Page 55 of Beachcomber Motel
“No, I have every confidence the Beachcomber will thrive and the loan will be repaid fully. And you’re right. This town needs a good motel if it’s going to make a comeback.” Henry looked around again at the crowds. “And I do believe it will make a comeback. Come on. Let’s go get a beer… I feel like celebrating. You and I and this town are in for great things.”
Chapter Forty
“I’m so excited that you’re still in the contest!” Maddie slipped her arm around Gina’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze as they watched Sonja Childs loading up her car in the parking lot of the Beachcomber. Sonja had been eliminated for lack of creativity.
“It doesn’t seem fair,” Gina said. “She knows what she’s doing, and I don’t.”
Judging by the way Sonja was slamming things into her trunk and glaring over at Gina, she didn’t think it was fair either.
“Maybe that’s why you beat her. Sometimes when you’ve been doing something for a while, you get so bogged down in knowing what you are supposed to do that you lose that creative spark,” Jules said.
Gina shrugged. “I’m sure it was just a fluke, but it’s kind of fun to still be in the contest.”
“I’m glad you stayed, and she got cut.” They turned to see another of the contestants, Bronwyn Saunders, approaching. Apparently she’d been walking on the beach. She had her sandals in one hand and a huge shell in the other. “I know it sounds mean, but she’s not a nice person. I’ve competed against her before.”
Maddie wasn’t sure what to say about that. She preferred to be positive, so she decided to compliment Bronwyn. “I thought your pie was very pretty with the whipped cream sculpture on top.”
Bronwyn laughed. “Kept me in the contest, I guess. But Gina’s was the best with those molded dough flowers and leaves. Where did you learn that? Did you go to a fancy pastry school?”
Gina laughed. “No, my grandmother taught me when I was a kid. I haven’t actually even done much with pie in years, but I guess I got lucky today.”
“I learned from my grandmother too! In fact, that’s why I’m here. She sacrificed so much to teach me and put me through pastry school, and now…” Bronwyn’s voice trailed off, and she looked down at the shell in her hand. “She’s sick.”
Maddie felt a surge of sympathy for the girl. Her short blond hair, cornflower-blue eyes, and sprinkling of freckles across her nose made her look like she couldn’t be more than twenty-five. Too young to have to deal with a sick grandmother. “I’m so sorry.”
Bronwyn gave her a small smile. “Thanks. I want to take her to a cancer clinic in Mexico, but that costs money.”
“You want to use the contest money,” Jules said.
Maddie hadn’t given much thought to the prize money because she hadn’t expected Gina to make it that far. They could use it for the motel—she knew because she’d run the numbers last night, and they would run out of money soon, even with the increase in bookings. She hadn’t told her cousins yet. She didn’t want to spoil things when it finally seemed like everything was going well. But even though the motel could use the money, she found herself hoping that Bronwyn won the contest.
“It will be hard to beat Brad. He’s pretty good and a lot more experienced. His wife is going to have a baby soon.” Bronwyn turned to Gina with a smile. “And it’s apparently hard to beat you too.”
Brad Rutledge, the third remaining contestant, was a chef at a fancy restaurant in Miami. He was in his midfifties, which Maddie supposed afforded him several decades of experience over Bronwyn.
“You never know. Sometimes experience isn’t everything.” Maddie wanted to encourage Bronwyn.
“True, and on that note, I’d better get to my room,” Bronwyn said as Sonja sped out of the lot. “I need to be well rested for the contest. Good luck tomorrow.”
“She seems nice,” Jules said.
“She does. And now that Sonja is gone, we have an open room. Do you want it, Gina?” Maddie asked.
Gina mulled it over for a few seconds. “Nah, I’m kind of starting to like the storage room, and besides, I don’t want to get into moving until the contest is over.”
Jules sighed. “I guess we’ll have plenty of rooms open then.”
“You’d be surprised.” Maddie oozed optimism. “We have two reservations for a few days following the contest and one for the week after. Which brings up the question, What will we do if the motel gets full again? We don’t want to take up too many of the rooms.”
“What did Gram do?” Jules asked. “I don’t remember her actually living at any of the motels.”
“She didn’t. She hired help to man the front desk at night, then it was closed after a certain time. Keys left in envelopes under the planter for late check-ins. At least that’s what Rose told me. Gram lived in that little Victorian on the end of Grove Street here in town.”
“The one with the fancy trim work?” Jules asked.
“Yep.” Maddie thought about Starfish Cottage. Did she dare to hope? “If we decide to stay in town and make a go of this long-term, we can’t very well live at the motel.”
“Yeah, one-room living gets tedious,” Jules said. “But that begs the question: Are we staying here for the long-term?”
