Return to Pelican Inn (Love by Design) (12 page)

“You’re a good dog, Baggy,” she whispered. “And just in case you’re wondering, I won’t leave you. Ever. We might be sleeping in the car pretty soon, without a kibble bowl to call our own, but I won’t abandon you.”

Baggy sighed, pressed his nose to her thigh and settled into sleep. Rosa pulled the old crocheted afghan around her shoulders and did the same.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“M
ISS
?”
A
QUIET
VOICE
called out in her dreams.

Rosa pulled the afghan tighter around her shoulders and willed away the interruption.

“Miss?” the voice came again. Rosa opened one eye and a slender woman with a neat bob haircut swam into view.

The dream woman held up a cardboard tube. Strange dream.

“I just wanted to say, Miss, that we’ve used the last of the toilet paper.”

Even stranger. Rosa’s other eye snapped open and she observed a younger version of the woman staring at Rosa’s flying-pig pants.

“Pardon?” was the best Rosa could manage. “Did you say something about toilet paper?”

The woman broke into a shy smile. “Yes. We’ve used the last of it. I just thought you’d want to know. Thank you.”

And with that, she handed the empty roll to Rosa and exited via the front door. Rosa tried blinking hard and shoving the hair out of her face, which did nothing for her mental clarity. Thinking perhaps she was still dreaming, she tossed aside the afghan, noting that Baggy had headed for parts unknown. The clock chimed 7:00 a.m.

“So much for getting an early start,” she grumbled. She’d padded halfway across the floor when the front door eased open and a red-cheeked man holding the fists of two little boys pushed through.

“Hello?” Rosa said. “Can I help you?”

“No, thanks,” he said. “We’re self-sufficient. Bradley, stop yanking Christopher’s hair or you’re going to have a time out.” He hustled them off down the hall.

“Um, sir?” she called after him, but he did not turn around.

Bitsy warbled a cheerful good morning from the kitchen. Rosa hastened in. “I’m glad you’re here. There is a guy with two kids roaming the house.” Rosa gestured toward the hall with the empty cardboard tube. “They went that way.”

“And we’re probably out of toilet paper.” Bitsy grabbed a six pack from the closet and hastened after the man and his sons. “Can you stir the cocoa?” she asked, before disappearing.

“What is going on here?” It was a rhetorical question, as Bitsy was long gone. Rosa did as she was told, finding an enormous kettle of cocoa simmering on the stove.

A set of knuckles rapped on the kitchen door. Rosa yanked it open to find Julio and what appeared to be three miniature versions of him milling around. They immediately thrust out their hands.

“Morning,” Julio boomed. “I hope you’ll stop by and see the historical society exhibit at the town hall. Mrs. Mendez and I are really proud of it. Mr. Herzberg’s letters are going to be a big draw. The power of the written word.” He grinned.

“Er, yes, I’m really excited about that, Julio, but, uh, what are you doing here now? I mean, so early in the morning.” She stared down. “With children.”

He blinked. “We’ve come for the cocoa, of course, and unless you want my three nephews doing a self-service, you’d better get cracking, young lady.”

The sight of the nephews threatening to breach the barricade of the kitchen doorway spurred Rosa into action. She grabbed a stack of disposable cups and began ladling up the sweet beverage until six little grasping hands—plus one meatier adult fist—were all clutching cups of cocoa. The contingent looked from their cups to Rosa.

“What? Too hot?”

“Where, my good woman,” Julio said, “are the marshmallows?”

He had to be joking.

Bitsy sailed in at that moment, swept up a bag of marshmallows from the cupboard and doled out two per cup. “And don’t you all look handsome today. Particularly you, Julio. Is that a new shirt I see?”

He blushed. “Mrs. Mendez said I’ve outgrown the last batch. It’s avocado, she tells me. Do you like it?”

“Very flattering,” Bitsy affirmed. “It brings out your lovely coloring.”

He beamed. Rosa had not noticed before that her aunt was such a flirt.

There was a chorus of thank-yous and the gang headed back down the garden path.

“Have fun at the festival,” Bitsy called. “We’ll see you down there later.” She set about sponging the countertop and putting a second pot on the stove, measuring cocoa and sugar along with a pinch of salt before she slowly added a gallon of milk and whisked with vigor.

Rosa drilled her with a look. “Was there anything you might have forgotten to tell me about this weekend?

