Rita and Lucy throw a going-off-to-college bash for Emma and Chris on a Sunday afternoon in late August. They invite half the staff as well as family and other friends, including Jazz. Jack and I offer to pick up Ollie on the way. I’m worried about her. She hasn’t been herself since the incident with her brother.
Jazz begs to ride shotgun, and Jack gives in, as he often does on short drive. When we stop for Ollie, she climbs into the back seat with me. She looks gorgeous in a white linen tunic and white leggings with her dark hair piled messily on top of her head. There’s a sadness in her aquamarine eyes, and I worry she’s been crying.
When Jazz and Jack begin singing loudly and off key to country music in the front seat, I place a hand on Ollie’s arm. “Are you okay?”
She sucks in an unsteady breath. “I will be. Alexander’s trial is set for mid-September. He’ll remain in jail until that time.”
“That’s excellent news. You must be relieved.”
“I don’t know what I am, honestly. My emotions are conflicted.” A sad smile tugs at her lips. “Jazz shared the name of her therapist.”
“That kid is eight going on twenty,” I say with a little laugh. “Have you seen Dr. Grant yet?”
Ollie nods. “A couple of times. My first sessions have been productive.”
“I totally understand if you need to take some time off.”
Ollie appears alarmed. “Not at all. Work is the one constant in my life, my motivation to get up in the mornings. I love my job, Stella. The last thing I need is time off.”
“Good. Because I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I give her arm a squeeze. “My door is always open if you ever need to talk. And you’re welcome to stay with us anytime, if you’re feeling down and don’t want to be alone. I have plenty of spare bedrooms.”
“Thanks, Stella. I appreciate your concern,” Ollie says, her voice tight and eyes wet with unshed tears.
Ollie goes silent, and I assume she’s composing herself during the remainder of the ride to Rita’s house.
Jazz insists on carrying the gifts she helped me pick out for the graduates—cotton throw blankets bearing the inn’s logo for their dorm rooms. We follow the sound of music around to the backyard, which is decked out for the garden party with bulb lights strung across the patio. A long table is covered in hot pink linens with bouquets of fat zinnias in bright colors running down the center. Parker is stationed at a makeshift bar, mixing drinks and pouring a pale green concoction from a pitcher.
Jazz runs off to deliver her gifts, and Ollie excuses herself to powder her nose. When Jack goes to the bar for drinks, I make my way over to Presley who is chatting with her grandparents, Rita and Lucy’s parents. Even though I’ve met Sam and Carolyn Townsend numerous times, I’m once again struck by the uncanny resemblance between Presley and her grandmother.
I greet everyone, including Emma’s younger-by-one-year sister, Abigail. My gaze lands on Emma. “So, this is it, huh? Are you all packed and ready?”
Emma grins. “You know it! Mom, Abby, and I are heading out at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Chris doesn’t leave until later in the week.”
“We loved having you this summer. You’re pleasant to be around and enormously resourceful. At any point in the future, if you want to work with us at Hope Springs Farm, you’ve got yourself a job.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Stella. But I’m like Presley.” Emma loops her arm through her cousin’s. “Hope Springs is too small for me. I’m gonna live in LA.”
I smile, more to myself than Emma. I once thought big cities were the only place to live. Now I wouldn’t trade my small town for anything.
When Emma launches into an animated monologue about parties for the rich and famous, I turn to Presley. “What have you decided? Are you planning to stay in town until the baby comes?”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” Presley says, and we separate ourselves from the others. “I don’t want to talk about Everett. I might cry and ruin the party. But things aren’t going well between us. I haven’t heard from him since he was here in July.”
“Oh honey. I’m so sorry.” I reach out and tuck a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear.
She swats my hand away. “Don’t be nice to me right now, Stella. I can’t handle it. I’ll burst into tears and ruin the party for the kids.”
“In that case . . .” I give her my best bitch face, and we both laugh.
“I never dreamed I’d have a baby at age thirty. But here we are.” She rubs her belly. “I love this little one more than life itself. We don’t need Everett. We’ll figure things out on our own. My mother’s disease forced me to grow up at a young age. I’ve always been self-sufficient. And I’ll teach my child to be the same.”
“Relying on others who love you isn’t a weakness, Presley.”
“I know that.” She holds her chin high. “And I need my family and friends more than ever right now. Which is why I’d like to rent the caretaker’s cottage if the offer still stands.”
“The cottage is all yours for as long as you wanna stay.” A lightbulb goes off in my head. The solution makes so much sense, I don’t know why I haven’t thought of it before. “Actually, I’d like to hire you to be the interim caretaker.”
Presley’s brow creases. “You don’t have to create a job for me. Although, if you need me, I’d like to continue planning events with Amelia.”
Taking Presley by the hand, I drag her farther away from the others. “Actually, I’m in desperate need of a caretaker, a second in command. And you would be the perfect person. I’m pregnant.” I press my finger to my lips. “Don’t tell anyone. I’m keeping it a secret until I reach the second trimester. But I feel awful. Morning sickness all day long.”
“So that’s why I haven’t seen much of you lately.” Presley’s gray eyes are bright. “I want to squeal right now, I’m so excited for you. And for me. We’re gonna be mamas together.”
My mind spins. “I’m serious, though. Will you be my caretaker? I realize you’ll need time off when the baby comes.”
“Not too much time. I’m hoping to get a nanny.”
