Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Thankfully it was empty and clean. I double-checked everything and gave the toilet a test flush to make sure it didn’t explode like the one earlier today. Everything seemed to be in order. The framed black-and-white photo of the same view from this room in 1968 hung in its usual spot over the little table and chairs off to the side of the bed. I traced a finger over it and remembered my grandmother’s story about my father opening the back of the camera and ruining an entire roll of film she’d already taken the color photos with. Instead of splurging on another roll of color film, she used a black-and-white roll to retake all of the same photos of the inn for the scrapbook they kept in the lobby.
This photo had always been her favorite. She’d described the pinks and purples of the sunset in such detail, I wondered why she’d even needed a photo of it in the first place. But now I was relieved to have it, just as I was happy to have every scrap of memory from those years when my father was little and he and my uncles had given my grandparents a run for their money.
The photos and memories were all I had left other than these walls and this beautiful property at the edge of Gannet Bay.
I closed the room back up and returned to the reception desk in the lobby to tell Karlie which room to give James when he got back. Normally I took night duty, but I’d been swapping with Karlie to try and take some of the load off now that she was getting closer to her due date. At the Sea Sprite, she could lie down and snooze on the sofa in the lobby unless a guest needed something. It was much easier on her than working on her feet at the bar.
“A what?” Karlie was asking someone when I walked in.
The man was visibly flustered. I recognized him as the Boston photographer staying here for a week to capture a big family wedding taking place on our famous event lawn by the bluff.
“A h-horse statue?” he stammered, blushing behind his big dark-framed glasses. “I know it’s a weird request, but Mrs. Lovejoy specifically asked—”
I cut in. “Mrs. Lovejoy is a pain in the ass.”
Karlie grinned at me before turning back to the photographer. “He’s right. The Lovejoy family has been coming here for decades for their family photos. They own that big yellow house down the beach, but for some reason the shore in front of their house is where all the seaweed gathers. It drives her crazy they can’t take Larissa’s wedding photos there.”
The guy looked nervously back and forth between Karlie and me. “Okay, but like… will she be mad if I can’t come up with a horse statue…?”
The woman in question must have done a number on this man’s self-confidence because I’d seen him earlier bossing everyone around while they took some photos under a tree. Either that, or my cousin made him nervous for some reason.
I stepped around Karlie and reached into an old red bookcase full of trinkets and mementos guests had gifted us over the years. “Here,” I said, handing him a ceramic donkey painted garishly with Get your ass back to the Cape real soon! “Give her this and tell her it’s the best you can do.”
He huffed out a laugh and seemed to relax. “Will do.” He blinked back at Karlie before turning in a circle like he’d forgotten where the exit was. “Um, thanks… yeah… I’ll… see you all later. Tomorrow probably. Of course. And, thanks…” He spun around in one more circle before pointing a finger gun at the door. “Ha. Right there. Yep. Right there is the doorway. So… I’ll just…” He stopped and took a breath before turning back to Karlie. “Good night, Karlie. Sleep well.”
“Good night, Brantley. Good luck with the Lovejoys.” She waved and gave him a sweet, genuine smile which stopped me in my tracks for a beat.
He blushed crimson red. “You can call me Brant.” And then he damn near concussed himself lurching toward the door and out into the late afternoon.
As soon as he was gone, I lifted an eyebrow at Karlie, and we both burst out laughing.
“Does he know you’re single?” I asked after calming down.
She shot me a look. “As if he’d want a big fat pregger anyway.”
“First of all, you’re gorgeous. Secondly, he looks like he’d be willing to carry that pregnancy for you, so yeah, I’m thinking he’d be okay with it.”
Karlie busied herself straightening other items on the red bookcase to cover the spot I’d emptied with the donkey removal. “I met him this morning, Sawyer. There wasn’t really a chance to tell him about the lying asshole formerly known as my boyfriend and never to be known as this kid’s father. Also, a million months pregnant isn’t really the time to get my flirt on. It’s more like the time to get my hemorrhoid cream on.”