Page 4 of Lakehouse Mistletoe
Cybil watched her.
“I hate having to go to the grocery store and see Carl’s new girlfriend buying steaks for two or running into them at the coffee shop while they are holding hands. I need a fresh start where no one knows what a fool I am for trusting my husband.”
Cybil studied her a few seconds before opening her mouth. “You know I want to keep you here for my own selfish reasons. I was born here, and I’ll probably die here. But you, Helen, are braver than me. And I understand why you want to do this. I’ll support you in any way I can.”
Helen smiled. “I was hoping you would say that. I can’t bear the thought of losing my only friend in the world.”
Cybil grasped her hand. “That will never happen.” She looked at the donut box. “What do you say we celebrate your new job with a glazed?”
Helen opened the box and handed her a glazed donut while she took a raspberry filled one for herself. “Here’s to starting over, even at my age.”
Chapter 3
Helen pulled into Hopeton, North Carolina, around five p.m. The town was picturesque—like something from a postcard. Shops lined the main street of the town, with the picture windows decorated in charming colors of fall leaves, pumpkins, and Thanksgiving turkeys. Streetlamps were starting to come on, casting a moody light onto the sidewalks.
She pulled her older model Chevy sedan into a parking spot near one of the restaurants. After the divorce, she’d managed to get a good deal on an older model car from one of Cybil’s friends who owned a used car lot. It wasn’t fancy, but it had low mileage and was dependable.
It had taken her two days to travel from Arkansas to North Carolina. Since she was trying to save money instead of getting hotel rooms, she would pull over and nap at rest areas when she felt she couldn’t drive any further.
Cybil had offered her some money to start her new life on the right foot, but Helen declined.
She needed to start fresh, on her own terms and with what little cash she had. Money, or lack thereof, had wrecked her marriage. She didn’t want money to ruin a friendship.
Helen got out of her car and arched her back to stretch out the stiffness from sitting so long.
The breeze picked up, and she smiled at the cold, crisp November wind.
After making sure her door was locked, she headed into the Main Street Grill and Bar.
There was a crowd already and no empty tables, so she walked over to the bar. Easing onto the barstool, she plucked a menu off the counter and scanned the items.
Her stomach growled at the smell of fried hamburgers and onion rings.
“What can I get you to drink?” A middle-aged man with soft brown hair and matching brown eyes wiped down the counter in front of her.
“Just a water,” she said quietly.
“Sure thing.” He returned with a large glass of ice water. “Our specials are the Reuben and fries today. And cheesecake for dessert.”
Her mouth watered. “Sounds good.” She was tired of eating gas store food, but she was also mindful of her money.
She studied the cheaper options on the menu. “I think I’ll have the potato soup and a house salad with Thousand Island on the side.”
The bartender smiled. “I’ll put that right in for you.” He walked toward the kitchen.
Helen took a long sip of her water and studied the room.
It was an older building, but recent updating had been done. The walls were painted a soft green and the wood floors appeared to be refinished. The tables had linen tablecloths, but the vibe was casual. She had been reading up on the town and knew that tourism was big in Hopeton during the summer. She figured, since the snow hampered travel in winter, the townspeople got a break from the tourists.
She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. She typed in the directions to the bed and breakfast. Surprisingly, it was only a ten-minute drive from the restaurant.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” the bartender asked. “My name is Oliver King, by the way. I am born and raised in Hopeton, so I know every face.” He held out his hand.
Helen smiled and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Oliver. I’m Helen Dunn. And you are correct. I’m not from here. I just arrived today. I will be the caretaker of a B&B.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Oh yeah? Which one?”
She looked down at her phone at the directions. “Laurel Cove Bed and Breakfast. It’s on the lake.” She held out her phone for him to see.
