Page 8 of A Family Affair: The Plan
“If you like these muffins, wait until you try my blueberry pie.” Mimi saluted Hope with her mug. “Of course, blueberry pie isn’t complete without vanilla bean ice cream.”
Homemade blueberry pie. Vanilla bean ice cream. How could she resist? She usually limited her sweet consumption to fruit and the occasional piece of dark chocolate. It wasn’t that she didn’t like sweets, but because shelovedthem—too much. One slice of pie could morph into a third of the pie. One brownie into four. One cookie into…who counted cookies? She’d never been able to control her obsession with sweets, so she’dpracticed avoidance. If you didn’t see, smell,ortaste it, then it didn’t exist.
But the explosion of confection and sugar had bombarded Hope’s senses the minute she entered the Heart Sent, and it was impossible to pretend they didn’t exist. Hope bit into a blueberry muffin, savored the combination of tart and sweetness. “This is so delicious.”
Mimi nodded, her smile spreading. “I’ll give you the recipe if you like. It’s one of my favorites.”
A recipe to make this deliciousness whenever she wanted? Oh, that did sound dangerous and ill-advised, but Hope couldn’t say no, not when she wanted to gain Mimi’s friendship… “I would love the recipe.”
“I’ll start a list for you.” Those blue eyes twinkled. “This might be a nice addition to the menu at your bed-and-breakfast.”
She was right; it would be a good addition: comforting, homemade, scrumptious. “Thank you.” Hope finished her muffin, eyed a second before turning to Mimi. “I want to get to know more about the people in this town. I’ve made a list of whom I should approach first, and I thought maybe you could give me some guidance?” Hope slid the folder toward her. “Of course, you’re the first person I want to interview. I’d like to hear all about this place, how you decide on the meals, the décor, all of it. Rose petals in the bridal suite and creating albums of couples? That’s brilliant.” She sat back in her chair, tapped her pen against the table. “It lends such an intimate feel that says ‘I care about you’ and ‘the little things matter’.” Hope made a few notes on her laptop, then added, “I want to know everything you’ve done to achieve a connection with your guests.”
The woman’s red ball earrings bounced about as she nodded. “Of course, I’ll help you. This place is a part of me. Every decision I’ve made is about making our guests comfortableand welcoming them to our community. The hibiscus tea, my signature buttermilk biscuits, the homecooked meals, and baked goods all strive to do that.” Her smile spread, her voice filled with emotion. “Couples love the rose petals in the honeymoon suite, and not just the women. Men can be big romantics, too, if you don’t push them.” She let out a soft sigh. “One of my very favorite additions are the photo albums of the meant-to-bes.” She placed a hand on her heart, closed her eyes, and whispered, “There’s so much beauty and joy in Magdalena, and couples who’ve seen that beauty let destiny guide them to happily-ever-after.”
Mimi opened her eyes, leaned toward Hope, and patted her hand. “I’ve seen my share of heartache and heartbreak, and people who believe happiness will never find them. And then, they open their eyes and the miracle happens. They see one another for who they truly are and the impossible becomes possible.” The ball earrings bounced with each nod. “Once you find your way about town and meet a few of the people who live here, we’ll pour a glass of wine, and I’ll pull out the albums and tell you about the couples who stayed at the Heart Sent.” The woman’s voice filled with what could only be called love. “Some still live here, others only visited, but it’s the pure love that helped them find the joy in their heart as they spoke their ‘I love yous’. It’s pure magic, and while there have been problems, even despair, this town and the people in it have pulled couples together and made them see how rare and special true love can be.”
This!This is what made Magdalena a home for so many and it was the Heart Sent that provided a haven for visitors as they learned about the townandthe people in it. Mimi Pendergrass and her belief in joy, kindness, and second chances were integral to a successful bed-and-breakfast. Hope would make sure whoever ran their bed-and-breakfasts possessed these samequalities. She wanted to make notes about the photo albums, the quaintness of the kitchen table talks, the lace tablecloth in the dining room, as well as the specialty teas, and homemade goodies. Martin loved “automating” their hotels, but maybe bed-and-breakfasts should not be automated to the point where every item in every location was served on certain days, in a specific rotation, no exceptions. And did the tablecloths have to look exactly the same? What about the dinnerware and the towels? The wallpaper and furniture?
