Page 4 of The Magic of Sea Glass
“Joe?” she asked.
“He’s a friend of mine. Comes over from time to time.” She put her hands on her wide hips and gave them a playful shake. “He’s five years older than I am, so he makes me feel like a spring chicken. That’s the real reason I spend time with him.” She winked at Lauren.
The woman’s candor warmed her.
“Lemonade okay?”
“Yes. That sounds delicious. Why don’t you let me help you up to the porch?” Lauren offered her arm.
Mary took it with a grateful nod.
“Is there another place where the guests park?” Lauren asked, making conversation as she peered out at the near-empty parking lot.
Mary sighed. “Nope. This is it. We never get full enough to need more parking; although, I suppose if, by some miracle, we got busy, people could park on the street if they had to.”
Lauren nodded, trying to maintain her pleasant expression the way she did when something went wrong at a wedding but she didn’t want the bride to know a thing. It was still summer and, if the parking lot was any indication, the place was almost entirely vacant. Given the congestion she’d seen on the ride into town, that wasn’t typical.
“You couldn’t have answered the ad quickly enough for me,” Mary said, as they maneuvered around a bed of seagrass. “We don’t have half the guests we used to have, and I’m struggling to manage.”
Lauren nodded. “Why do you think you haven’t gotten people in?”
Mary frowned. “This inn was always my husband’s job. When he passed away, it became my job.”
That familiar punch to the gut that she felt whenever someone mentioned losing someone hit her.
“Ever since I took over, it’s slowly declined,” Mary continued. She brightened, but Lauren could tell it was only for her benefit. “I’m hoping to get a second opinion on bringing vacationers in; maybe I’m doing something wrong.”
“Perfect timing, then. Maybe I could offer my thoughts.” Lauren held her steady while the woman gripped her cane. They took each step up the wide wooden staircase leading to the porch, the foamy spray of the ocean crawling across the sand under the house. “Does the water ever reach the steps?” she asked.
“Not very often,” Mary replied, unbothered. “Only during storms.”
While she worked with Mary to get her to the house, the sun beating down on them as they ascended the final steps, the southern humidity blanketed Lauren’s skin, causing a dampness between her shoulder blades. But when they got to the top of the wraparound porch with the view of the Atlantic, the coastal breeze blew down the side of the house against them, giving her instant relief.
Mary pulled away from Lauren. “You see the dolly there?”
“Yes, thank you,” Lauren replied, taking in the vast ocean, the only body of water comparable to the tears that she’d cried over the last year.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Mary said from beside her.
“It sure is.”
“It makes everything feel okay. Anytime I need a pick-me-up, I sit out here.” Mary gestured to the row of rocking chairs along the back of the house, overlooking the sparkling cobalt-blue sea. In each of the two corners, a hammock swung back and forth in the breeze while the wind chime above tinkled out a melody.
Lauren took in a deep breath of the briny air, the salt settling on her skin, and felt a little brighter than she had when she’d first arrived in town.
“I’ll get our lemonade,” Mary said.
“Thank you.” Lauren tore herself away from the view and took the dolly over to the wooden ramp on the side of the house.
As she rolled it back to the parking lot to get her bags, a Silverado with the windows down and music playing a little too loudly pulled to a stop beside her car.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Brody Harrison from the market said, cutting the engine and getting out.
A wave of something unrecognizable washed over her. Strangely, it felt good to see a familiar face, yet his personable demeanor put her on edge. She hadn’t considered whether she was ready to make new friends. In planning this trip, she’d imagined that she’d be alone, working through her thoughts like she always had. Brody’s presence was an unplanned surprise, and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it.
Then she caught Brody eyeing her Louis Vuitton bags before his gaze swept over the BMW, and she could’ve sworn she saw judgment in his eyes. She bristled. He didn’t know her; he didn’t know that she’d built her fortune from the ground up. She clenched her jaw shut, trying not to let it bother her. The skill of navigating her world alone was difficult for her now. She wasn’t strong enough emotionally to stand her ground in times like these.
“Did you follow me?” she asked, feeling as exposed as an open wound with no bandage to protect it.
