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“Why didn’t you say anything?” Charlotte said, distressed by Gran’s apparent lack of concern. Then she remembered how many years Gran had worked at the Inn and understood her burnout.
“I remember when we were kids how people would make dinner arrangements here for special occasions,” said Livy. “I used to hang out in the kitchen with the crew. That’s when I knew I wanted a career in food production. I think we can take advantage of locals and visitors interested in small dining groups to improve visibility for the Inn.”
Gran put a hand to her chest and exhaled. “You darlings. I think we might be able to carry off a renewal of the business with your help. I know your parents would ask me to sell it, but the Inn is how I’ve survived all these years. Your grandfather was a gambler. Something I didn’t realize until after he died and left me with little means to survive on my own. That’s when I had the idea for the Inn. And I started with only a few bedrooms in the house to rent out. After I discovered his insurance policies, that money and John’s made it possible for us to build the Inn. We’ve had to make the business succeed in order for us to be able to stay here.”
“And Johnnie has helped from the beginning,” commented Charlotte.
“Oh, yes. He needed something to do and was willing to become a business partner after he closed down his restaurant.” She shook her head. “If it weren’t for him, I would’ve been forced to give up the idea. That’s why it’s so important to me that he has the vacation he’s dreamed of. Running an Inn means working 24/7.”
Charlotte studied her grandmother. She was wearing a green T-shirt that read “Allergic to B. S.” Somehow it seemed appropriate. This was a time for them to come together and plan for the future. She gazed at her cousins. Could they work together?
Time would tell.