“Umm,” Bitsy said, eyes rolling in thought. “I did mention it was going to be busy. I distinctly remember saying that.”

“And what exactly is our role in this boat festival?”

Bitsy stirred. “Well, we’ve always opened our doors, you see, allowing folks to park here, use the bathroom, have some cocoa. The Pelican is somewhat of a focal point for the town. Some families picnic in the garden and look at the chickens if their children are well-behaved. We’ve had a few incidents with Esmerelda, but most everyone knows to give her a wide berth.”

Rosa’s mind began to whirl in helpless circles. “And this hysteria goes on all weekend?”

“We only offer cocoa in the morning hours. That way we can go enjoy the festival, too.”

“I don’t have time to enjoy a festival, Bitsy,” Rosa said, striving to keep her voice calm. “I’ve got an inn to redecorate.”

“I’m afraid you won’t get much decorating done this weekend, sweetie, so you might as well enjoy the fun. We have a presence to maintain.”

Rosa was about to snap off a reply when the squeal of the front door announced the arrival of another visitor.

“I’ll go welcome them. Can you handle the cocoa for a minute?”

Rosa was left to fume. Cocoa? Bathrooms? Chicken tours? How was she supposed to accomplish her mega decorating contest goals with the whole of Tumbledown stopping in for hot chocolate and picnics all weekend? Another rap sounded on the kitchen door.

She wrenched it open.

Pike stood on the porch in his glorious white overalls, looking like an angel poised to deliver good tidings. His hair was brushed, and he was neatly shaved and smelling of some manly soap product. “Good morning,” he said. “I was in the neighborhood and I thought I’d stop by for a hot cocoa.”

“Wise guy,” she sniped, splashing cocoa into a cup and thrusting it into his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me the Pelican turns into a full service station for this boat festival thing?”

“I believe,” he said, blowing on his cocoa, “that we tried, but you didn’t want to hear it—which is one of your character flaws.” His eyes wandered to her neon green pants. “Is flying pig flannel like a family tartan or something?”

She longed to sink down and disappear into the floor. It had temporarily slipped her mind that she was wearing pants with airborne pigs on them and a hoodie. Her hair was no doubt standing up in clumps and there were hideous sweat socks on her feet. “They were a gift,” she managed. “From Cy.”

“I’m not surprised.” His eyes sparkled and she found herself smiling back.

“Anyway, if you can keep people supplied with cocoa for a few minutes, I was just going upstairs to change.”

“Sure,” he said, flashing her a little-boy look. “But don’t I get a marshmallow?”

He got several. Shoved down the front of his overalls.

* * *

I
N
SPITE
OF
THE
NOISE
and hubbub building in the parking lot and downstairs, Cy was still asleep as Rosa scurried to the bathroom, dressed and pulled her hair into a neat ponytail. When she returned, she gently shook him by the shoulder.

“Up and at ’em, Cy. The invasion has begun.”

He stumbled to the window. “People everywhere. Has Bitsy got the cocoa supply chain running? She told me about it last night.”

“Yes, complete with marshmallows.”

“Sweet. I’ll go help.” He rummaged for a sweatshirt and jeans to exchange for his raggedy blue sweatpants.

“We have to get some work done somehow, Cy.”

“I’ve got a plan for that, no worries. When are we going to the boat festival?”

“Going? I wasn’t planning on going at all. I figured when things slowed down around here, I could get the flooring started.” She was itching to lay down the rich golden carpet squares in the sitting room to form an area rug that would both accentuate the decorative wall stripes and add punch to the old pine flooring. It would add an unpretentious luxury to the room. Rescued from the “discontinued” bin at a flooring outlet, the carpet tiles had set her back only a few hundred dollars. Truly caviar decorating on a bologna and cheese budget.

“Sis,” Cy said. “You can’t apply carpet tiles with people traipsing all over the inn.”

“There will be a lull. How many people could possibly be interested in this tiny town, anyway?”

Even before he swept aside the curtain for her, she knew the answer. Neighboring Half Moon Bay held an annual Pumpkin Festival, which brought in thousands of visitors from all along the coast. But Tumbledown wasn’t Half Moon Bay, she thought hopefully.

