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“Mom doesn’t need to diet.” Jack pulled a face. “She’s gorgeous.”
“Yeah, all our friends are always saying what a hot mom we have,” Liam bragged, making Max laugh.
“Liam!” Jack hissed at him. “Have some freakin’ respect, man.”
“What?” Liam scowled at his brother. “I’m proud of Mom.”
“So am I,” Jack told him. “But I don’t have to speak about her like she’s a cheerleader.”
“Hey, you two.” Max flashed them a warning look, knowing they were bordering on an argument. “What did I say about not stressing Mom out?”
“Sorry,” they both grumbled.
“I’m glad Mom’s okay,” Jack told him.
“Me too,” Liam added. “We were worried about her when Aunt Lorry fetched us and told us Mom was ill.”
“She’s fine,” Max assured them again. “But I’ll keep an eye on her, and when I’m not here, I hope the two of you will as well.”
“Of course,” they answered.
Max smiled, and as he walked back into the house, Steph rushed by him. Her face was gray as she held her stomach, heading for their bedroom. Fear gripped him as he followed her to the bedroom, closing the door behind him as he saw she’d rushed into the bathroom. A few seconds later, his worry grew as he heard her being violently ill.
CHAPTER 3
Themorningairwascrisp, tinged with the invigorating scent of the sea. Shrouded in the embrace of solitude, Steph slipped out of the pool house before Max and the twins stirred from their slumber. With gentle fingers, she affixed a note to the front of the polished, gleaming refrigerator. The kitchen, still bathed in the soft, early light of dawn, held the promise of the day’s first cup of coffee and the quiet anticipation of breakfast conversations.
The note, a silent message to her family, announced her intention to meet with the hotel contractor, a half-truth to make her feel better about avoiding Max. Steph had wanted to play a more active role in the hotel’s renovation. Steph found herself drawn to the process, reveling in the opportunity to contribute her ideas to watch the changes unfold not just in her home but also next door. So, it wasn’t all an excuse to escape a million questions from Max.
Yet, a voice, uninvited but persistent, echoed in the depths of her thoughts, casting shadows of doubt. It taunted her, calling her a coward for avoiding the complexities of her life. An internal debate raged within her, and in a moment of exasperation, Steph couldn’t help but mutter a retort.
“Okay, so I’m not being honest. But I need to sort my head out,” was her whispered rebuke to her inner critic! “This is hard for me.”
With determined steps, Steph moved away from the kitchen and toward her destination—the hotel that stood just a stone’s throw away from Scott House. The journey was short, but the scenery along the way was far from ordinary.
The cobblestone path wound through well-tended gardens, where the riot of colors painted by various blossoms was a feast for the eyes. Tropical blooms intermingled with native flora, and the vivid hues danced harmoniously with the light morning breeze. Their fragrances, a symphony of nature, teased Steph’s senses and lent an air of tranquility to her solitude.
As she approached the hotel, its stately facade came into view. The grand structure was an embodiment of timeless elegance, its architecture marrying past traditions with modern comforts. The renovation project was in full swing. Workers, dressed in paint-splattered overalls and construction helmets, moved with purpose. The rhythmic sounds of hammers and drills intermingled with laughter and voices, filled the air.
The renovation breathed new life into the old, revealing glimpses of the hotel’s grandeur. Steph watched with a satisfied smile, her heart swelling with the promise of rejuvenation. She had always admired the hotel, a silent witness to the passage of time on Marco Island, and now, she was determined to be part of its transformation. And Steph needed to hide from the shock of her news and let it settle before she made any decisions.
As she stepped into the grand foyer, sunlight streamed through the windows, casting intricate patterns on the tiled floor. The lobby, filled with a sense of history, was a place where memories and dreams intertwined. Amidst the workers and scattered tools, the grandeur of the past was being coaxed back to life.
Steph stood in the middle of the noise, determined to be part of this transformation. The challenges in her life were not dissimilar to the renovations, and like the hotel, she too could undergo a renewal if she dared to confront her fears.
“Steph?” Lorry’s eyes widened when she saw her sister, startling Steph. “This is a bit early for you, isn’t it?”
“No,” Steph denied, shaking her head. “I’ve come in earlier a lot of times.”
“Yes, but that wasn’t the day after you collapsed and ended up in the doctor’s office,” Lorry reminded her.
“I’m fine,” Steph assured her.
“Ah!” Lorry nodded knowingly. “You escaped early to avoid being detained by your husband and sons.”
“No!” Steph frowned and shook her head. “I wanted to be here when the architect got here.”
“Don’t remind mehe’scoming here today,” Lorry huffed. “The man is insufferable.”
