“Not really,” he confessed. “There was just so much information.”
As they walked, Emily studied his face. He looked stressed and she wondered which bit of the appointment specifically had worried him the most. Her age-related health concerns? Her possibly elevated risk of postnatal depression? Or just the fact that he hadn’t committed every single one of the doctor’s words to memory?
“It’s all in the pamphlet,” she reassured him. “We can read it over and over again. Every night before bed, if you want.”
She laughed, trying to lighten the mood. Though Daniel nodded, he still looked tense, his gaze somewhat far away. Emily wanted to ask him what was going through his mind, to find out what the issue was for certain, but he seemed to have shut down.
She felt her own excitement begin to fade away as a result. Daniel’s attitude seemed to be becoming more at odds with her own. She couldn’t see even the smallest flicker of excitement in his eyes. It was just concern, worry, and stress that she saw in his expression.
They got into the truck and drove home in silence.
CHAPTER THREE
Doctor Arkwright’s advice for Emily to stay off her feet and reduce her stress levels to the bare minimum went immediately out the window, because Memorial Day weekend arrived all too soon and the inn was packed to the rafters.
Emily hurried down the stairs into the foyer, where guests were milling about in groups. The inn was looking beautiful thanks to Chantelle’s decorations. She’d filled the place with flags. Posters for the town parade adorned every wall. It looked set to be the best event yet. Mayor Hansen had really gone above and beyond this year, with an antique fire truck procession, the marching band from the high school, and a twenty-one-gun salute at the end. Emily was glad he’d organized such a great commemoration for the men and women who’d given their lives for the country’s freedom.
Lois and Marnie were on the front desk, both looking rushed off their feet as they took calls and answered guest queries. Ever since Bryony’s redesign of the website had led to the inn being booked for the entire summer, Emily had had to shuffle things around. Serena wanted less work so she could focus more on her degree, so Emily had promoted Marnie from maid to front of house. Then she’d hired the Magic Elves cleaning company that Amy had sourced for the wedding to fill the void left by Marnie, and had gone on to employ an extra pair of hands in the form of a porter, a young man named Trent, whose role was to carry bags upstairs for the guests on check in. Despite the hecticness, it looked like the new system was working well. For now, at least.
Emily caught up with Bryony in the guest lounge. Her laptop was resting on her knees, a pile of half drunk cups of coffee stacked on the coffee table before her. Usually there were only ever one or two people in the guest lounge, but today every single table and couch was occupied with people drinking coffee and juice, reading papers, studying maps, and planning their days out.
“I know I say this every time I see you,” Emily said to Bryony as she sat beside her, “but seriously, thank you so much for everything you’ve done for the inn. I’ve never seen it like this.”
Bryony smiled. “No problem. I just can’t wait until you get all the renovation work done for the expansion. It’ll give me a whole load of new coding to do. New forms. New pages.” Her eyes glittered with excitement.
“You really love this stuff, don’t you?” Emily said, feeling baffled herself. She’d worked in marketing for years back in New York City and hated it now with every fiber of her being.
Bryony wiggled her eyebrows. “I love it. Plus, I get to see all the mysterious guests who book in. Look at this one.” She swiveled her laptop around to show Emily the accommodation spreadsheet which was automatically populated by website bookings through the magic wizardry of computer code. “The carriage house has been booked out by Mr. X. I’m hoping he’s another Roman Westbrook.”
Emily raised her eyebrows, excited also. “Or a James Bond villain.”
Just then, a group of three men walked into the inn. They were all wearing beige slacks and polo shirts, and had varying shades of gray hair. Emily noticed then that each had a large roll of paper under their arms and realized that they weren’t some kind of traveling barbershop quartet but the architects from Erik & Sons, with their initial sketches for renovating Trevor’s house.
She and Daniel had approached a local family firm, hoping they’d have a more sympathetic approach. As she leaped up now and walked toward them, she realized by their eerily similar appearances that they were the “& Sons” contingent. She shook each of their hands, blinking, feeling like she was looking at the same person three times over.
“We’re triplets,” the man with the lightest gray hair explained. “I’m Wayne. This is Cain. And that’s Shane, the youngest by five minutes.”
“My chances of remembering whose name belongs to who are more or less zero,” Emily confessed.
“We don’t mind,” Wayne Erik continued. “We’ve had fifty-five years of being confused with each other. If we had a problem with it, we probably wouldn’t dress the same.”
He grinned, indicating their matching Erik & Sons navy blue polo shirts.
“Please,” Emily said, “let us go and find somewhere quiet where we can spread these out. I know we’re meeting for a tour of the house later today, but I’m so happy to take a look at these now.”
She led them from the bustling foyer and into the empty dining room, whereby the Erik triplets unrolled their sketches onto the large walnut table.
Emily peered down at the designs, one scroll per floor of the house. The plans looked phenomenal, grand and rather exciting. But seeing Trevor’s house pared down to lines and measurements on pieces of paper felt so odd to her, so unpleasant and final. She felt herself getting choked up.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered, as tears suddenly sprung into her eyes. “The house belonged to my late friend. I still haven’t gotten my head around the fact he’s gone.”
“It was Trevor Mann’s house, wasn’t it?” Wayne asked, softly.
“Yes,” Emily said, dabbing her tears with her shirt sleeve. “Did you know him?”
“Of course,” Cain confirmed. “Mr. Mann was on the zoning board so we had a lot of contact with him. He was quite a guy.”
Emily could tell from the way he said it that he was being polite about the fact that Trevor was a difficult person to get along with.
“He was a curmudgeonly old so-and-so, I know,” Emily said with a wistful smile. “He hated me at first. But we were great friends by the end.”
The Erik brothers look at her kindly.
“We’ll leave the plans with you,” Wayne explained. “Then we’ll talk more when we go through the house later.”
“Thank you,” Emily said, glad that she and Daniel had chosen to go with this firm. That they were local and knew Trevor Mann was immensely reassuring. But something about Wayne Erik’s kindness made her tears come more readily. She flushed with embarrassment as she found herself suddenly unable to stop them streaming down her cheeks.
“I’m also pregnant,” she confessed with a shy giggle. “The hormones are making me crazy.”
The Erik triplets reassured her that she had nothing to apologize for. They left the plans with her so she and Daniel could look over them at a less hormonal moment and Emily told them she’d see them later that day.
Just then Chantelle ran into the room. Yvonne must have just dropped her home following her sleep-over with Bailey.
“Mommy!” she cried, running toward Emily and throwing her arms around her neck. She bestowed kisses onto her cheeks. “Wait, why are you crying?” she asked, moving away.
Emily