Obviously, things aren’t so bad between us if she wants to see me tomorrow. And maybe I can somehow get her to see I didn’t mean to pressure her with my offer about leaving stuff at my house. As for the hot springs, that’s easy. Do I want to see Summer in a bikini? That’s a no brainer. Will it give me an opportunity to tell her about Devereaux? Also, yes. But will I take that opportunity? Fuck if I know.
19
Summer
Ethan and I are not spending the night together for the first time since our do-over date at his house. His suggestion this morning that I leave more clothes at his house threw me for a minute. We aren’t ready to live together, to take that next step. I care about him, but so much in my life is changing right now. I need to take a step back and figure a few things out by myself. For ten years I’ve been independent, relying on no one but myself. But since coming back to Dogwood Cove, I’ve realized that being independent and alone is not as good as being supported and loved. Now I need to find the happy balance where I take care of myself, but stay open to the help everyone wants to offer.
When I get home after teaching my yoga class, I sit on the floor of my apartment with a notebook and a glass of wine and try to organize myself. Looking around the small, furnished studio, I write down the wordrentin big letters. I can’t freeload off of Mila and Ethan forever, and we still haven’t discussed how much the rent for this place would be. I’ve always lived quite frugally, so my other expenses don’t amount to much. My goal is to dedicate the majority of any income I have to the resort. Yesterday while Ethan showed Finn around, I stopped by the bank and was able to open a small business account and negotiate a deal in fees. That was step one to ensuring that the resort is truly my future. Step two is figuring out exactly what I need to reopen; the bare minimum at first, so I can get operational. For the next several minutes I write furiously, my mind whirring with everything that I think I’ll need.
“Holy crap on a cracker,” I mutter when I realize how long that list is. It’s not just the repairs, or the supplies for the repairs, there is also furnishings, décor, business setup stuff like computers and software, equipment for activities, staffing…the list keeps growing. As does my realization that I don’t have a freaking clue what I’m doing. I might have taken some night classes in business management, but nothing that could have prepared me for an undertaking this big. This is starting to feel like the makings of a complete and utter disaster of monumental proportions.
“What the hell were you thinking, Dad?” I ask out loud, wishing he could actually answer me. Maybe he had some grand plan as to how this would all work. Not that it would help me now, since no one has come forward with the answer to all my problems. Needless to say, Dad doesn’t answer me. I’m alone here, in a tiny apartment over a bakery, in a town I haven’t been lived in for almost two decades.
Not alone.I have Ethan.
I do. And Mila, Serena, Paige. Heck Mrs. Henderson, Reid, Pete and Turner would probably help me again if I needed it. I’m not alone. Not anymore. And maybe this was Dad’s plan. Get me back to Dogwood Cove and show me that even with all the years between us, I still have a home and people who care about me. And with their love and support, I’m finding myself and the path I’m meant to be on.
My phone rings, and looking at the screen to see that Mom is calling me stirs up some very mixed feelings. I’m so angry at her, but also hurt and confused. I don’t expect answers, at least not any that I can trust, so I hit ignore on her call. I don’t have the mental energy to spare on her right now.
I stand up and wander into the tiny kitchen area to refill my wine. Now that I have the list of what I need, it’s time to figure out how to get it. Maybe I can barter with Turner for some of the less expensive supplies. His wife was one of the students at my yoga class; if Serena is willing, maybe I can work out a trade. But that only covers a tiny portion of my list. What I really need is money, and lots of it. Too bad my dad didn’t also leave a fat bank account along with the run-down resort. But from what Mrs. Henderson was saying, he spent all his savings on the purchase of the property, then fell sick before he could do anything about the renovations. I won’t qualify for any type of loan, not with my nonexistent credit history, so my only options are to win the lottery or suck it up and figure out a way to pay for everything myself.
It’s only when my second glass of wine is empty, and I’m no closer to solving my problems, that I realize I wish Ethan was here. After all, they do say orgasms are natural stress relievers. I briefly consider texting him, but it’s close to midnight. So, I brush my teeth and crawl into bed alone, hoping that my dreams hold the answers I need. I’m now certain it was Ethan in that dream with me and my dad back before the letter came from the lawyer.
I dreamt of Mrs. Henderson.
What the hell that means, I don’t know. Especially since she was wearing a gigantic green hat and kept telling me to mind the gap. Either my subconscious wants to be in London, or the wine affected me more than I thought it did.
When I get out of bed the next morning, I have half an hour before I am meant to meet Ethan at the bakery. I spend twenty minutes of that time in the shower, both trying to wake up and clear my mind. Before I fell asleep, I resolved to treat today like a mini vacation from everything that is worrying me right now. Just enjoy a day with Ethan, exploring the beauty of the west coast. Even as a child I never went to the hot springs, but I heard about them. I know there are a few pools there that are big enough for only two people, private and surrounded by nothing but trees.
I dress in my bikini, then pull on some workout leggings and a T-shirt over top. A sweater, a towel, and a water bottle go into my backpack, then I grab my keys and go downstairs. When I push open the door to the bakery, it’s already bustling with the morning crowd. Mila and her staff are hurrying around, taking orders, pouring drinks, and serving pastries. She sees me and waves. I wave back before slowly making my way to the side of the front counter. I’m watching the door for Ethan when the sensation of hands snaking around my waist makes me jump.
“Relax, shorty, it’s just me,” Ethan’s warm chuckle fills my ear. I pivot and throw my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.
“I missed you last night,” I whisper.
“Me too. Let’s not do that again.”
I nod, feeling a smile creep over my face. “Deal. Sorry.”
Ethan pulls back, frowning slightly. “Don’t apologize. You needed a bit of space, that’s fine. As long as that’s all you needed.”
“It was,” I answer quickly, kissing him again. He takes it deeper this time, slanting his mouth over mine, his tongue darting in between my lips, opening me to him.
“Hey lovebirds, break it up. I’m trying to run a respectable establishment here.” Mila’s teasing cuts in between us.
Ethan pushes her away without breaking contact with my lips, but my giggle forces me back.
“Sorry, Mila.”
She hands us a paper bag, then shoos us away. “Go. Leave for your romantic day in nature while the rest of us slave away at work.”
Ethan leads me out of the café, with a backwards wave to Mila. We walk to his truck, where he holds the door open for me, then leans in for a chaste kiss once I’m in.
“I’m excited for today.”
I smile. “Same.”
On the drive to the hot springs trail, I tell Ethan about what I figured out last night. About how I’m fully committed to reopening the resort and seeing my Dad’s plan through to completion, no matter how long it takes. He’s silent through it all, holding my hand and staring straight out the front windshield. It’s not exactly the reaction I thought I would get; I figured he would be more encouraging about my idea to barter for supplies and slow down my timeline for reopening. When I bring up the idea of paying rent on the apartment, he scoffs, and his grip tightens around the steering wheel.
