Page 3 of The Inn Dilemma

As I rap on the door, I pray Aunt Birdie will be quick to forgive and purposely forget what an idiot I was at nineteen. A door slams in the distance, probably one of the many cabin rentals the Storybook Inn has behind the main house. Not only does the main house have six guest bedrooms, but ten or more cabins where guests stay. Bigfamilies and out-of-state hunters are typically the people who rent them. There’s a larger, more private cabin which is typically reserved by celebrities looking for an escape from the real world. Aunt Birdie ensures those guests have the privacy they desire.

As the seconds tick by, my impatience and fear grow.

“Lord, please let Aunt Birdie forgive me and take me in, even if she accepts me only for the help I can provide here. I don’t deserve it, but Lord, I’m begging for it anyway.” The prayer is a soft whisper.

I blow out cleansing breath after cleansing breath as I wait.

The door swings open and Aunt Birdie greets me with, “Welcome…” then trails off as she takes me in. Her surprise transforms into a smile that chases away some of the chill in my bones. Without me saying a word, she pulls me into her arms, and I melt into her embrace. “Oh, my sweet girl has come home.”

All the fears I’ve imagined at seeing disappointment in Aunt Birdie’s eyes dissipate in that single moment. The tightness in my chest that I’ve felt since getting on the plane two weeks ago releases a smidgeon. I know if I finally let my tears fall, I’d feel so much better. But my dad’s voice will forever echo in my head: “No child of mine will cry. Tears are a weakness, and no one with the Price name will be weak.” A shuddering breath leaves my lips. Emotions leak out of me, a mix of gratitude and shame. Pain and healing. Past and present.

Aunt Birdie holds me as I breathe through these emotions with my eyes squeezed tightly closed. She guides me into a private room—presumably her office. She squeezes me tighter and mutters, “You keep doing those deep breaths until you feel normal again.”

I do.

Once my breathing has returned to normal, she gives me a final squeeze, then pushes me back at arm’s length. “Now you look more like the girl I remember.”

I give her a half-hearted smile and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

She grips my shoulders tightly and forces me to look her in the face. “When you’re with me, you don’t apologize for showing emotion. Do you hear me?”

I mutter, “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiles and scans me from head to toe. “I thought Paris was full of carbs, sugar, and cheese, but you’re nothing but skin and bones. It’s time we put some meat on you!” The heaviness that’s been weighing me down lifts as she wraps her arm around my waist, guides us to the kitchen, and grabs me a bagel and coffee.

“My cook Emma makes incredible cinnamon raisin bagels that go beautifully with a fresh cup of coffee. Do you take it with cream and sugar or black?” Aunt Birdie asks.

“Black is fine.” My stomach growls in excitement. For the last two weeks, I’ve been surviving on plain toast and ramen noodles. My savings took a massive hit after I bought my plane ticket, and I didn’t want to eat any of Reese’s food and mooch off her more than I already had to.

As I eat, Aunt Birdie asks, “Where are you staying?”

“Right now, with Reese.”

“The two of you in that tiny apartment?” Aunt Birdie places a hand over her chest as if it’s the most ludicrous thing she’s ever heard.

“I don't have money for rent. So I’ve been accepting her charity.”

She tsks at me. “No more. You’re going to stay in the Dream Haven Cabin.”

“You don’t need to put me up here, let alone in one of your best cabins.”

“I will hear nothing of that. My girl is home, and this is the first week in months that we’re not fully booked. Almost like God set up this perfect timing.” She wraps her arm around me and gives me another strong squeeze. “I have a few things I need to take care of, but you feel free to enjoy your carbs and get reacquainted with the place.” Before leaving me alone in the kitchen, she kisses my forehead, and the feeling of being loved consumes me.

In mere minutes, the delicious bagel is gone, not a crumb left on my plate. I put it in the dishwasher, then roam into the den with my coffee, curling my fingers around the warm porcelain and sipping the delicious brew on the way.

The unchanged decor is a welcome comfort. The fireplace in the den provides warmth, and the peaceful popping of the flames in the background drowns out the jumbled thoughts ping-ponging through my head.

I set my coffee down on the side table and make my way over to the built-in bookcases flanking the fireplace. My fingers trace the book spines. There’s a mix of newer and classic books. Two that stick out areNeverending MercyandSecrets, Lies, and Deadly Ties. I’ve read and enjoyed both, so I pull them out and display them on top of the mantel. More people need to experience the powerful messages of faith and love between their pages.

I roam around the rest of the downstairs and see a woman in a white chef’s jacket slip into the kitchen—the cook, Emma, I presume. The warmth of the house andAunt Birdie’s welcome help the chill in my bones completely fade away.

“There you are.” Aunt Birdie flits into the dining room where I’m finishing my cup of coffee and wraps her arm around me, resting her head on my shoulder. “Oh, how I’ve missed you. We’ve all missed you. Holt is going to be thrilled when he finds out you’re home.”

My posture stiffens and my heart hammers at the sound of his name. Holt—my brother’s best friend and the boy who got me through so many ups and downs through my childhood. Someone else I left behind without a backward glance when I thought I knew better than the people in my life.

“Is he home on a break?” I ask, slightly confused. Holt became a Navy SEAL after graduating high school. He excelled at the rigorous tests and training, almost as if being a SEAL was what he was born to do. As if it was in his blood. It was his dream to become a Navy SEAL, even as a kid. The last I talked to him about it, his plan was to stay in for the full twenty years before he could retire with all his benefits.

Aunt Birdie’s face falls. “You didn’t hear?”

---