Page 39 of The Wexley Inn
“That’s correct,” Isabella said, “and we’ve preserved one of those original shared bathrooms as a historical feature on the third floor. But modern guests expect private bathrooms, and we want to provide them with what they need to ensure the inn’s commercial viability. I highly doubt anyone here would prefer to share a bathroom with strangers rather than have their own private facilities when staying at the inn.”
She directed attention to the architectural plans. “We’ve designed each bathroom addition to be minimally invasive to the original room layouts. We will utilize existing closet spaces where possible and ensure that all new features complement the historical aesthetic. The plumbing will be concealed within existing walls wherever feasible, so that we can minimize any structural changes.”
After nearly forty-five minutes of detailed questioning, the chairman opened the floor to public comments. Isabella braced herself, unsure of what to expect from the island residents.
To her surprise, the first speaker was Charlotte Stewart, who rose to offer enthusiastic support for the project.
“My family has lived on this island for four generations,” she said. “Some of my fondest childhood memories involve celebrating at The Wexley Inn. What Ms. Montgomery and Mr. Langley have presented tonight shows a deep respect for our island’s heritage, and I want to wholeheartedly support their plans.”
Several other residents followed with similar endorsements, many referencing historical details from the presentation that resonated with their memories of the inn. Isabella felt a growing sense of optimism.
Then Vivian Pierce’s closest ally on the island, Amelia Ashford, approached the podium with a different perspective.
“While I appreciate the efforts to preserve certain elements at the inn,” she said in a very measured tone, “I remain concerned about the cumulative impact of these modernizations on the building’s historical integrity. When we begin compromising on preservation standards for commercial reasons, we risk losing what makes our island unique.”
Isabella tensed slightly, recognizing the potential impact of this argument on board members who valued preservation above all else.
Before she could even think of a response, an unexpected voice joined the discussion.
“If I may,” Luella Washington said, rising from her seat at the back of the room.
The board chairman nodded, clearly recognizing her significance at the proceedings.
“I have lived and worked at The Wexley Inn for over forty years,” she said. “I’ve seen renovations come and go, some that were respectful of the building’s character, and others that were less so. And what Ms. Montgomery proposes is the most thoughtful approach I’ve ever witnessed. Preserving what matters while also acknowledging that the buildings have to change to remain useful.”
She looked around the room, her expression challenging anybody to dispute her unique perspective.
“A building preserved exactly as it was, but sitting empty, serves absolutely nobody in this community. The inn always was meant to be lived in, worked in, celebrated in, and her plans will make that possible.”
The simple eloquence of Luella’s statement seemed to resonate with many of the people in the room. Isabella felt so grateful toward the older woman whose endorsement carried more weight than dozens of technical arguments could have.
After a few more comments, the chairman closed the public portion of the meeting and announced the board would deliberate in private.
Isabella and Thomas gathered their materials as the room cleared, neither of them speaking until they were alone in the hallway.
“Well, I think that went better than I expected,” Isabella said.
“Luella’s intervention was very effective,” Thomas agreed. “There’s no arguing with somebody who’s literally lived in that building’s history for nearly half a century.”
“So should we wait for the decision?” she asked, glancing toward the closed meeting room door.
He checked his watch. “Their deliberations take at least thirty minutes, sometimes longer. You know, there’s a small café across the street that stays open late on meeting nights just for this purpose. Coffee is decent, and it’s better than just standing in this hallway.”
The Island Bake Shop was warm and inviting, with comforting aromas of fresh pastries still lingering in the air, even though it was late at night. A few other attendees for the meeting had also sought refuge there, quietly talking at tables scattered around the room. Isabella and Thomas found a corner spot by the window where they could see the entrance to the municipal building.
“Well, regardless of the outcome, your presentation was great,” Thomas said, as they settled in with their coffees. “You addressed every concern thoughtfully and respectfully.”
“We addressed them,” she corrected, “and your technical explanations were crucial, especially talking about the structural modifications.”
He smiled slightly. “I guess we make a good team.”
Isabella's pulse quickened at the observation. They did work well together - too well. It reminded her of late nights in the architecture studio, how their ideas had flowed seamlessly, and how right it felt to create something together. That same dangerous ease was creeping back, and she didn't know whether to embrace it or run from it.
The simple observation hung between them, carrying way more weight than its casual delivery suggested. Their different perspectives and complementary skills created a more effective whole than either of them could achieve individually.
“Charlotte’s support was unexpected,” Isabella said, trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “I knew she was friendly at Maggie’s party, but such a public endorsement probably carried a lot of weight.”
“Oh, Charlotte rarely speaks at these meetings,” Thomas said, “and when she does, people listen. Her family’s been on the island for a long time, which gives her opinions a certain weight in the community.”
