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The old lady gazed at me for a long moment. I had the idea that my appearance might just have shaken her into some sensibility again, but she suddenly scowled.
"Where's my tea? When are you bringing me my tea?" she demanded.
"She thinks you're one of the kitchen staff," Mrs. Oaks whispered.
"Oh. It's coming, Mrs. Cutler. It's just getting hot."
"I don't want it too hot."
"No," I said. "It'll cool down by the time it gets to you."
"She hardly has a clear moment anymore," Mrs. Oaks said, wagging her head sadly. "Old age. It's the one disease you don't want to end, but then again . . ."
"I understand."
"Anyway, welcome to your new home, Mrs. Cutler," Mrs. Oaks said.
"Thank you. I'll see you again, Mother Cutler," I said to the shriveled old woman who was nearly a ghost of herself. She shook her head.
"Send someone up here to dust," she ordered.
"Right away," I said and stepped out. I looked over the rest of the corridor and returned to our room just as Bill had gotten two grounds workers to carry up all our things.
"Before you unpack everything, I'll show you around the hotel and introduce you to everyone," Bill said. He took my hand and led me downstairs. We passed through the long corridor and came out by the kitchen. The aromas of Nussbaum's good cooking preceded our arrival. The chef looked up from his preparations as we entered.
"This is the new Mrs. Cutler, Nussbaum," Bill said. "She's a gourmet chef from a rich Southern plantation, so watch yourself."
Nussbaum, a dark-skinned man with blue eyes and dark brown hair, gazed at me suspiciously. He was only an inch or so taller than I was, but he looked formidable and self-assured.
"I'm no cook, Mr. Nussbaum, and everything you're making smells delicious," I said quickly. His smile began in his eyes and then trembled down to his lips.
"Here, try my potato soup," he said, and offered me a spoonful.
"Wonderful," I said, and Nussbaum beamed. Bill laughed, but when he and I left the kitchen, I pulled him aside immediately.
"If you want me to get along with everyone, don't make me sound as stuck-up and as arrogant as you are," I snapped.
"All right, all right," he said, holding up his hands. He tried to joke about it, but after that, he did behave and treat me with respect in front of the other employees. I met some of the guests, too, and then spoke with the head waiter in the dining room.
In the weeks and months that followed, I found my own niche, created my own responsibilities, still clinging to the belief that I should go with the wind and bend instead of break. I told myself that if I had to live here and be a hotel man's wife, I would be the best hotel man's wife on the Virginia coast. I devoted myself to it.
I discovered that the guests appeared to like it more when Bill and I ate with them and greeted them personally. Sometimes, Bill wasn't there in time; he was still off doing some chore or another in Virginia Beach or Richmond. But the guests appreciated being greeted at dinner. I began to do it at breakfast as well, and most were both surprised and pleased to see me there in the doorway waiting for them, remembering their names. I made it a point to recall their special occasions, too: their birthdays, christenings, and anniversaries. I marked them down in my calendar and made sure to send them cards. I also sent our guests little notes of thanks for their visits.
In time, I noticed many little things that needed improvement: things that could be done to make service faster and more efficient. I was also unhappy with the way the hotel was cleaned and quickly made some changes, the most important one being appointing someone to oversee the maintenance of the building.
My life at Cutler's Cove proved more enjoyable, more exciting and more interesting than I had ever imagined it could be. It seemed I had truly found a place to be, a reason to be. Vera's words of advice just before my wedding to Bill Cutler also proved prophetic. I was able to make enough changes in Bill to make our marriage tolerable. He didn't abuse me or ridicule me. He was satisfied with what I was doing to make the hotel more successful. I knew he was off seeing other women from time to time, but I didn't care. Keeping myself from becoming unhappy meant compromises on my part, but they were compromises I was willing to make, for in time, I did fall in love—not with Bill, but with Cutler's Cove.
Bill didn't oppose anything I suggested, even when some of the suggestions meant spending more money. As the months went by and I assumed more and more of what had been his duties and responsibilities, he seemed more and more pleased. It didn't take a genius to realize his interest in the hotel wasn't as intense as he pretended. Whenever he could find an excuse for one of his so-called business trips, he was off, sometimes not returning for days and days. Gradually, the staff of the hotel began to depend on me more and more to make decisions and solve problems. Before the end of my first year as the new mistress of Cutler's Cove, the first words out of a member of the staff who had a question that needed an answer were, "Ask Mrs. Cutler."
A little more than a year after my arrival, I had an office made for myself. Bill was both amused and impressed by all this, but six months later, when I suggested we think about expanding the hotel and building an additional wing, he put up an argument.
"Making sure the linen is kept clean and the dishes are washed properly is one thing, Lillian. I can even understand making someone responsible for all that and giving him a little more money a week, but adding on another twenty-five rooms, expanding the dining room and building a swimming pool? No way. I don't know what sort of impression I gave you when we first got married, but I don't have that kind of money, even with my success gambling."
"We don't need to have that kind of money immediately, Bill. I've been talking to the banks here. There's one that's eager to give us a mortgage."
"A mortgage?" He started to laugh. "What do you know about mortgages?"
"I was always a good math student. You've seen the way I've handled our accounts. It was something I did for Papa. Business work just comes naturally to me, I guess," I said. "Although, pretty soon, we're going to need a business manager on staff, too."
