Page 45 of The Healing of Christmas

“Have you already signed something?” Frankie asked quietly. “Is the deal finalized?”

“No,” Grandpa Hank said. “I told them I needed to talk to my family first. But I also told them I was pretty sure I’d go through with it.”

Frankie gestured vaguely toward Charlotte. “You know that Charlotte wanted to take over the inn? To build it back up again?”

Grandpa Hank’s eyes glinted with tears. “I know,” he whispered. “But Charlotte, you don’t want this life. You’re living a beautiful life in the city. You’re writing all those gorgeous children’s books. I don’t want you to strap yourself to a sinking ship.”

Grandpa Hank looked even more exhausted. He palmed the back of his neck and excused himself back to his bedroom. “I have some more thinking to do,” he muttered.

“I hope you’ll join us for dinner?” Charlotte’s voice broke.

Grandpa Hank turned back to lock eyes with her. “I’ll be there, Charlotte. Thank you for making our final Christmas in the Cherry Inn so special. I’ll never forget it. And neither will the rest of the family.”

After Grandpa Hank disappeared behind his bedroom door, Charlotte scrubbed at the bottom of the pot of mashed potatoes with a wooden spoon, swirling with anger and sorrow. She couldn’t believe these men had gone out of their way to stalk her grandfather and manipulate him.

Then again, was it manipulation? If the money was as good as her grandfather said, and her grandfather really wanted that money, who was Charlotte to say he shouldn’t take it? He was the owner of the Cherry Inn, after all.

Had Charlie been one of the men? Or had they been the men Louise had reported seeing at the diner, vultures stalking their prey? Charlotte closed her eyes and wavered from foot to foot, suddenly dizzy.

“What are you thinking, Mom?” Van asked.

Charlotte sighed. “I’m thinking that I need to go see your grandmother. Can you handle the food for a little while?”

ChapterTwenty

Louise wasn’t at her house, nor was she at the diner. Charlotte rushed through downtown White Plains with her heart in her throat, her cheeks frozen with tears. She called Louise three times, but Louise either ignored the calls or didn’t notice them. Where was she?

The thought struck Charlotte just before she gave up: Louise had a lover.

Charlotte tore up the steps of Bert’s house and steeled herself before she rang the bell. She heard the television behind the door, along with the murmur of two different voices. Bert cracked open the door and smiled at Charlotte immediately; his eyes were guarded. He knew about the newest feud.

“Is my mother here, Bert?”

“She is.” Bert scratched his beard. “I can’t promise she’ll come to the door.”

“Can you tell her it’s extremely important?” Charlotte said, her breath heavy with fog.

Bert beckoned Charlotte into the foyer and closed the door behind her. The foyer was decorated with signage that indicated Bert loved fishing more than anything else in the world. A stack of old newspapers sat in the corner, and a framed photograph of Bert and a young man hung on the wall. Was that his son?

Louise appeared in the doorway between the foyer and the kitchen and glowered at Charlotte with more vitriol than she’d ever shown— impressive, given their history. “Can I help you?”

Charlotte let her shoulders drop. She hated showing such weakness in front of her mother. But wasn’t showing weakness one of the main elements of loving and being loved? Wasn’t that part of the game?

“I’m really sorry, Mom.” Charlotte stuttered. “I’m sorry I dismissed you last night.”

Louise’s face softened. “Oh no,” she breathed. “Don’t tell me it happened.”

“They tracked down Grandpa. The offer was enormous, obviously. Just as you said it would be. And Grandpa is considering it.”

“That makes sense.” Louise’s face was marred with pain. “My father has been through a lot. It doesn’t surprise me that he wants to leave the past behind.”

Charlotte’s lips quivered. “And I know it’s selfish of me, coming back after so many years away and demanding that he keep the inn. I just felt so ready for it. A new phase. A new identity as an innkeeper.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m so tired of struggling in the city. I’m tired of fighting with my publishers and having my ideas for children’s books rejected.”

Louise took several steps into the foyer and touched Charlotte’s elbow gently. Her eyes were nothing but compassionate.

“Most of all, I’m tired of sleeping alone,” Charlotte whispered. “And I’m tired of picking the wrong men. Men who are clearly only out to ruin my life.”

Louise nodded, her eyes to the ground. “I hate that Charlie didn’t turn out to be who you thought.”

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