it apart, sweating out my frustrations. Worth every bit of soreness and exhaustion that’s dragging me down now.
“I’ve seen worse ways to deal with pent-up emotion, and from the sheer amount of wreckage, there seems to be a whole lot inside you,” she says. There’s no sarcasm in her voice, just pure honesty. We’re family and practically strangers, yet she knows exactly how to read me. “But finances are tight these days, so next time work with what we have. I can’t afford for you to destroy everythin’ around here and neither can you.”
“The B and B isn’t as busy as I remember,” I say, glancing at Grammy J. Her eyes are locked on some spot off in the distance, and I wonder if she’s happy residing out here in the quiet with only the brief conversations she has with guests to keep her company.
She swallows more wine and says, “Business has been slow for several seasons now. Most of the larger commercial vineyards built lodging on the property and folks are choosin’ to stay there instead of at independently run places. Hard to compete with convenience, I suppose, though I reckon quaintness and charm should count for somethin’.”
“I’m in public relations. If you’d be open to it, I can develop some promotional materials for you, overhaul the website, help generate buzz about the Inn outside of the area,” I say, ideas already swirling in my head. The B&B could partner with other small local vendors—boutique wineries, family-owned farms and orchards, restaurants and markets—to create vacation packages that showcase hidden gems around Wilhelmsburg. Napa has been successfully doing that type of thing for years. It’s about time this one-horse town caught on. Except the Inn needs more than just PR to salvage it—more like a total renovation, but I would never say that to Grammy J. She’d have her shotgun cocked before the words left my mouth.
“I wasn’t aware you’d be stickin’ around long enough to accomplish all that.” Grammy J looks at me. Her lips have taken on a purplish hue thanks to the wine. “Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but want to tell me what prompted this little visit?”
Brushing flecks of paint off my dirt-stained white jeans, I sigh and say, “I needed a break. Some time off.” From Nick and my mother and life. From everything . I’ve been here a day and already it’s as if the weight that’s been pressing on my chest has lifted a fraction so I can breathe again.
Grammy J shakes her head, now a darkening silhouette against the sunset. “Then you’re a fool, child. I already told you I’m puttin’ you to work, and while I appreciate whatever you can do for the Inn, there are no free passes—even for family.”
“Noted,” I say, tucking my feet under me, the low drone of cicadas a relaxing chorus around me. I close my eyes. A breeze washes over my face, and I inhale the scent of soil and ripe fruit growing somewhere nearby that instantly reminds me of Ryan. The image of him pinning me against the counter in Hodgepodge flashes behind my eyelids. “But right now I’m off to soak in a bubble bath.” Standing, I stretch my arms above my head and offer the bottle back to Grammy J.
“Keep it,” she says. “I reckon you’re goin’ to be in that tub awhile with the amount of scrubbin’ you need. May as well drink some great wine while you do it.”
A small laugh escapes. “You’re probably not too far off, but don’t say anything to Ryan about me liking it, okay?”
“You know, after that debacle between you two at the Gansey house all those years ago, I never thought I’d see you runnin’ off with him again, but you sure were quick to get in his car this afternoon.” A conspiratorial half smile forms on her face.
“I panicked. I have no interest in Ryan,” I say, trying to ignore his words playing in a loop in my head. I think you’ve been waiting your whole life for a guy like me to come along and wake you up, show you just how
“I’ve seen worse ways to deal with pent-up emotion, and from the sheer amount of wreckage, there seems to be a whole lot inside you,” she says. There’s no sarcasm in her voice, just pure honesty. We’re family and practically strangers, yet she knows exactly how to read me. “But finances are tight these days, so next time work with what we have. I can’t afford for you to destroy everythin’ around here and neither can you.”
“The B and B isn’t as busy as I remember,” I say, glancing at Grammy J. Her eyes are locked on some spot off in the distance, and I wonder if she’s happy residing out here in the quiet with only the brief conversations she has with guests to keep her company.
She swallows more wine and says, “Business has been slow for several seasons now. Most of the larger commercial vineyards built lodging on the property and folks are choosin’ to stay there instead of at independently run places. Hard to compete with convenience, I suppose, though I reckon quaintness and charm should count for somethin’.”
“I’m in public relations. If you’d be open to it, I can develop some promotional materials for you, overhaul the website, help generate buzz about the Inn outside of the area,” I say, ideas already swirling in my head. The B&B could partner with other small local vendors—boutique wineries, family-owned farms and orchards, restaurants and markets—to create vacation packages that showcase hidden gems around Wilhelmsburg. Napa has been successfully doing that type of thing for years. It’s about time this one-horse town caught on. Except the Inn needs more than just PR to salvage it—more like a total renovation, but I would never say that to Grammy J. She’d have her shotgun cocked before the words left my mouth.
“I wasn’t aware you’d be stickin’ around long enough to accomplish all that.” Grammy J looks at me. Her lips have taken on a purplish hue thanks to the wine. “Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but want to tell me what prompted this little visit?”
Brushing flecks of paint off my dirt-stained white jeans, I sigh and say, “I needed a break. Some time off.” From Nick and my mother and life. From everything . I’ve been here a day and already it’s as if the weight that’s been pressing on my chest has lifted a fraction so I can breathe again.
Grammy J shakes her head, now a darkening silhouette against the sunset. “Then you’re a fool, child. I already told you I’m puttin’ you to work, and while I appreciate whatever you can do for the Inn, there are no free passes—even for family.”
“Noted,” I say, tucking my feet under me, the low drone of cicadas a relaxing chorus around me. I close my eyes. A breeze washes over my face, and I inhale the scent of soil and ripe fruit growing somewhere nearby that instantly reminds me of Ryan. The image of him pinning me against the counter in Hodgepodge flashes behind my eyelids. “But right now I’m off to soak in a bubble bath.” Standing, I stretch my arms above my head and offer the bottle back to Grammy J.
“Keep it,” she says. “I reckon you’re goin’ to be in that tub awhile with the amount of scrubbin’ you need. May as well drink some great wine while you do it.”
A small laugh escapes. “You’re probably not too far off, but don’t say anything to Ryan about me liking it, okay?”
“You know, after that debacle between you two at the Gansey house all those years ago, I never thought I’d see you runnin’ off with him again, but you sure were quick to get in his car this afternoon.” A conspiratorial half smile forms on her face.
“I panicked. I have no interest in Ryan,” I say, trying to ignore his words playing in a loop in my head. I think you’ve been waiting your whole life for a guy like me to come along and wake you up, show you just how
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