Thomas Kinkade: The Inn at Angel Island

We’ ll see how it goes? What was there to see? The answer got under Liza’s skin. How blunt did she need to be? Did she have to tell Claire that once they sold the place, she would be out of a job?

Unless someone came in and wanted to keep running the inn and kept Claire on. That was possible of course. Maybe that’s what she was hoping and hinting at? It was extremely unlikely considering the condition of the place. Even Claire North must realize that, Liza reasoned.

“There really is no question,” Liza told her. “The agent we spoke to already has a few clients lined up to see the property. It could happen quickly.”

Claire didn’t answer. But Liza still wasn’t sure that her point had come across.

She’s been here a long time, and my aunt’s death was a blow. She must be in denial about having to leave, Liza realized.

I won’t say anything more, she decided. Not tonight. Maybe after Peter comes, we’ ll talk to her again and offer her some compensation or a gift.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?” Claire asked finally.

“That’s it, I guess.”

Liza rubbed her eyes. This first evening was not going at all the way she had planned. She had imagined meeting Claire and really being able to talk with her, asking questions about Elizabeth ’s last days. But you had to feel comfortable with someone for that kind of conversation, and Liza had a feeling that she had just ruined any possibility for that kind of ease. Instead, she was sitting in this cold, damp kitchen feeling awkward. And she was fairly certain that in two weeks’ time, she would leave here without ever having asked those questions.

It was her own fault. She shouldn’t have to ask a stranger about her aunt. She should have just taken a few days off from work and come out here to visit once she knew Elizabeth was sick.

But it hadn’t seemed that serious. And there always seemed to be some crisis in the office that she couldn’t abandon. And then her marriage had blown up, right in her face. Like a balloon that looked so pretty and harmless one minute, then shocked you with a big bang.

And she was still picking up the pieces of that mess.

Elizabeth had promised it wasn’t serious and she would be better by the time spring came. That’s what her aunt had told her. But Elizabeth must have known something. She just didn’t want to be a bother. Liza should have realized.

Liza suddenly felt she might cry. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose.

“I think I’ll have some more tea. I must be coming down with something.” She stood up and carried her plate to the sink, then ran some water and filled the tea kettle. “Can I make some more for you, Claire?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine.”

Liza set the kettle on the stove and sat down again at the table. She felt Claire gazing at her but didn’t dare look up to meet her eyes.

“It must be hard for you, coming back here after all this time,” Claire said quietly.

Liza nodded. “It is hard,” she admitted.

“I would like to help you, Liza. Any way I can. Just let me know whatever it is you’d like me to do. I promised your aunt Elizabeth that I would. So you must let me,” Claire added, as if there were some argument.

“Thank you… I appreciate that. I’m going to need your help sorting this place out,” Liza said honestly.

Claire smiled mildly and nodded at her, looking pleased that they had come to this agreement. “If you don’t mind me saying, you ought to get a good night’s sleep. Things might look a little bit better tomorrow.” She rose from the table, her movements economical and surprisingly graceful. “If there’s nothing else you need, I’ll head on home. I made up the room on the second floor for you. Third room down on the right.”

The third room down? Liza wasn’t sure if she remembered correctly after all this time, but she was pretty sure that had always been her favorite room in the whole inn.

She remembered it with sky blue walls and white curtains, and wondered if the decor had changed in all this time. It had a big bay window with an ocean view and a padded window seat.

It was not the room she used to stay in, though. It was always reserved for guests. Though she did sometimes sneak in, when it was vacated, and stretch out on the bed and pretend it was her room. Her aunt would laugh and never got mad at her.

Odd that Claire had picked that room out of so many, Liza thought. Maybe she thought Liza would enjoy the view. But all the rooms on that side of the building had good views.

“Do you know the room?” Claire’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Does it suit you?”

“Sounds fine.” Liza was almost tempted to ask Claire how she had made that choice.

Then the kettle whistled. Liza stood up and shut off the flame, then fixed herself more tea. Claire walked into the foyer and put on a thick parka and gloves, definitely dressing for protection from the elements, not fashion.

She briefly waved to Liza from the front door. “Good night, Liza. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Liza waved back and watched her step out the door. “Good night, Claire.”

The heavy door closed, and Liza felt a sudden stunning silence close in around her. She sipped her tea, conscious of the creaking sounds in the walls and of the wind rattling the windows.

Had she ever been totally alone here? She wasn’t sure about that. She certainly had never spent an entire night alone in the inn. It was a bit… unsettling. Especially since she’d been away from the place for so long. It was familiar, yet strange.

Liza finished her tea, then went out to her SUV and brought in the rest of her bags. She carried the essentials upstairs and soon found her room. Claire had turned on a small lamp that stood on a table near the bay window.

The room looked cozy and warm, still decorated in the same blue and white color scheme, though the paint, curtains, and quilt had definitely been updated since Liza’s childhood summers.

Liza put down her bags and gazed around. The room looked the same as the rest of the house-clean but worn out, in need of fresh paint and wallpaper, new rugs and furnishings. It would be a project to update this place, especially at the cost of things these days. Liza couldn’t imagine taking it on and wondered what daring soul would. But there were people out there dying to run a bed-and-breakfast, who were saving their money and taking courses on just how it should be done. People who would see this house as a great opportunity, not the broken-down burden Liza saw.

She sat on the bed, giving a quick test to the bounce, then immediately pulled out her BlackBerry to check messages. There were several voice mails and half a dozen new e-mails. The e-mails were all from the office.

She checked the phone messages first. Her brother’s voice came on the line. “Liza, it’s me, Peter. I’m sorry, but I can’t leave Tucson tomorrow. Something’s come up. I’m going to be stuck here a few more days. Sorry, but I’ll explain when we talk. Call me when you can.”

Liza sat back on the bed. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She needed Peter here to figure things out with her, but obviously, she would have to start without him.

The next message was from the real estate agent Liza had been speaking with, Fran Tulley at Bowman Realty. Her voice was cheerful, as usual. “Just checking in, Liza. I have you down for a meeting tomorrow at the inn at twelve. Call me if there’s any change. I have some possible clients lined up who want to see the place. But let’s talk first.”

Another more familiar phone number came up, and Liza almost deleted the message without listening. Then at the last second, she couldn’t resist.

“It’s me, Liza,” her ex-husband, Jeff, said. “I remembered that you were going out to the island tonight, and I hope you made it okay in the rain. I know it’s got to be a rough trip for you. I hope you’re not alone out there.”