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Chapter Twenty-Nine
Marissa
It’s been nearly two weeks since Rhenn left, and I haven’t heard a peep out of him. Not that I expected to, mind you. That was the arrangement, right? Yet, a part of me (the part that controls my heart) had hoped maybe, just maybe, he’d reach out to me. That maybe he’d find he is missing me as much as I miss him.
No such luck.
The first guests seem to be enjoying themselves. We’re filled to capacity on our first official weekend back in business. I’ve been working like crazy in the kitchen, preparing some of my favorite comfort food meals, partially for them, but the other part for me. They’re easy to make and require no brainpower. Considering I’m still not sleeping well, that’s definitely a plus.
“Marissa, I’m cooking dinner tonight,” Mom states as she enters the kitchen.
“What? Why? I’ve already started the prep for the chicken and noodles. The rolls are rising on the counter and the chocolate éclairs in the fridge. I don’t mind,” I tell her, cutting the last bit of homemade dough into strips.
“I can take it from here,” she says breezily, coming over and practically taking the knife from my hand. “Why don’t you enjoy a night off? You’ve been working crazy hours for the last several weeks. Everything is going well, so there’s no reason for us both to work this evening.”
She’s right, everything is going well. Once the construction phase was complete, the building inspector found no issues with the house and granted us immediate occupancy. After the walls were freshly painted, new bedding and towels placed in all of the rooms, and the fridge and freezers restocked, we were ready to reopen the Grayson Bed and Breakfast. Our first guests arrived last night, and we have one more couple due in the morning.
“I don’t mind, Mom. Why don’t you take the night off? You were the one who finished painting the downstairs,” I offer, reaching for the knife and heading to the dishwasher.
“I insist. Plus, I’m taking next weekend off to go visit the family in Jupiter Bay.”
Ahh, yes. The Fourth of July weekend trip to meet the rest of the family. I’m not going, of course, even though Mom seems to think it’ll be okay if I do. She’s already arranged for Free and Mrs. Gillenwater to cover the B&B for the weekend, but I don’t have the heart to tell her I just don’t want to go. Seeing my family? Yes. Seeing Rhenn? Not yet.
“Mom,” I start to argue, but she instantly cuts me off.
“Marissa,” she says in a mocking tone.
“You’re mean,” I grumble, making her laugh.
“I’m not mean. I just care about the health of my daughter. She’s been working herself to the bone lately, and I want her to relax. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much you’ve been putting yourself into your work in hopes that you’ll forget about him for just a little while.” My eyes fly to hers. “I’ve been there, baby girl. I know all about working hard to escape memories.” Her eyes flash with the hurt and sadness she experienced at the hands of our father.
“Anyway, enough of that. All I’m saying is I know what you’re going through, and eventually, the pain starts to dull. The memories will start to fade and be replaced with new ones.”
The thought of slowly forgetting about Rhenn makes the pain that much more intense. I couldn’t imagine closing my eyes and not seeing his vivid smile.
“Tonight, you’re off duty. I’ll cover breakfast in the morning and lunch too. Hell, just take the weekend. See you Monday morning,” Mom says, making a shooing motion with her hands.
My mouth drops open. “What? You want me to take the rest of today and all of tomorrow off? Are you mad? Did you hit your head? Do you have a fever?” I ask, reaching for her forehead. “I’m calling Samuel!”
“Knock it off,” she insists, batting away my hand. “I’m fine. I just want you to relax. Is that so bad for a mother to want to take care of her daughter?” Then she bats those doe eyes and I know she’s got me.
“No,” I grumble.
“Great!” she rejoices, pushing me out of the way and continuing to work on the dinner I was preparing. “Go. Enjoy.”
I slowly turn and walk to the door, glancing over my shoulder to see if aliens have taken over her brain. She’s definitely acting weird, but it’s not like I can argue with her further. I mean, I can, but something tells me it will be pointless.
“Oh, Marissa? Before you go, will you take the stack of towels in the laundry room to room five?”
“Room five? I thought that couple wasn’t coming until morning?”
“Early arrival.” She doesn’t look up, just keeps cutting the few remaining noodles until the dough is all finished.
“Of course,” I mumble, heading into the laundry room to grab the stack of dark blue towels waiting to be delivered to room five. Stupid blue towel. Why does it feel like this color is mocking me?
I head up the stairs and down the hall until I’m standing before the closed door. This one is my favorite room, with its breathtaking views of the ocean. Knocking, I hear a distant, hoarse response. “Come in.”
“Fresh towels, sir,” I say as I gently push open the door, careful not to disturb the couple within. No one appears to be in the room, but the bathroom light is on and I can hear movement. I head over to the massive bed and set the fresh linens down on the bedspread. Since our guest is in the bathroom, I’ll leave them for the guests here. “Let us know if you need anything else,” I holler as I make my way toward the door.
