Page 32 of The Wexley Inn
“Yes. Well, we’ve learned from experience that good intentions don’t always lead to the right results, haven’t we?” Vivian’s sharp look at Thomas carried the weight of past conflicts. “Some projects that seemed promising at first have turned out to be… problematic for our island's character."
Before either could respond to this thinly veiled criticism, Maggie appeared at Isabella’s elbow. “Vivian, darling, Eloise Whitaker is looking for you. Something about the hospital fundraiser committee meeting.”
With a final tight smile, Vivian excused herself and left Isabella feeling like she had just survived a minor skirmish in an ongoing war.
“Oh, don’t let her rattle you,” Maggie said softly. “Vivian’s influence isn’t what it used to be, even though she believes it is. This is especially true since I became president of the Ladies’ Club.”
“Well, she seems really determined to oppose this renovation,” Isabella said.
Thomas and Maggie exchanged a knowing look.
“It’s not just about the inn,” Thomas said. “Vivian had her eye on the Ladies’ Club presidency for years before Maggie was elected, and before that, she lost the Historical Society chairmanship to my mom.”
“Oh, that’s ancient history,” Maggie waved dismissively. “The point is, her opposition is more about maintaining her perceived authority than any actual concern about your renovation plans.”
“Well, that doesn’t make her any less dangerous to the project,” Isabella said.
“True enough,” Thomas agreed, “but you’re making the right moves right now, today. I’ve spoken with all the board members I could get to, and they all seem impressed by your commitment to historical accuracy.”
The garden party went on as Isabella and Daphne displayed their formal design boards to an attentive crowd. Thomas stayed nearby, offering technical insights when needed and adding credibility to their plans. When guests began their gracious Southern farewells - including air kisses and promises to ‘do lunch soon’ - Isabella felt cautiously optimistic. She’d won hearts and minds today, and in a community where personal relationships matter more than policy positions, that could be decisive.
“You were magnificent,” Maggie declared. “Knowledgeable, passionate, gracious, even when Vivian tried to provoke you. I’d say you’ve won over at least two-thirds of the influential ladies here today.”
“Well, I couldn’t have done it without your support,” Isabella said. “Or Thomas’s,” she added, glancing at him.
“Well, I’ll call today a success,” Maggie said with satisfaction. “Now, why don’t you all stay for a more relaxed drink on the veranda? After managing Vivian and her cronies, you deserve a moment of peace.”
Daphne declined, explaining she had dinner plans with Jake, but Isabella and Thomas accepted the invitation. Soon, they were settled in comfortable wicker chairs on Maggie’s veranda, gin and tonics in hand, watching the late afternoon sun cast a golden light across the carefully tended gardens.
“I’ve always loved this view,” Thomas said, looking relaxed for the first time that day. “Your parents had the best garden parties on the island, Maggie.”
“Oh, Mother did love her entertaining,” Maggie agreed with a fond smile, “though I do think she enjoyed the planning more than the actual events. She was always the happiest when orchestrating social maneuvers.”
“Like mother, like daughter,” Thomas teased.
Maggie laughed. “Guilty as charged, although I like to think my orchestrations serve a greater purpose than just social status.”
Isabella watched the friendly exchange with interest, understanding there was a depth of history between Thomas and Maggie that she hadn’t fully appreciated.
“How long have you two known each other?”
“Oh, forever,” Maggie said. "Thomas's mama, Mary, was my dearest friend and my partner in crime on every committee this island ever invented. When she passed, I promised her I'd keep an eye on this boy of hers. Though I suspect she'd be mighty pleased with how he turned out."
"Maggie stepped in when I needed guidance the most," Thomas said, his voice thick with gratitude. "After my mom died, and years later my dad passed away, when I was trying to figure out how to raise Emma and keep the business going... well, let's just say I wouldn't have made it without her wisdom."
Something in his tone - a hint of deeper meaning - made Isabella wonder if those “difficult times” included the period after they broke up. Before she could think any further about it, Maggie changed the subject.
“Speaking of navigating difficulties, Isabella, have you given any thought to the inn’s opening celebration? I know it may seem premature, but those events take planning, especially if you want to make the right impression on the island.”
"I want to honor everyone who's loved this place - from the original builders to the families who celebrated here, to the island residents who've watched over it during the empty years. An event that bridges past and future, showing how preservation can breathe new life into cherished spaces."
“Perfect,” Maggie nodded. “And the timing? I assume you’re aiming for the holiday season?”
“Well, that’s the goal. Though with renovation timelines, it’s always subject to change.”
“Well, we’re slightly ahead of schedule on the structural work,” Thomas said. “Barring any major surprises, a holiday opening is realistic.”
“Wonderful!” Maggie clapped her hands together. “A Christmas grand opening is going to be so ideal. The inn was always known for its holiday celebrations in the past.”
