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Her friend rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“The only reason I’m not getting behind the camera this time is because Serenity Harper asked for me specifically.”
“What?” Bridget’s face lit up, and her normal chipper self was back. “Serenity Harper? She’s like?—”
“The biggest star there is?” Jo touched Bridget’s shoulder. “Which means Delia might actually keep her promise this time.”
The doubt crept back into Bridget’s face. “Right.”
Jo let her head drop to the side. “I mean it.”
“If she doesn’t, you need to move on. You’re too talented to just stay here. Your photographs are gorgeous.”
Shrugging, Jo lifted her head. “Maybe.”
“Not maybe. They are.” Bridget looked toward Delia’s office, and her eyes widened. “Oh, I need to get.”
“Me, too. I’ll call you later.”
Bridget went left, while Jo went right.
“All right. Wishing Well. I can do this.” She could. She’d done things much harder. Maybe this time, she’d wish to never return before she left again. She snorted and smirked. “Yeah.” Or perhaps that was a bad idea. She’d wished for love and got Craig—a guy who only cared about what he wanted. On second thought, maybe she’d avoid that pit of despair altogether.
After a long day that started with a redeye before dawn, Jo stopped her rental car in front of the massive two-story house she’d called home until she left for college in New York. Most called it the Stewart Mansion because it was the largest residence in Wishing Well, along with the largest amount of acreage, some twenty acres that butted up to a small river.
It had been in her family for six generations, and it had started life as a simple farm. Shortly after being built, her ancestors turned it into a hotel of sorts and added to it over the years, although you couldn’t tell that by looking at it.
After Jo’s grandpa passed away, Jo’s grandma closed off everything except the three-bedroom, one-bath owner’s suite. More than once people had offered to buy it, but with its history, she wasn’t selling.
At one point, Jo had toyed with turning it into a bed and breakfast. Countless nights, she and her grandma had talked long into the night about restoring it. What they wanted to do to the rooms, the kitchen, the dining area for guests, and a million other details, she couldn’t remember right then why she’d abandoned the idea, but… she sighed. That was the past.
Scanning the house, memories flooded her mind. Some tinged with sadness. Some were etched with joy, laughter, and happiness that brought a smile to her face. None of which she’d change.
As Jo cut the car’s engine, the screen door swung open, and Jo’s Grandma, Charlie Stewart, was on the front porch, arms open wide, waiting for her.
“Grandma!” she called as soon as she stepped out of the car, sprinting the distance and up the steps, letting her grandma gather her into a hug.
She’d been more like a mom than a grandma. Shortly after Jo turned thirteen, her mom dropped her off and never returned. Grandma Charlie had taken her in, loved her, and dealt with a bratty, angry teenager. Not that Jo was trying to be angry or bratty, but she’d blamed herself for her mom leaving. More than once, she’d taken that frustration out on her innocent grandma. Later, she’d realized it was probably for the best. Her mom… well, that was a memory lane she didn’t want to walk down at the moment.
Her grandma rocked her side to side. “Oh, it is so good to see you! I’ve missed you so much!”
“I’ve missed you too, Grandma.” Jo had visited from time to time, but with her busy schedule, it wasn’t nearly as often as it should have been.
She leaned back, patting Jo’s cheek, then holding her out by the shoulders. “Just look at you. More gorgeous than ever. And you cut your hair.”
A light touch of her fingers on the tips of her dirty blonde not-quite shoulder-length hair. “It was time for a change.”
“Well, I think it looks great. Much more fitting for your cute, fun personality.”
“You’re my grandma. It’s required you say that.”
“I am not. I’m being honest.” She grinned and pulled her into a second hug. “Honey, I’m so glad you’re home. It’s been far too long.”
Jo relished the embrace like it was better than the first. She’d hated the idea of returning and now that she was here, she wished she hadn’t stayed away so long. She’d missed her grandma. “I know. I’m sorry.” More than her grandma knew, but she’d let work and life pull her away. Before she went back to New York, she would schedule a call with her grandma at least once a week, if not twice.
They released each other, and Charlie opened the screen door. “No need to say you’re sorry. You’re busy, and I understand that.” She waved for Jo to follow. “I’ve got lunch ready.”
“Please tell me it’s your chicken pot pie.” Her mouth salivated at the thought. Flakey-buttery-crust deliciousness that put all other comfort foods to shame.
