than for work?

Not that she could recall.

Vienna pushed off from the fender as she waited for her mother to set the brake and kill the engine, memories of her childhood flitting through her mind. The harried, late departures for school and church. The tardy arrival for doctor appointments and social events. The last-minute hurricane-like flurry of activity as her mother raced to get ready for work each morning.

Yet during this visit, Mom hadn’t been late for a single get-together. In fact, she’d arrived early at Frank’s.

This new punctuality, plus her restrained decorating and curbed opinionating, was requiring a seismic adjustment.

But one thing hadn’t changed.

Her mother’s eclectic taste in fashion.

As Mom emerged from the car, Vienna surveyed her pirate-style blouse, cinched with a belt at the waist while its full sleeves flapped in the breeze, as well as the handkerchief hem of the bohemian skirt billowing over her sport shoes.

Her lips quirked.

Typical mom.

And reminiscent of the eclectic muumuus and caftans and tunics she’d worn to school events while festooned with enough baubles to sink a ship. A stark contrast to the tailored slacks and sweaters favored by her classmates’ moms—and a never-ending source of embarrassment for an introverted, blend-into-the-background daughter.

“Am I late?” Mom hurried over.

“No. I got here early. I built in a few extra minutes in case of a fog slowdown, but the sky was clear.”

“Isn’t it glorious?” Lifting her face toward the expanse of blue, she swept a hand over the heavens. “This is an ideal day to see the tide pools. Let’s do this.” Without further delay, she scaled a small dune while Vienna fell in behind her, setting a brisk pace up the sand toward the far end of the beach. “You’re going to love this spot. It’s one of my favorite places to visit. I come every week.”

“By yourself?” Vienna eyed the long expanse of deserted coastline. Other than Beachview B&B in the opposite direction, there was no other development at the end of the road.

“Of course.”

“Is it safe?”

Her mother sent her a get-real look. “This is Hope Harbor, not Eugene or Denver.”

“I know, but . . .” She motioned ahead to the rough rocks that housed the tide pools. “I mean, those have to be slippery. What if you fell and got hurt?”

“I have my cell.” She patted her pocket.

“But what if you dropped it? What if . . . what if you couldn’t move and the tide came in?”

“I suppose that could happen.” Mom shrugged. “Trouble is, if you live your life what-iffing and worrying, you’re going to spend half of it on the sidelines.”

Hard to argue with that.

“Couldn’t you bring someone with you, though?”

“Sweet girl, if I waited around until other people showed up to do anything, I’d rarely leave my apartment. And much as I like my little nest, I have places to go and marvels to see. Like this.” She extended a hand toward the dark rocks up ahead. “I’ve lived alone for a very long time—before you came along, and after you left for college. I’m used to doing things on my own.”

That was true. Mom had lived solo for a hearty chunk of her life. By choice.

But had she ever second-guessed her decision to go it alone?

“I know you like to be self-reliant.” Vienna lengthened her stride to keep up with her mother’s energetic pace, giving voice to a question she’d never asked. “But don’t you ever get lonely?”

Her mother’s smile faltered for a nanosecond. Stabilized. “Every lifestyle comes with pros and cons. I wanted independence, and I wanted to live life my way. That can cause friction in relationships, as ours demonstrates. It can also cause conflict in a marriage. Staying single was less disruptive, and it suited me. Now let me introduce you to this wondrous world.” She stepped up onto a large, craggy rock. “Follow me.”

Vienna did as instructed for their tour of the tide pools, but following in Mom’s footsteps into a solo life had never been her intention.

Yet thanks to her all-consuming job, the family she’d always hoped to have still tantalized on the distant horizon. Had it not been for her unexpected career detour, it could have languished at the margins of her ten-year plan until it evaporated like a Hope Harbor mist.

Perhaps a realignment of professional and personal priorities was in order as she charted her new course.

Letting such weighty matters distract her while she climbed over dangerous rocks, however, could be disastrous.

So for the next hour, Vienna focused on her footing as she and Mom peered into pools at vivid purple sea urchins, fragile and delicate-hued anemones that closed in on themselves at the first hint of danger, and huge, vibrant orange, purple, and burgundy starfish.

It was amazing.

Even more amazing?

She was enjoying this outing, just as she’d enjoyed everything she and Mom had done together on this trip. Kind of like during their Hope Harbor mini vacations in the old days. Here, there had been fewer clashes. Probably, in hindsight, because the opinion of strangers hadn’t mattered as much. If Mom had embarrassed her here, no one would have been able to use it against her.

Frowning, Vienna bent low for a clearer view of a hermit crab, which scuttled out of reach when she got too close.

Why had she cared so much what other people thought about Mom or her, anyway? Life would have been far less stressful if she’d let criticism and snide comments and hurtful teasing bounce off her instead of closing into a protective tuck, like the anemones did.

But that wasn’t easy to do, especially for a hypersensitive kid. And youthful peers could be hateful.

“Vienna! Come see this.” Mom motioned her over, her attention on the tide pool at her feet.

She crossed to the next rock and leaned over beside Mom.

