Page 7 of Promised Love

“I don’t understand why your father had to give you that birthday present.” The wave of her hand emphasizes how much she hates my beloved ladybug with pink rubber handlebars and a white wicker basket. “Couldn’t he have given you a dollhouse like all other fathers?”

“Mom, I’m sixteen, not six!” I suppress my laugh, knowing she won’t appreciate my humor right now. “Moreover, this is Cherrywood. Every street has a speed limit of thirty.”

Her puckered forehead doesn’t relax, so I grab her hand and lead her inside, waving a hello to Mr. Big on the way.

“I hope everything goes perfectly tonight,” Mom mutters, stopping after every step to straighten something or other.

“Why do you always get so nervous when there’s a wedding at the inn? Everything is perfect every time, exactly as you like.”

“This isn’t just an inn, Autumn. It’s a treasure your grandma gave to me, and someday I’ll pass it to you. It’s important that you know this isn’t just some business. It’s a legacy. Our first goal isn’t to make money, but to make memories.”

We stop outside her office. Over a decade’s worth of photographs hang on the wall, like the one where my great-grandmother is inviting the first guests to the inn. Every time I look at her face in the black-and-white image, there’s a flutter in my belly.

It’s a mix of fear and excitement that tugs my heart.

“We have big shoes to fill,” Mom whispers as she grabs my cold hand. “Taking over a family business isn’t easy, Autumn. There are expectations and trust being put on our shoulders, and our foremost duty is toward the family.”

We take the short walk through the gallery, stopping occasionally. Photographs of newly wedded couples, with Lake Cherry and the hills in the backdrop, give me goosebumps.

“Great-grandma was so lucky to have found this place.”

“It wasn’t luck but hard work. She had to convince her friends Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne to invest in the business.”

The Hawthornes are one of the oldest families from Cherrywood and almost considered royalty.

“But she did.” My arms go around Mom’s waist, and a feeling of pride fills my chest. Sometimes I can’t believe I come from a family of such strong women. Maybe when I’m older I’ll feel it in me too.

I glance at the photographs of all the couples who got married over the years at this inn. Sometimes we get requests from people stating their parents exchanged vows here, and they want to have the same blissful wedding and married life.

I think Mom is only partly right. We don’t just make memories here; we build lives.

“I can’t think of a better place to get married.”

Mom freezes beside me as soon as the words are out of my mouth.

What the hell am I thinking? Marriage?

I’m sixteen for Christ’s sake.

“I never knew you wanted to get married here.” Mom’s voice sounds breathless. Her eyes are still wide, as if she’s seen a ghost.

I expected her to be shocked, but she’s almost freaking out.

“I didn’t know either.” I shrug, looking away for a second and then back at her pale face. “But it makes sense, doesn’t it? You and Dad got married here. So did Grandma and Grandpop. It feels like…being part of the family history in some way.”

“You’re dating someone?” Mom’s hand flattens on the clear wall between two images, as if seeking support.

Why is she this scared just at the mere thought of me dating?

“No, Mom! I’m not dating. You think you and Dad wouldn’t know if I was?”

Her face relaxes as if a giant load has been lifted off her shoulders, and her reaction irritates the heck out of me.

All my time apart from school is spent either at the inn or at home. Since my grandpop was diagnosed with a heart ailment a few years ago, they’ve moved right next to us.

To say I’ve had a sheltered upbringing would be an understatement. I don’t just have helicopter parents who revolve around me, but helicopter grandparents too.

“But…someday I will, and everyone will have to be cool with that.”

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