“You can drop the lawyer shtick.” He did it intentionally, to remind her again that she’d left law school while he’d sailed through on his way to a lucrative career that afforded him expensive, albeit attractive, haircuts and a silver Mercedes. He probably ran in the same legal circles as Foster Pardee, the man who’d used her. Her gut tightened. “I have as much right to be here as you do,” she couldn’t help adding.
“I didn’t say otherwise.”
“No, you wouldn’t actually have the guts to say it to my face, would you?” she snapped, heart slamming into her ribs. “Back in high school you made sure everybody knew my family and I didn’t belong in Tumbledown.”
His eyes flashed. “I didn’t need to tell them. They all knew once your mother...” His words died away as a look of horror flickered in his brown eyes. “I didn’t mean that.”
She tried to get a breath in past the pain in her chest. “Oh, I think we both know exactly what you meant.”
He looked down at the ground, and she heard him expel a breath through his teeth. “Your father tried to ruin my family. I had a right to be angry.”
“He was doing his job,” Rosa said.
“And I was doing mine, defending my father.”
She glared. “By humiliating his enemy’s daughter.”
Pike started to answer, then closed his mouth and fixed his gaze on a spot somewhere over their heads.
Rosa’s skin felt hot, as if she’d swallowed some incendiary drink that burned past her heart deep down into her stomach. “Maybe,” she managed, “we should keep our families out of this.”
“Excellent idea,” he barked.
A man in his mid-forties sauntered into the yard sporting a long ponytail draped over his shoulder and carrying a large wicker basket.
“Hello, Rocky,” Rosa said. He was an ever-present fixture at the inn for a long as Rosa could remember. Rosa had lived with Bitsy until she turned twenty, her brother leaving the year before. Had it really been sixteen long years since she’d moved away from Tumbledown? Her visits to Aunt Bitsy had become less and less frequent the more drama and stress filled her life.
Rocky was a veteran of the early days of the Persian Gulf War. He was a quiet man, and he could get anything to grow. Hydrangeas in a kaleidoscope of colors, daylilies, azaleas, spring bulbs.
Rocky lowered the basket to the ground while he dredged a stick of gum from his pocket. Then he flashed Rosa a peace sign, picked up the basket and continued toward the coop.
Rocky’s silent greeting was not a shock, at any rate. And she couldn’t argue that he’d been a loyal helper to Bitsy, especially after Leopold’s death.
“Look out for the loose board,” Pike called after him. Pike’s attention swiveled back to Rosa. “So, why are you here?”
“We’re redecorating the inn for Bitsy.”
Pike groaned and closed his eyes for a moment. “Oh, man. You two are the Dollars and Sense outfit that’s competing in the contest? I thought Bitsy changed her mind about all that.”
“Yes, Cy and I happen to be the owners of Dollars and Sense, and we won the chance to participate. Furthermore, when we’re finished, the Pelican will be the hottest destination in Tumbledown. We’re going to turn this place around.”
His eyes widened. “You can’t do that.”
It was her turn to gape. “And why not?”
“Because the inn is...”
A crash came from the chicken coop, followed by an all-out cacophony of squawks and clucking. Puffs of feathers floated out of the opening.
“I’ve gotta go help Rocky.” He turned and jogged away.
“But why can’t we remodel, Pike?” She called after him. “Pike?”
Bending his tall frame, he disappeared into the clucking chaos.
Rosa did some deep breathing to try to keep her emotions in check. Pike’s presence brought up all the angst she’d left behind years before. He was her high school enemy and, worse yet, a lawyer. She wondered if it had been a mistake to come back to Tumbledown.
At the moment the only thing she knew for sure was that she did not want to have another confrontation with Pike until she had better control of what came out of her mouth. She headed back inside the inn, confusion and determination warring inside her.
Bitsy stood with a cowed expression, hands folded. She gave Rosa the “little girl lost” look that Rosa had seen her employ a number of times on susceptible individuals. “How much trouble am I in, exactly?”
Rosa sighed. “I know he’s your nephew and you are required to love him. You’re biologically related and all.”
“And I love you, too, Rosa, and I’m your aunt, biology or not.”
Rosa blinked hard, irritated to find tears gathering. “You should have told me he was here.”
“I know, but I thought you might not come, and this is the chance of a lifetime, isn’t it?”
Rosa nodded.
“And you forgive me for not telling you everything, right?” Bitsy moved close and put her smooth fingertips under Rosa’s chin, lifting gently. “Please tell me you can forgive me.”
Like a little girl, Rosa found she could only answer by throwing herself into Bitsy’s arms and snuffling against her shoulder, clinging to her until Cy ambled into the room, stopping uncertainly in the doorway.
Bitsy released Rosa and rubbed her hands together. “Tell you what. Why don’t you two put your bags up in the attic? It isn’t included in the contest.”
Cy nodded, impressed. “You know a lot about the details.”
“One hears things,” Bitsy said. “Now up to the attic with you.”
“It’s not necessary,” Rosa said, thinking she would rather have a sandpaper facial than stay in a place where she was likely to run into Pike. “We can easily find a hotel.”
Bitsy’s lip twitched. “If you so much as suggest a hotel again, I’ll be forced to puncture your tires.”
Rosa’s mouth fell open and Cy laughed. “Don’t mess with a woman who knits.”
Bitsy’s eyes sparkled. “Crochets. And I’m determined when I know what’s best for all concerned.”
Rosa and Bitsy trekked up the rickety stairs, single file, until they reached the attic, which was redolent with dust and a faint fragrance of the sea. The twin beds perched against the walls, just as they had when she was a teen, looking drastically smaller to Rosa’s adult eyes. Memories flooded through her.
She pictured the stacks of decorator magazines, dog-eared and marked, that she used to pore over in that tiny space, dreaming of bright, shining places where happy families lounged in comfort and style. Her foot found the white stain on the floor, a souvenir of the giant solar system she’d painstakingly painted on the wall before coming to her senses and covering it all with a cool blue tint.
Why had Bitsy ever allowed the solar system monstrosity in the first place? Rosa sneaked a look at Bitsy’s worn face. Because Bitsy was a stalwart defender of every one of Rosa’s dreams. She’d been the only one besides Cy to whom Rosa spilled her truest feelings after her humiliating exit from law school.
And now it was Rosa’s turn to do the same for Bitsy, to transform the