Could they not be more “authentic” and less “manufactured”?
And then there was the whole destiny-meant-to-be philosophy. People wanted to believe in it, so let them! It was a brilliant public relations strategy, and Hope might even be able to get a statement from a few couples. She could see the value in that even if she didn’t buy into happily-ever-after. None of that mattered because her job was to produce the best experience for the customer, and that’s exactly what she planned to do.
Hope turned to Mimi, excitement pulsing through her as she envisioned so much potential with this project. “I want to hear everything, Mimi.” Not many people were as open and willing to share their stories or their secrets, but this woman was indeed special.
“If you can help others enjoy bed-and-breakfasts, then I’m honored to be a small part of it. I’ll help you any way I can.” Mimi reached for the red reading glasses that hung on a beaded chain around her neck. I used to wear these here—” she patted the top of her salt-and-pepper head “—but then I kept forgetting where they were, and it became a joke. Harry Blacksworth got this chain for me, said it matched my personality.” Another laugh, a soft, “I asked for clarification on that remark, and he winked and added words like ‘bold, vibrant, one-of-a-kind’.” She fingered one of the beads, this one red with silver. “Harry certainly is acharacter. You never quite know what he’s up to, but the man has such a kind heart. Who would have ever thought it would turn out like this?” Her blue eyes shimmered. “You’ll hear the tales soon enough, but let’s say the Blacksworth name was not always welcomeorrespected in this town. Harry changed that, and we can’t imagine Magdalena without him in it. He’s recently been named the Godfather of this town, took over for our very own Pop Benito.” Those eyes matched the ‘happy’ tone in her voice. “Nowthere’sa man you have to meet. Pop has more stories than a library and a way of telling them that makes you wish he’d never stop. I’m sure he’ll treat you to a few pizzelles, but don’t accept his wine, no matter how hard he pushes it.”Tsk tsk. “Pop can’t say ‘no’ to Sal Ventori, the man who thinks he’s a winemaker but doesn’t produce anything unless you want to call it vinegar.”
Harry Blacksworth? Pop Benito? Sal Ventori? Hope clutched her pen, stared at the folder in front of Mimi. How was she going to keep the names straight and how could she possibly decide what was important? A detailed spreadsheet was the only way, one that included characteristics, jobs, relationship status, number of children. Animals? Hobbies? Ugh, she’d still need to transfer that data to real life situations, like introductions and conversations. Mimi Pendergrass could guide her toward the most influential people in the town and with her introduction, what could go wrong?
4
“Don’t you worry, I’ll help you.” Mimi smiled, her tone soothing as she opened the folder, scanned one page and then another. She’d made it through three pages before she closed the folder and eased it toward Hope. “Dear, what are you trying to achieve here? You’ve got names and places, but they don’t tell you anything. There’s nolifeon these pages, nothing that points a person in one direction or another.”
“That’s where I thought you could help.” It had never been necessary to become so personally involved with a business prospect, but Mimi and the residents of Magdalenaweren’tbusiness prospects. They were people with opinions, backstories, and curiosity and she had no idea how to connect with them. Small towns were skeptical of new people, especially ones who asked a lot of questions and acted like they had a plan that would save the residents from their small-town thinking.
Yes, she remembered the comments and the looks, all centered around a better way to think, to act, to live…to become.Her mother had latched onto all of it, spent years working to transform Hope from the curious child who detested shoes,loved reading about dragons and wizards, embraced thrift-store clothing, and didn’t care if her friends weren’t “popular” into someone whodidcare—about all of it—the reading material, the clothing, the friends. Even the speech patterns, facial expressions, and posture mattered, as did the pearls, which according to Abigail Newland could make a personappearcredible.