“There.” Mom pointed to a shimmery, bluish-white creature with orange fringe.

“What is that?”

“An opalescent nudibranchs. A variety of sea slug. They come in all different shapes and colors. I saw one a few weeks ago that was fairy-like. It had dozens of wing-like projections, all rimmed in white. Two weeks ago, I spied the bright yellow sea lemon version. I don’t always spot one. This is your lucky day.”

Vienna stared at her mother, who’d been a veritable encyclopedia as they’d explored the craggy rocks. “How do you know all this stuff?”

“I enjoy learning about subjects that interest me.” Her lips curved up, and she reached over to squeeze her hand. “But I must admit, it’s a pleasure to have someone to share this with.”

A rare occurrence, based on her earlier comments.

Not that outgoing Bev Price would ever lack for friends in a town like Hope Harbor, where everyone seemed welcome.

Still, it wasn’t like having family close by.

Another consideration to ponder as she launched her job search. If she found a new position somewhere that was a quick flight away, she could visit more often.

“I think we’d better wrap up.” Her mother shaded her eyes against the dipping sun and motioned toward the westernmost edge of the tide pools, where the sea was already encroaching. “Besides, I’m getting hungry. I put a pot roast in the slow cooker this morning. I thought we’d eat in tonight.”

Vienna’s mouth began to water. “I love your pot roast.”

“I know. I should have made it more often while you were growing up. But I believed it was important to expose you to all kinds of food.”

“I remember.” The tofu stew, eggplant lasagna, chickpea pancakes, and a host of ethnic dishes that had rotated through their kitchen were etched in her memory. Even eating had been an adventure in their household.

Her mother offered her a rueful smile. “Instead of making you a more daring eater, though, I drove you to French fries and chicken nuggets.”

Which had only added to her childhood woes.

But that was history now.

“You’ll be happy to know I’ve broadened my culinary horizons. I even eat sushi. But pot roast sounds wonderful tonight.”

“Then let’s head back before we’re washed away in the tide.”

As they hiked back down the beach, Mom chatting away, Vienna kept tabs on the rising tide that was making serious inroads on the sand. Maybe they ought to pick up their pace and—

“I do believe that’s Kay’s brother.”

As her mom spoke, Vienna yanked her gaze back to the beach ahead.

In the distance, a lone figure sat on a piece of driftwood, angled slightly away from them, his focus on the horizon. Though he was a football field away, and it was impossible to see any detail in his features, his bearing was familiar.

“I think you’re right.”

“He must have gone for a walk. I expect he’s lonely at the B&B all by himself.”

“Kay lived there alone too.”

“And I suspect she was also lonely. Strange how they both lost their spouses within twelve months of each other. Kay mentioned once that her husband was quite a bit older than she was, so I suppose age could have been a factor in his heart attack. But I wonder what could have happened to Matt’s wife. I assume she was quite young.”

“Whatever it was, it had to be tragic.” And it would account for the sorrow and desolation visible deep in his eyes, if one looked close enough.

Without ever glancing their direction, he pushed himself to his feet and began trudging back down the beach, his hunched shoulders telegraphing discouragement and worry and perhaps lingering grief over whatever heartbreaking circumstances had robbed him of the woman he loved.

“And now he has to deal with his sister’s B&B.” Mom shook her head. “At least he has you to get him started on the road to improvement.”

The perfect opening to share the decision she’d reached a couple of hours ago.

“Actually, I’m going to take your advice and offer my services for the duration of the redo. Matt texted me that Kay wants to go high-end, and I’m certain I can turn the place around if they have the budget to do what needs to be done.”

“You mean you’re going to stay in town for a while?” Her mother stopped and swung toward her, delight sparking in her eyes.

“Yes. If they want me to help.”

“That’s wonderful! But . . .” Mom’s brow puckered. “Have you talked about your fee yet with Matt? I have a feeling Kay isn’t rolling in cash.”

“I got the same impression. I’m only going to charge if he insists, and nothing more than a nominal amount. Having a successful turnaround property on my resume is more than sufficient payment.”

“You could always suggest the barter arrangement if he’s uncomfortable with free.” Mom continued down the beach, skirting a broken sand dollar.

“I’m debating that.” Or at least the notion of proposing the idea.

“Even when the Gull has an opening, you can’t live in a hotel long term. It would be too expensive. If you don’t want to pursue the barter idea, stay with me.”

“I can’t take your bedroom, Mom. And I don’t know if my back would appreciate being subjected to the couch for an extended stay. I’m not eliminating that option, but it’s not ideal.”

Her mother huffed out a breath. “I should have rented a two-bedroom unit.”

“Just so I could stay there on occasion? Don’t be silly. I’ll work this out.”

“If you’re reluctant to bring up the barter idea, do you want me to broach it? I could stop in at the B&B with a plate of sweet potato brownies. They’re gluten free, vegan, and sugar free. Very healthy—unlike the cookies I bake for the shop, though everyone in Hope Harbor loves them.”

Somehow, Vienna had a feeling Matt would prefer the cookies.

