Page 10 of The Scars I Bare
She waved her hands in a dismissive gesture. “It’s no trouble at all, and it’s starting to slow down anyway. The end of August is always a transitional time for us. You’re the one doing me the favor honestly. Jake has been so crazy lately since Betty retired, and he’s been on his own at that clinic. He’ll be glad for the help, and I’ll be glad to have my fiancé somewhat back to sane.”
I let out a small laugh. “Well, I’ll do what I can.”
I was starting to feel tiny beads of sweat forming around my temples. I’d always been a fan of the heat, growing up in Texas, but even after seven years in Virginia, humidity was still new to me, and right now, I felt like I was about to melt all over the driveway.
“Is there anything I can help you carry in?” she asked. “Jake is on his way. He got stuck at the clinic, but when he gets here, I’ll have him carry in your larger things.”
I bit my lip, unsure of how I felt about the help. “I can manage,” I finally answered.
“Okay, well, how about I show you to your rooms?”
“Rooms?” I asked, not realizing we were occupying more than one.
“Yes,” she answered as she joined me on the other side of the car. When her eyes met Lizzie’s, they lit up with joy, her face beaming back at my little girl as she continued to speak, “Jake and I moved out of the inn a few weeks ago now that our house is renovated. Since I haven’t decided what to do with the two empty family rooms, I thought it would be a nice place for you two. It’s hidden away from other guests, so you’ll have a bit more privacy, and your daughter can have her own room.”
As I finished unbuckling Lizzie’s car seat and she hopped down, I turned to Molly, not quite sure how I was going thank her. “That’s extremely kind of you. But are you sure? I can’t pay you for the extra room.”
She bent down to Lizzie’s height, giving her a little bop on the nose with her finger. “It’s no trouble at all. And no extra charge. But I do need someone around to take care of the place when I’m gone. Nothing major. Just keep an eye on the place and let me know if the guests need anything—that sort of thing. Do you think you could help me with that?”
Realizing she was speaking to Lizzie, I kept quiet as her little head bounced up and down.
“Yes!” she answered enthusiastically. “Is there really a beach in the backyard?”
Molly laughed, rising to her full height before holding out a hand. Lizzie, so trusting in her youth, took it without thinking.
“Let’s go find out. Come on!”
Molly and Lizzie carried on toward the front door while I was left standing there, my gaze shifting between my happy young daughter and the car full of crap that needed to be unloaded. Letting out a sigh of defeat, I decided to let it go, realizing Molly had probably done this on purpose, knowing I’d follow Lizzie rather than trust her with a woman I’d only just met to cart in everything myself.
I guessed it would all have to wait.
Stepping into the inn felt like heaven—if heaven were a deep freeze. The air-conditioning made my skin prickle, but the lack of humidity was glorious. There was a faint floral scent in the air—maybe lilies or hydrangeas. It mixed with the fresh air, giving me a renewed spirit after the sweltering heat.
“Mommy! Look! It’s an exact replica, right down to the coal-burning engine,” Lizzie exclaimed, running into the parlor where a small train set was displayed.
“Lizzie!” I called out, giving my best silent apology to Molly. “That’s not yours, baby girl. You must ask first, remember?”
Her hands, so tiny and curious, stopped mid-reach and retracted, hiding behind her back. “I’m sorry, Mama. I forgot.” The sincerity in her voice slayed me.
“It’s okay. You’re not in trouble. Just a simple reminder, right?”
She nodded, turning her attention toward Molly, who was watching our exchange with interest.
“May I play with your train set, Miss Molly?” Lizzie asked, her hands fidgeting behind her as she waited not so patiently.
“Of course, darling. You may play with it anytime you like.”
She didn’t waste a second. Lizzie dived into that train set, taking each car off the track, one by one, to inspect them. Her fingers brushed over each painted color, every word and number, as if she were memorizing it.
“She’s very curious, isn’t she?” Molly said as we quietly watched her play.
“Very,” I answered. “She always has been. You’re just lucky you didn’t get a plethora of train facts. She must be tired.” I laughed.
Molly seemed to approve. “It’s a good quality to have as a child.”
I chuckled. “I agree with you most days, but every so often, that curiosity gets her into trouble.”
“You must have some good stories.” She laughed.
