Page 31 of All Inn Thyme
I wonder if he’s forgotten Sassy. “That would be nice, honey.”
“Allie says you have to spill the tea, whatever that means, so Caleb and I ate already so we can go paint with Grandma Margie.”
My heart softens hearing him call her that. Margie treats Kase like her own grandchild and loves doing fun things with him. I’m so grateful for her. She’s the only grandparent my son will probably ever have. Tears prick my eyes at the thought, in a mix of gratitude and relief.
“That sounds fun. What are you going to paint?”
“Dinosaurs,” he says.
“Can you change first? I don’t want you to get paint on your good shirt.”
“You, too, Mom. Don’t get tea on your shirt.” The poor kid looks genuinely confused and I don’t have the heart to explain to him that “spilling the tea” means telling the details.
Margie comes out and gives me a hug. “Sorry about your place, honey.”
“I’m just sorry it happened.” I hug her back. “Thanks for painting with him today.”
“It’s my pleasure. We’ve got dinos to paint, don’t we, boys?”
“Yeah,” the boys call back to her.
“Have a good day, honey. Get a good breakfast in you.” It feels nice to have Margie care about me like she cares about Kase, like we are loved.
They go over to the path that leads to Margie’s cottage as I enter the kitchen, my stomach immediately grumbling. The counters are covered in sausage, bacon, and cheese, and something sweet is baking. Guests take plates of food to the dining room and friendly chatter fills the air.
“Hey, Sasha,” I call out. “It smells amazing in here.”
The first day we walked into the inn and met Sasha, she greeted us with hugs and love. No questions asked. Just fed us, laughed with us, and make us feel like part of the family here. I’ve sat at this very kitchen counter and cried and laughed with everyone so many times I can’t keep count. She’s told us about her and Pete and their history of working at the inn. She gently prodded into my past but quickly realized she’s better off focusing on our present when I wouldn’t talk about it. She’s become a protective mama bear to us, and I’d do anything for Sasha.
“Good morning, Mellie. Omelets, grilled blueberry muffins, and fresh fruit,” Sasha says.
“Sounds good to me.”
“I’ll bring you a plate. You get settled, okay?” she asks as she walks by and pats my shoulder.
Sasha and Pete have been at the inn since Evan and Allie were young. I love when Sasha tells us funny stories from when they were little, and I like to tease Evan about some of his escapades. Like when he thought a skunk was a barn cat and he petted it in the dark and almost got sprayed.
Which reminds me I still need to get him back for the gardening uniform comment. I can’t believe Ty told him about seeing me in my underwear.
I sigh and sit back.
“Why the long sigh?” Sasha asks as she flips my omelet in her cast-iron pan.
“Just been a long week.”
“It’s Tuesday.” She laughs.
“You know what I mean.” I grin. “Where’s Allie and Beth?”
“They’ll be back in a minute. They ran out to pick up some things from town.”
Sasha pours me a cup of juice and sets it in front of me. “You need to eat more, honey. You work too much, and you don’t take enough breaks. Gonna work yourself into the ground.”
“I know. I just want to get everything planted so we can get the farmers’ market up and running. Then I’ll have more time.”
“That’s a lie and you know it.” She laughs. “You’ll always find stuff to do in those gardens. What do you have left?”
“I’m not sure. I need to make a new plan. Check everything over for damages. Get everything straightened out.”
