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“Just enjoying the snow,” I call back, kicking my feet with glee in Matthew’s arms.
“Oh,” Lily says in an exaggerated tone. “Nico and I also enjoyed the snow this morning.”
I laugh into Matthew’s chest. He strolls toward them. “You know, James and I had a lot of fun in the snow last night,” Maya chimes in.
“Alright,” Matthew scolds. “That’s more than I needed to know.”
“I see myToasty Insidenovella gave you all the best ideas. Naming your inn after the grumpy recluse and then having a little fun in the snow?” Lily teases.
“Oh my goodness.” I burst out laughing. “I totally forgot about that. Guess it’s time for a reread.”
“How could you forget about Griffin and his hairy wiener, Comet?”
Matthew quirks an eyebrow at me in curiosity. “It’s the main character’s dachshund,” I explain.
“Do I need to check out this book?”
“There are some things that happen in a hot spring you would enjoy.” I wink. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “We’ll be down in a bit,” I yell to my friends. “We’ve got frostbite to take care of.”
The pair laugh as Matthew carries me over the threshold of The Griffin.
Chapter39
Matthew
Mollyand I are spending half of our nights at The Griffin since the winter storms have been getting worse as we renovate. The other nights we share at home, snuggled up in our bed.
My wife twirls under the giant chandelier in the grand foyer. She has Brave hugged over her shoulder, and Bear paws at her feet, waiting for a turn.
Guess I’m not the only jealous man in the house now.
Life since we’ve been married hasn’t felt real.
I’d never imagined myself as a man of hospitality, but since EcoDroneswill take at least a year of research and development—all of which I’ve outsourced to my team of MIT mentees from Enviroworks, who were eager for new jobs postgraduation—I have free time on my hands.
I also never saw myself as someone who would fall in love again or own a cat.
I suppose that’s the strange thing about getting older: your life blossoms around you, and you just need to sit back and enjoy the blooms while plucking all the weeds that come your way.
“Maybe we can hold our opening day reception in this room.” Molly sets Bear down and strolls over to me. She pulls a pencil and a small notepad out of her back pocket, tapping the eraser on the side of her mouth. Her journal is already halfway full of ideas. “We could build a stage in the corner to host a live band. I’m sure the kids would love to dance around, and with these windows, we won’t even need lighting.”
“In June, the rose garden should be full of blooms. We can fill the rooms with their own bouquets.” I wrap my arms around her thick wool sweater and pull her close.
“Maybe we should ask guests if they’re allergic or what color they want on the intake form,” she says, her eyes bright.
“My wife has the best ideas.” I give her a small kiss, but Molly has other ideas. She pulls on the collar of my shirt, pressing me close.
So achingly sweet.
There are times when her melancholy has her wrapped up in blankets at home, nose in her book, a flash of smile over the bound spine. Then there are times like this, when her delight strums up her life.
She’s been back in therapy for almost two months, working through the ups and downs of the adjustment with her family. Maybe even the grief of losing the person she was always pretending to be.
I know from experience that it’s easy to dive headfirst into a project without taking the time to process everything that’s happened. Plastech would not have been the same without the impact Laura had on my past—it might simply not exist. No grand vision of helping future generations, no technological advancements.
Though I believe that having something of our own is a good thing, a permanence.
“So, out of the twenty-two rooms here, there are five left to design,” Molly chimes, pulling away from me and putting her serious face back on. I have worked with plenty of founders and entrepreneurs, and I must say that Molly’s mind is one of a kind. “I was thinking the one farthest from the stairs could be the Honeymoon Suite. Or maybe we should name it the Fairytale Frolic.”
