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Pure desperation filled her, and Clara stood on the rebuilt dock and sobbed into the silence. She cried and cried, her chest aching and her throat sending dry, stabbing pains through her head and down into her shoulders.
She looked around for help, and there was none. No one.
Clara was absolutely alone in this venture, on this island, and she could turn in a full circle and only see sky and ocean. She felt terribly insignificant in that moment, and she didn’t want this island to be her life.
She seized onto that thought and used it to propel herself toward the inn. She and Scott had been working tirelessly on it for almost three full months. They’d put every dime of the construction loan into it or into paying the bare minimum of their bills, and Clara could see the improvements.
The rickety half of the inn was gone now. Most of the debris had been removed too. No foul smells came from the interior of the inn, and when she went inside, the grand staircase at the back of the lobby stole her breath.
It had been solidified and fortified, and the rest of the lobby welcomed her in a similar way. The administration part of the inn was ready, with a check-in counter and offices down the hall behind the chest-high counter.
All of the rooms on the first and second floor had been stripped and cleaned. The restaurant spaces had likewise been scrubbed and sanitized, but Clara could not afford appliances. She’d gotten linens donated, but no one had come through with furniture yet. She couldn’t even afford to buy herself a new couch; there was no way she could furnish the thirty-one rooms that stood waiting for beds, dressers, couches, chairs, miniature refrigerators, and more.
So much more, Clara didn’t even know what the “more” was.
“Irons,” she said to herself as she walked over to the check-in counter. “Hangers. Safes.”Oh, my.
She didn’t know what sixty irons cost, but she knew it was more than she had. Unless she took Jennifer’s offer, Clara couldn’t move forward on Friendship Inn.
She went past the counter and through the door. Her office sat at the end of the hall, and the open doorway beckoned to her. She imagined herself this magnificent CEO of a huge company, managing dozens of people and hundreds of moving parts. If she could get Friendship Inn off the ground, that would be who she was.
As she entered her office, her head held high even as the tears on her cheeks cracked, Clara wasn’t sure she was that woman. She paused just inside the office and looked around.
It was nothing special, because Clara couldn’t afford special. She’d used to spend her days picking out curtains and wishing she could replace her perfectly good countertops with something better. Quartz or granite or even bamboo.
Now, she was just so grateful she had a house to live in.
Moving quickly, she strode to the old desk she’d cleaned and repaired herself so she could use it. Her mind shouted thoughts at her, and she pulled open the drawer. It squealed, as usual, but Clara barely heard it.
She yanked out a notebook and picked up a pen.
What’s most important?she scrawled across the top of a clean page.
Her fingers kept moving as her thoughts swirled.
Scott
Lena
Mom
Reuben
Jean
Their new baby
Theo
Eloise
Robin
She paused there, her fingers aching from how hard she’d been holding the pen. She re-read what she’d written, sure that wasn’t her handwriting. It was far too rushed and way too messy.
But it was hers. Her brain vomit. What was most important to her.
Friendship Inn wasn’t on it. The inn wasn’t even in the top ten, because if she’d continued, she’d have written down the names of each woman she’d met and spent time with here in Five Island Cove.