“I plan to do the same. I can’t see either of us being happy as stay-at-home moms.” I lean back against the fence. “With Emma leaving, Amelia will need an assistant. We’re looking to hire a second full-time event planner. Ideally, you’ll oversee all of the events. You’ll be busy doing both jobs, but I’ll pay you well. And you’ll live rent-free at the cottage.”
Presley wraps her arms around herself. “I just got chill bumps. I’m totally up for the challenge. I haven’t been this excited about anything in a long time.”
“Me too.” My shoulders slump as I exhale a deep breath. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am. Now I can sleep all day and not feel guilty. Which is all I’ve been doing when I’m not puking my guts up.”
Presley hugs me. “It’ll get better soon.”
Nearby laughter gets our attention. Brian is talking animatedly, and Rita and Lucy are swiping at happy tears. “I wonder what’s so funny,” Presley says, and we cross the patio to join them.
“I’m glad to see everyone is having a good time,” Presley says.
“Brian is trying to set me up with a goofball,” Lucy says, and the sisters burst into more laughter.
Presley and I exchange a look, as though they’ve lost their minds. I look over at my uncle. “Care to explain?”
Brian chuckles. “Andrew is a friend of mine. He recently divorced his wife. He’s a successful attorney, a rabid pit bull in the courtroom. He’s a bit of a goofball, but in a good way.”
Rita straightens. “Brian was telling us funny stories about him.”
Lucy presses her lips thin, as though fighting back more laughter. “In all seriousness, Brian, thank you for thinking of me. But I’m not ready to date. Maybe in a few months. For now, I want to spend time with my son.” Her gaze shifts to Presley. “And my daughter.”
There’s not a dry eye in the group when Presley takes Lucy into her arms. Lucy finally appears to be getting her life in order.
I break away from them and go in search of Jack. We mingle until Rita calls us to the table for dinner. She delivers a touching speech about how much her daughter means to her and how much she’ll miss her when she’s gone to college. Abigail, Lucy, and Rita do a skit about Emma and Chris that has the whole table in stitches.
Parker cooks the hamburgers to perfection, one of the few meals I’ve been able to keep down in weeks. I watch Cecily and Parker while I devour the meal. The two are oblivious to others around them, lost in their own little world. Cecily’s green eyes sparkle and her face is rosy as she listens intently to him talk. I never saw her smitten like this with Lyle. I’m happy for her. At the same time, I worry it’s too soon after her breakup, and I don’t want to see her get hurt.
After strawberry shortcake for dessert, I pull her aside. “What’s going on with you and Parker?”
She places her hand on her heart. “I swear. We’re friends without benefits. I must say, though, I have to control myself to keep from jumping his bones. But I’m waiting. For both our sakes, I want to make certain I’m over Lyle.”
“Wait a minute.” Taking a step back, I give her the once-over. “Who are you? And what’d you do with my impulsive friend Cecily?”
“Ha ha.” Her face turns serious. “I’m trying, Stella. He’s so wonderful. I don’t want to screw up my chances with him. I never felt like this about Lyle.”
“I noticed. You’re actually beaming.”
She touches her fingers to her face. “Really? I loved Lyle. But in a different way. Lyle and I viewed the world through two very different lenses. Parker and I have the same values, the same goals and ambitions. It’s almost too good to be real. We’re on the same page about almost everything.”
“Just be careful.”
“Trust me, I am. For now, we’re just hanging out, getting to know each other.”
“That’s important. I’m happy for you, Cecily,” I say, giving her a hug.
After cleanup, when the others settle in for after-dinner drinks on the terrace, Jack and I bid everyone goodnight and retrieve Jazz from the sofa in the living room where she’s fallen asleep. When we arrive home, I help Jazz up the stairs, leaving Jack to let Angel out and lock up. After tucking her into bed, I retire to my room and change into my pajamas. I’m standing at the window, staring out at the inn, when Jack comes up a few minutes later.
Standing behind me, he says, “You’re a million miles away. What’re you thinking?”
“I’m worried about Presley and Everett. Their marriage is in trouble. His newfound fame is presenting challenges. Do you think love is enough to make marriages last?”
“Sometimes. But not always. In order to weather the worst storms, it helps if husbands and wives share similar beliefs and a vision for the future. Lucky for us, you and I see eye to eye about most things.”
“I agree.” I turn to face him. “Cecily figured out the hard way that she and Lyle were on opposite ends of the spectrum concerning fundamental issues.”
“At least she realized it before making a colossal mistake,” Jack says.
“True. I hope Presley and Everett are just going through a rough patch. But I’m worried they don’t have the glue to keep it together.”
“Who knows after their whirlwind engagement and wedding,” Jack says with a chuckle.
“True. They didn’t really think through either.”
Jack kisses the end of my nose. “You’re gonna be an awesome mama.”
“That’s a nice thing to say. You’re gonna be an awesome dad too.”
“I’m serious, Stella. You’re already a great mother hen to your other chickens. Not only to Jazz, but to Cecily and Presley and Ollie as well. You’re an excellent leader. You exert the right combination of sternness, empathy, and sincerity.”
“I do feel like their mother sometimes.” I rest my head on Jack’s chest. “But mostly they feel like my sisters. I’ve never had friends like them. They mean the world to me. Trouble has a way of following those chickens around. And I sense there is more on the horizon. I will do everything in my power to protect them.”
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