Chapter 17

Sarah and Mr. Glenn went to check in while Mrs. Gordon sat in the car with Baby Owen. The proprietor offered them hot apple cider as they filled out their registration cards.

“Last week we had lemonade, but the weather didn’t seem to call for that today. Jeepers, it’s cold for July.” He passed a cup to Sarah. He was wearing a wool sweater plus a corduroy jacket buttoned almost to the top.

“I had lemonade the last time I was here, in May,” Sarah said, warming her hands on the cup.

“Well then, welcome back. We always appreciate repeat customers. Lemonade in May, hot cider in July. Go figure.”

The steaming cider tasted delicious, and Sarah relaxed now that she was out of the car.

“Did you have to drive far in this soup?”

“All the way from San Francisco,” said Mr. Glenn. “Thought we’d never get here. I haven’t been down here in years. All those hairpin turns. It was farther than I remembered.”

“Yes, a lot of people say that. And traffic. Sometimes that’s a surprise, so much traffic these days,” said the proprietor. “I see from your reservation that you need a crib in one of the rooms. How old is the child?” This he addressed to Sarah.

Sarah turned to Mr. Glenn. “I’m not sure. Mr. Glenn, do you know?”

“Darned if I know,” he said.

The man looked from Sarah to Mr. Glenn. “Ahem,” he said.

Sarah started to laugh. “The person who knows is in the car with him. He’s a year and some months. Do you have to know exactly?”

“No, but we have two different cribs, and the older kids can climb out of the smaller crib. That age can be climbers. Better give you the big crib. His mother is in the car, then?”

“Not exactly his mother,” said Mr. Glenn. The man glanced up from his writing.

“More like his grandmother.” Sarah winked at Mr. Glenn.

“Ah, the grandmother. That’s fine.” He collected their cards and placed them on the counter. “Are you all related?”

“As much as a bunch of people who live together and see each other every day,” said Mr. Glenn.

“We’re not related, but we might as well be. I think of us as one big, extended family,” said Sarah.

“You all live together, though?” The proprietor examined the cards again.

“We live in the same apartment building,” said Sarah.

“Oh, I remember those days,” he said with a smile. “I lived in the city for years, just after college, and I knew everything there was to know about my neighbors in my building. I lived in the Richmond district. How about you?”

“Pacific Heights,” said Mr. Glenn. “I’ve lived there forever. I’ve seen lots of people come and go.”

“And you?” The man read from the card. “Sarah James? Have you been there long?”

“Just a year in San Francisco,” Sarah said.

“Ah, a transplant,” said the man. “I thought I detected a tiny accent. I’m from Virginia and I bet dollars to donuts you are too.”

Sarah laughed. “You are the first person who’s ever noticed. I thought I left it behind years ago. I can’t hear your accent either.”

“I’ve moved around. Haven’t been back in years. I couldn’t drawl if I tried.”

“Me either,” Sarah said. “Though I don’t think I ever drawled to start with. I’m from the north, just outside DC.”

“So am I! Arlington. It’s a small world. What brought you to California?”

“My job,” she said.

“She’s a doctor.” Mr. Glenn smiled at her and stood up taller.

Sarah set her empty cup on the counter. Mrs. Gordon must be wondering where they were all this time. “We’d better get going. They might be getting cold.” She gestured to the driveway.

“Ah, yes, I’ll let you settle in. The rooms are next door to each other. Dinner starts at five, but just let me or Marco, our chef, know if you’re hungry before that, and we can fix you up. We’ve had some cancellations and we’re not very busy this weekend.” He handed them key cards and a pamphlet explaining the amenities.

“We strive to make this a pleasant trip for you,” he said. “I am happy to try to accommodate any requests.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Glenn said. “Looks like Sarah was right about this place.”

The proprietor beamed as he walked around the counter and opened the door for them.

Sarah breathed in the cool, foggy air. This would be a wonderful weekend, no matter what the weather.

They walked out to the car and found Baby Owen changed into a new outfit, the car somehow aired out, and Mrs. Gordon and Baby Owen both asleep.