As she glanced down to the ocean, she saw dozens of oddly decorated boats heading for the cove. The cluck of chickens wafted through the air, the sound of disgruntled birds whose coop was being invaded by children. Laughter and the murmur of conversation filtered up from the kitchen.

“My carpet tiles are going to have to wait, aren’t they?” she moaned.

“Good things come to those who wait, I’ve heard. Come on. Let’s go get some cocoa. Will there be breakfast too, do you think?” he asked as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head.

“Don’t give Bitsy any ideas, or she’ll start scrambling eggs for the masses.” Rosa closed the door behind her as she left her brother to change.

A few minutes later they found Manny ladling the cocoa while Bitsy calmed a tiny visitor in the foyer who had been unprepared to meet a dog of Baggy’s unusual appearance. Bitsy crouched next to the child and Baggy hunkered, tail wagging, trying to present his most attractive side to the wee one. The mother spoke reassuringly to her child, but her own expression was dubious.

“See?” Bitsy said. “He’s got a tail and everything. He really is a dog.”

Keep at it, Baggy,
Rosa thought.
You’ll win them over.

Cy jumped into the role of marshmallow dispenser, so Rosa headed for the sitting room where she found Pike eyeing the painter’s tape on the walls.

“Is it time?” he asked. “I’m dying to see how this is going to look.”

She tried not to show it, but she was as eager as he to see the finished product. “You take one end and I’ll get the other.”

With the utmost care, they each peeled off an end of the first piece of tape, and inch by inch, worked their way to the middle until the last bit came loose. They repeated the process for every strip. Without a word, they stepped back to the far side of the room to take it in.

Perfect. It was perfect. The pearly gray was soothing, welcoming, and the wider and narrower stripes of mossy green spoke of tranquility and peace. Elegant, rich in style and comfort, a room worthy of Mr. Herzberg and the Pelican.

She let out a breath. “I think, Mr. Matthews, that we’ve hit a home run.”

His mouth was open in wonder. “You know, I never would have dreamed up an idea like this, but it’s transformative.” He looked at her. “You really are amazing.”

She laughed. “Thank you. And thanks for your help.”

“My pleasure,” he said, putting his hand in hers. Her pulse ticked up a notch until she moved away to fiddle with the drop cloth.

“I sort of disrespected you earlier, made fun of the decorating thing,” he said, voice low. “I didn’t realize how much talent and vision it took to do something like this. I apologize.”

She might have distrusted the words, but the sincerity that shone in his eyes transfixed her. He respected what she had done, and it made her want to throw her arms around him and forget everything.

He embraced her suddenly. Her body was moving into the circle of his arms like a planet circling the sun, when there was a tremendous crash. Instinctively, Rosa threw up her hands, as if to protect her walls from the forces of evil.

“It came from the kitchen,” Pike said, already running toward the sound.

Manny was standing next to an overturned chair, a pool of spilled cocoa on the floor.

“Dad,” Rosa gasped.

Cy emerged from the hallway. “Pops, are you okay?”

“What happened?” Rosa said. “Are you hurt?”

“Naw,” Manny said. “Good thing it wasn’t too hot, though. I was starting another batch. Spooned up a mugful to taste, but something startled me and I knocked it over and upset the chair.”

Baggy scampered in and set to work lapping the cocoa.

“Stop him,” Cy said. “Chocolate is bad for dogs.”

“He already had a lick this morning,” Rosa said.

Pike did his best to corral Baggy, but the wily animal managed to lap up several mouthfuls before he was detained. Pike held him like a live grenade. “Here,” he said, handing the dog to Rosa.

“What startled you?” Pike demanded. “Another squirrel?”

Manny shot a look at Pike and then at Rosa. “Can’t quite remember.” His eyes narrowed.

He remembered, all right. Rosa suspected he’d gotten an eyeful of Pike starting to embrace her and decided to put a stop to it before she’d done it herself. Rosa’s face went molten. “I’ll get a mop to clean up the mess.”

“It’s like a Saturday-morning cartoon,” Bitsy said as she arrived in the kitchen. “There’s cocoa all over the floor and your overalls, Pike.”

Pike’s white overalls were now spattered with brown from Baggy’s wet paws. They looked out the window to see a line of curious people, peering through the kitchen window, waiting for their allotment of cocoa.

“Still think it’s a good idea to put down your carpet tiles?” Cy said.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to stay in town,” Rosa replied.