It took three years of therapy for Hope to understand her mother’s manipulation and another two to begin to move past it. From the outside, Hope Amanda Newland possessed equal amounts of intelligence, confidence, and business savvy, capable of handling any situation. But inside she still fell back to the child whose mother didn’t believe she was good enough and wanted to turn her into someone else. It took work, but Hope did away with the need to practice her speech patterns, and study hand gestures and facial expressions. She still preferred a well-curated designer look and an air of confidence. Both helped her retain control of situations, and she very much needed to feel in control. She could blame her mother for the scars of uncertainty and doubt that lived deep inside, but what good would it do? Even if her mother were alive, she’d deny all of it, claim she was only trying to teach Hope the realities of life.
She blew out a long breath, thought about her current predicament. She’d arrived in this town less than twenty-four hours ago, and already, that control was slipping.She needed help.One more breath, a clearing of her throat. “Can you help me, Mimi?” Another breath, a soft “Please?”
“I’m happy to guide you, but you’ll have to do the legwork. Talk to people, share a cup of coffee or iced tea, and listen to their stories. Most are happy to share.” She pointed to the folder, shook her head as her red ball earrings bounced about. “Lives are not contained on pieces of paper, or spreadsheets all neat and numbered. People are filled with emotion and storiesand you have to get the feel of it all in order to understand it. Even then, you might not really understand.” She sipped her tea, hesitated a moment, as though considering what and how much to share. “Let’s take Sam Harrington. Nice young man, smart as they come, had his life planned out, and nobody was going to stop him. Why he even planned to return to Magdalena one day and take over his father’s vet practice. The boy was all set. And talk about loving your parents? He idolized his father; said if he could be one-tenth the kind of man Edgar Harrington was, he’d be happy. But then life fell apart and the choices he made landed right on top of him. That poor boy lost the logic, the plans, and a straight path to success, and it all started and ended with a woman.”
Hope stared at Mimi, waited for her to expand on Sam Harrington’s story and when she didn’t, Hope said, “I see.” No doubt it involved a break-up. It had happened with some of her coworkers, even one of the women she loosely called “friend”. Most never saw it coming, but when it did, they had to reassessandre-work their lives.
“They’re divorced now. She’s in Chicago, and he’s…” She took a healthy swallow of tea. “He’s trying to find his way back to the person he always thought he’d be. It’s going to take time, and it won’t be easy. His father barely speaks to him and that’s tricky since they both work at the vet clinic. Edgar is so hurt by what Sam did that he can’t see what a talented doctor his son is, how valuable he is to the practice, and how he could help make it flourish. No, Sam’s father isn’t interested in what his sonmightdo. He only wants to remember what hedidn’tdo and how he gave up his family for a woman who didn’t value or appreciate him.”
Hope did not want to have such a personal discussion about a man she didn’t know. She’d always believed in privacy and respecting personal boundaries, but her mother had neverunderstood that concept, insisted it was her duty to advise and assist in her daughter’s quest for a full life. As if the woman knew what that even meant. The only way to stop the questions and the prying was to fabricate.I’m seeing someone and there’s a lot of potential.Do you want to hear about him? It could be serious.
How serious?
Not sure, but it could be big.More fabrication as she’d created the dream choice that would gain her mother’s approval.
Abigail Newland died of complications from double pneumonia three months before Hope began dating Kent. Maybe her mother’s death had made her vulnerable or in some strange way, she’d wanted to find someone because her mother had wanted that so much. Hope let out a long sigh, wished she’d had a mother who could love her for herself and not who she wanted her to be. She slid a glance at Mimi, caught the woman studying her.
“You were miles away, and not in a happy place.” Her blue eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, her voice gentled. “Magdalena is the perfect place to relax, contemplate, and gain perspective.” She nodded, her lips pulling into a smile. “I think you’ll like what you find out, and I’ll bet you’ll leave this place a lot calmer—” her gaze darted from Hope’s chignon to her pearl necklace “—and who can’t use a bit more calm?”
Calm?Why would Mimi say that? Hope practiced breathing techniques, yoga, meditation, read books, had even journalled once or twice. Okay, so maybe she only felt true “calm” when she was involved in these activities, butnotbeing calm gave her an edge in business, one that helped propel her toward the next promotion. As for calm in her personal life? She preferred to call it the ability to remain unattached from deep emotion, thereby protecting herself from the rawness of caring too much. Hope bet Sam Harrington understood all about that.
