Page 12 of Wynns of Change
“Of course not, but we’ll need to be careful.” He trailed after his daughter, making his way along the cobblestone walkway to the front of the lodge, or what was left of it.
Blackened beams poked out of the ground. Shards of broken glass littered the pavement and porch. The acrid smell of smoke was long gone, but the memory of the horrific night was never far from Harlow’s mind.
She turned to her father, noticing his shoulders slumped. His eyes were filled with grief and pain. Harlow was certain her expression mirrored his. It seemed so long ago, yet at times it felt like only yesterday. “I still remember it.”
“Me too, Harlow.” David rubbed his brow. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the images, the smell, the moment our lives changed forever. All I have to do is close my eyes, and it replays in my mind, every minute of it in slow motion.”
Chapter 6
Five years earlier.
“The papers are in a manila folder on the desk.” Ginger Wynn tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and gazed at her husband, noticing new creases on his face, what she called “worry lines” etched on his forehead. The last six months had taken their toll. Wynn Harbor Inn’s plummeting room reservations, which meant a dip in income, the notice from the IRS about opening an investigation. Both weighed heavily on the couple’s minds.
Factored in were their recent arguments over scaling back and working less. Ginger wasn’t getting any younger. Neither was David. Keeping the current pace and wearing so many hats had aged them both.
But her husband, a proud man who lived and breathed his beloved inn, refused to consider hiring someone to manage it, giving them a much-needed break.
Harlow was spreading her wings with a promising career in modeling and movies. It was only a matter of time before she left the island. Their small nest was almost empty.
Ginger wanted nothing more than to enjoy their golden years, enjoy the fruits of their labor. Instead of planning for the future, they were saddled with a problematic inn. If she had her way, they would sell it lock, stock and barrel, buy something smaller and live happily ever after.
The couple's polar opposite vision of what their future looked like had become a sore spot. Only days earlier, they’d gotten into a huge argument, one of the worst she could ever remember.
Ginger found David seated at his desk. When pressed, he confessed he was having chest pains. His doctor had warned him that he needed to reduce his stress or he was headed to an early grave. When she finally got up enough nerve to throw down the gauntlet: Choose me or Wynn Harbor Inn, he clammed up, refusing to discuss it. It was then she knew she was engaged in a losing battle.
Ginger packed a suitcase and moved into the small manager’s apartment. On the surface, they still functioned as a team. On a personal level, husband and wife were miles apart.
Until the other day, when David showed up on her doorstep with a bouquet of her favorite flowers and an invitation to dinner. A small sliver of hope welled up in Ginger.
“Thank you for inviting me to dinner.” She sipped her drink, eyeing her husband over the rim of her glass. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” David gruffly replied. “I got to thinking about the doctor and what you said. Do you really think it’s possible for us to find a way to compromise?”
“Carving out more time and letting someone else help with running the day-to-day operations?” she asked.
He nodded, noting the look on his wife’s face. Ginger was as miserable as he was. Both knew they had nothing to hide from the IRS. Their books were in perfect order. Yes, they had some overdue taxes and a few expenses the agent had red-flagged, but David had scraped together the money and planned to ask for the penalty to be waived. The discrepancies could be explained.
If they budgeted carefully, they would have enough to make it through until the height of tourist season kicked in and they could replenish the funds.
“It’s what I want, what we need,” Ginger replied. “We aren’t getting any younger. Wouldn’t it be nice to spend more time on Winnie, go fishing when we want, maybe even take a real vacation?”
David reached across the table. “Let’s do it, Ginger. We can make it work. We’re a team.”
“A team.” She squeezed his hand.
The rest of the dinner conversation was easy talk, about Harlow, about going fishing. After it ended, David asked his wife to return home. “You belong here, with me. We’ll hire a manager. As part of their package, they can live in the manager’s unit.”
“Tomorrow, after I pack and clean the place up.” Ginger covered her mouth to hide her yawn. “It’s past my bedtime.”
David escorted his wife back to the lodge. After a brief word with the clerk on duty, he took the long way home, a long walk to clear his head. He and Ginger would be okay. They always found a way to work through their issues.
Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time to slow down, to let someone else do the heavy lifting, yet not step away completely. There was no way he would turn his beloved inn over to someone else.
Harlow’s career was skyrocketing. He and Ginger should enjoy what they had. They both worked hard, and he was relieved to hear she planned to return home.
A beam of bright light flashed off in the distance. At first, he thought a storm was rolling in. A closer check of the night skies—clear and filled with stars—meant the flash wasn’t lightning.
It wasn’t unusual to see lights. Guests regularly roamed the grounds after dark, couples taking a romantic stroll down bythe bay, families catching up and congregating by the pool after hours.
