Page 50 of The Magic of Sea Glass
“Maybe you will,” Lauren offered.
Melinda perked up. “Is that hope I hear from you?” She smiled at Lauren. “Maybe I’ll get lucky?” She gave her a wink. “Unlike you, Idobelieve in luck. And I believe that it finds us when we least expect it.”
THIRTEEN
The sun sent glorious beams through Lauren’s curtains the next morning, so she pulled them back and opened the French doors in her bedroom as she made the bed. After her talk with Melinda last night, she’d been able to get some sleep and woke up feeling refreshed. She moved to the dresser and picked up the sea glass bracelet, turning it over in her hand, recalling Phillip’s story.
On her way downstairs to get the address for the printing company, she had a new pep in her step. When she got there, the film crew was already camped out in front of Mary’s office. They scrambled to attention, while Diane came over and got Lauren camera ready.
“We’ve been wondering if you’d ever emerge from your suite,” Dave said. “I was about to knock on the door.”
She remembered how her privacy wasn’t hers anymore when Dave and his show were involved, but she also recalled how they couldn’t do anything when she was in her private home. It was off-limits.
When she got inside, the office was empty. Mary was probably still with the guests at breakfast—lucky woman.
“Sorry to jump right in,” Dave said, “but I’m squeezed for footage time.” The cameraman adjusted the heavy handheld on his shoulder while another one set up a tripod in the cramped space. A portable light popped on right in her face, causing spots in her vision. They’d only just started and the heat from all the people and lighting caused a prickle of perspiration at the back of her neck. “Just carry on with what you’re doing and don’t mind us. We’re not even here.”
Trying to look as natural as she could, given what was going on, she sat down at the desk. When she did, in front of her was the pile of sea glass that she’d left in the trash last night, with a note:
Lauren,
The chef found these in the kitchen scraps bin and thought they were too beautiful to discard. When he gave them to me, I knew they were yours. I hope the cleaning crew didn’t think they were garbage and strip them from your suite. Anyway, we saved them, and they’re back with you, where they belong.
Love,
Mary
Lauren read the final words again:back with you, where they belong. The sea glass seemed to find her no matter what. She couldn’t get rid of them. The sight of it was oddly comforting, though, given the circumstances. Feeling better about them this morning than she had last night, she scooped up the pieces and slipped them into her pocket.
She scribbled down the address for the printing company, grabbed her handbag, and headed out to get the printed sign so that the interior painting could begin, with the TV crew following behind her the whole way.
* * *
That afternoon, after picking up the sign from the printer and placing it in the main room, Lauren took care of a few phone calls. She chatted with the beach preservation society to see about the dwindling shoreline at the back of the inn and scheduled the exterior work. Then she packed up the room to clear it for the interior painters while Mary handled the guests.
Dave and his crew had settled at the corners of the room with their cameras rolling, and, while she didn’t love it, Lauren was getting used to having them around again.
As she stood atop a chair, unscrewing the old curtain rods, Brody’s voice floated over to her.
“Mary said you needed my help?” He eyed Carl and the cameraman.
She glanced down at him before she went back to the task. The feel of his touch on her arm raced through her mind, and she hoped the cameras didn’t pick up on it. Dave’s team was notorious for tapping into inner emotions, capturing the movement of a hand or the blink of an eye to divulge a feeling, and they were bizarrely accurate. “I didn’t tell Mary that I needed help.”
Lauren twisted the screwdriver with her sore hands, all the screws stripped and difficult to get out of the wall after so many years. When she turned to address Brody once more, she realized he had a ladder under his arm, a toolbox, and a toolbelt around his waist.
“She asked me to bring the basics along with some storage containers,” he said, setting the ladder up next to her and then reaching into his collection of tools. He climbed up and placed a small drill over the screw she’d been wrestling with. One quick buzz and it came out of the wall.
“I could’ve used that four screws ago,” she said, rubbing her red fingers.
He grinned at her and quickly removed another, the rod coming down. Lauren climbed off her chair and he handed the dusty hardware to her.
One of the crew members rolled his camera closer, moving between them. Dave raised a finger in the air and one camera was on her while the other tipped up to get a shot of Brody atop the ladder, and her heart fluttered. This show was not aboutthem. It was about the wedding that they were renovating the inn for. The very last thing she needed was for the public at large to think there was anything going on between her and Brody. First, it would put incredible pressure on the both of them if things went anywhere, and then even more stress if they didn’t work out.Andthe public still thought she was engaged. There was no way she’d ever rehash the last year on film for the benefit of the viewers. She’d have to be very careful. She turned away from Brody and dragged one of the upholstered side chairs to the middle of the room to get it into position for the painters.
“The back of my truck is full of boxes for all the stuff,” he called down to her.
She peeked over to one of the cameras out of the corner of her eye and realized it was still positioned right on her face. A swell of warmth spread through her cheeks and she looked away. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Brody stretched across the wall and removed another screw, the rod falling loose into his hand. “You want all these drapes taken down, right?”
