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Ophelia clenched her hands. “We saw how welcoming Isabelle is.”
I knew she was talking about the kiss. My cheeks burned, like my arms, which were on fire from carrying the heavy suitcase. Maybe designer clothes weighed more. And the Mimi thing wasn’t my fault. My mom had practically begged the kids to call her that. Besides, Rory was angling hard for the PlayStation, and he was no dummy. He knew the Mimi and Papa card could pay off big-time.
“Yes, she is.” Patrick didn’t help the situation and planted a kiss on my lips as we stood on the stairs.
“They do that a lot.” Rory twisted his features but laughed.
“Any chance I can get.” Patrick smiled at his mother.
Great. Just great. They probably thought I was a horrible influence on their grandchildren now.
Ophelia turned and headed down the hall.
I stayed back for a moment on the stairs. “Why did you say that?” I whispered.
“Darling, don’t worry. They’re just wary. Nina,” he gritted out, “tainted us all. But I have no doubt you will win them over in a spectacular fashion.”
“You may be overestimating my abilities.”
“Never.” He kissed me one more time.
“You probably should stop doing that,” I hated to say. Like honestly, I abhorred the thought.
“Not a chance.” He kissed me again.
I supposed that was good news. But at this rate, his parents were probably going to warn him to run far away from me.
“Fine,” I breathed out, heaving the suitcase the rest of the way up the stairs.
Ophelia and Marcus carefully studied the place as we walked to the end of the hall where the Daisy and George room was located.
“You’ve updated the place,” Ophelia commented. “What are these name plaques on the doors?”
I couldn’t tell if it annoyed her that we’d renovated. “Each room is named and decorated for our favorite literary and movie couples. We thought it went along well with ‘Valentine Inn.’”
“Clever,” Marcus said, dryly.
I would take it, especially since Ophelia continued to say nothing—but I knew so much was going on in that beautiful head of hers. Seriously, how did she look so good at seventy-two? Maybe it was all the traveling around the world she and Marcus did now. I knew from Patrick that his parents were retired and Patrick’s younger brother, Thomas, ran the practice now. Patrick had stepped out of that role to move here. I’d asked him if he was going to miss being in the operating room. His response: “My life’s work is here with you and my children.”
And that right there is why I was head over heels in love with him.
We finally made it to their room. Ophelia stopped and ran her well-manicured hands over the names of George and Daisy. “We were very sorry to hear about Daisy. How is George?” It was the nicest thing she had said to me so far.
“He’s doing well. He’s looking forward to seeing you again.”
She smiled—like an actual smile—showing off what had to be veneers. “He is a dear man.”
“That he is.” Meddling, but dear.
“Come inside, Nana.” Bridgette could hardly contain her excitement.
Rory opened the door to reveal the winter wonderland the kids and I had created yesterday. And I wondered why I was exhausted.
“Look what we did.” Bridgette waved her hand out, showcasing the pine boughs intertwined with lights and berries that wrapped around the four-poster bed, made up in a white comforter with red-and-white checkered pillows. I wouldn’t be mentioning that one of the most famous men in the world had slept in said bed, and procreated there. For some that might be a selling point, but I doubted it was the case with the doctor Abbotts.
A large Christmas tree stood near the fireplace, decorated to match the bedding and decor. We had even hung stockings on the mantel withNanaandPopswritten on them. My mom had helped Bridgette and Rory with that.
Other than that, we hadn’t renovated the room much. I’d let Charlotte dictate what was done to the suite, since it meant so much to her. After all, this place had changed her life.