But having her mother run interference for her wasn’t on the menu, anyway.

“Let me see how it goes at our next meeting. I plan to call him tomorrow and schedule a time to get together. After two and a half days of research, I have enough information to lay out preliminary ideas and costs.”

“I’ll be happy to step in if you want me to. I’m the one who brought up the barter concept in the first place.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

As they arrived at the spot where they’d crossed the dune, Vienna paused to give Matt one more perusal.

He was far up the beach now, near where the B&B was snuggled among the coniferous trees.

It would be interesting to see if he brought up the idea about her staying on-site after she offered her services for free.

If he didn’t, she might yet end up on Mom’s couch. While the Gull’s rates were reasonable, and she could no doubt negotiate a weekly price, it would still be expensive for an extended stay. She’d have to find an alternative. But she wasn’t going to push herself on Matt.

All she could do was hope he had a healthy guilt complex that would nudge him to offer her a room.

Especially if she dropped a few judicious hints.

“That should hold us for another couple of days.” Andrew finished dumping the bag of ice from Lou’s Bait and Tackle shop on top of the perishables in their cooler.

Paige’s stomach rumbled as he secured the lid, and she sent him a sheepish look. “Sorry. The scent of cinnamon is getting to me.” One hand pressed to her midsection, she motioned down Dockside Drive with the other. “It must be coming from the bakery on the next block. I passed it the day I brought the ad into town.”

“You want to check it out?” Andrew closed the tailgate.

“No. Cinnamon rolls are pricey at bakeries.” At the flash of remorse in his eyes, she called up a smile. No need to make him feel any worse than he already did about the Spartan life they were leading. “Besides, they’re loaded with calories and carbs.”

He gave her a quick sweep, forehead wrinkling. “Like you have to worry about either. You need to eat more, Paige.”

Yes, she did. But the stress of waiting to hear back from Matt Quinn had killed her appetite. Even the enticing aroma of cinnamon couldn’t tempt her while their future hung in the balance.

“So do you. You’ve lost weight over the past few months. Too much.” That was no exaggeration. His jeans hung slack on his lean hips, and she’d felt every rib as he’d pressed her close on Sunday.

“I’ll put it back on once everything gets—” He froze. Pulled out his cell. Lost a few shades of color as he skimmed the screen. “This is it.”

Heart lurching, Vienna groped for the edge of the truck and held on tight. As Andrew pressed talk and put the phone to his ear, she grasped his hand and twined her fingers with his.

“Good morning, Mr. Quinn . . . No, not at all. We’re early risers . . . I understand. I’m sure returning a phone call was low on their priority list.” He listened for another few moments, then released a shaky breath and nodded.

Paige closed her eyes.

Thank you, God.

“I’m glad to hear that.” A subtle tremor ran through his voice. “As a matter of fact, knowing you wanted to get the job underway ASAP, I went ahead and prepared a bid. I’d be happy to drop it off for you. I’m in town and could swing by in less than fifteen minutes . . . No trouble at all. See you soon. And thank you.” He ended the call, slid the phone back in his pocket, and squeezed her fingers. “We’re in. As far as the bid, anyway.”

“I told you the references would come through for you.” She continued to hold tight to his hand as a surge of buoyancy thrummed through her. “And the bid is bare bones. He won’t find anyone who will do the work for a lower price.”

“But he may be able to find someone who can do it faster, despite the days we shaved off.”

She stepped in front of him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Few people were about at this early hour, but she lowered her volume nonetheless. “He’s going to hire you, Andrew. I know it.”

One side of his mouth flexed. “Women’s intuition?”

“Logic. No one will beat your price, and if necessary, we’ll find a way to trim a few more days off the schedule.”

“We’re already stretching ourselves to the limit.”

She inched closer, until his warm breath feathered her face. “We can do this. Together.” She wasn’t letting him get cold feet now. Not after all the hours they’d labored over this bid. Not when this could be their opportunity for a fresh start.

“If he accepts the bid.”

“He will. You want me to wait in town until you’re finished meeting with him? You could come back and pick me up after you’re done.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe you should come along, since the timeframe on the work is contingent on his willingness to let you help me. He may want to meet you once he realizes you’re part of the deal.”

“Now?” She eased back and scanned her worn jeans and faded sweatshirt in dismay. “I’m not dressed for a job interview.”

“You are for a construction job.” He took her hand. “Come with me, Paige.” His voice rasped, and he gave her a shaky smile. “Strength in numbers and all that.”

She hesitated—but only for a second. If her presence gave him moral support and helped them get this job, she’d deal with her own case of nerves.

Because if this fell through, they’d be back where they were four days ago.

Nowhere. With no light at the end of the tunnel.

“Okay.” She propped up the corners of her mouth, praying her show of enthusiasm and optimism would bolster his confidence. “Let’s give this our best shot.” After squeezing his hand, she circled around to climb back into the truck.

But as Andrew pointed it north, the knot in her stomach coiled tighter.

For despite the assurances she’d offered him, until this job was in the bag, she wasn’t going to count on dropping anchor in Hope Harbor.