Page 74 of The Weekend Crashers
She brushes past Maggie to find Gretchen. She can’t wait to tell her she’s done.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Belinda decides that since the Cavanaugh party is joining the group tonight, she’ll host in the lobby instead of in the Purl. She’s always wanted to throw a big celebration in that space. And now, since there isn’t a single guest at the inn who isn’t also coming to the party, it’s the perfect chance to experiment with transforming the space from functional to festive. Maybe herlastchance.
She pushes that thought away.
The lobby doesn’t have the dramatic water views of the Purl, but it has the grandeur of its history. She strings lights along the mantel and railings, sets out a few baskets of pumpkins and gourds, and programs a playlist with songs from Norah Jones, Jackson Browne, the Lumineers. The corner just past the front desk is a perfect space for a self-service bar, with a side table that can serve as a nice little station for mulled cider and cinnamon sticks.
The front door opens, bringing a gust of fresh cool air—along with Max’s return.
Belinda stands from the crouch position she’d been in, arranging a garland of faux autumn leaves around the lobby stair’s banister.
“I’m surprised to see you back so soon,” she says. Shedoesn’t mean it to come across as negative, but Max looks mildly wounded.
“Well, one of the places I was going to look at fell through. But the place on Chestnut is in mint condition. There’s no way it will still be on the market by the time we’re ready to make an offer. But it’s good to know things like that are out there.”
She turns back to the garland, willing him to stop talking. She doesn’t want to hear any more. He’ll ruin her weekend if she allows it.
“So, the good news is, I can come to your shindig tonight after all,” he says.
She stops weaving the garland in between the wooden slats, her body going still.
“You really don’t have to. I shouldn’t even have brought it up,” she says. There’s a beat of silence, but she keeps her back to him.
“Well,” he says finally. “I want to.”
Belinda stares straight ahead at the stairs, blinking back tears. “I actually don’t want you to come. It’s just going to remind me what’s going on with this place... the sale... everything I’m trying not to think about.”
Behind her, she feels him move closer until his arms encircle her. She lays her head back against his shoulder, trying to feel connected. But the simple joy she felt decorating a moment earlier is gone, replaced by a sinking sense of dread.
Someone calls out her name. She and Max move in tandem, turning around to find Hannah Elise standing near the front desk.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Hannah Elise says.
“No—no, not at all.” Belinda straightens her cardigan and crosses the room to be closer to her. “I’m glad you stopped by before things get busy. Change of plan: We’re still having the Sip & Stitch but the bachelors are coming too...”
Hannah Elise looks tense. “Belinda, this is really difficult for me to say, but I have to leave.”
“You mean... out to lunch?”
“No, I mean I have to leave the retreat. I’m really, really sorry.”
“Are you okay?”
In all her years of hosting the retreats she’s never lost an instructor in the middle of a weekend.
“Yes. It’s just... I have an opportunity I can’t pass up. I’ve been recruited by a talent manager and she wants me in New York for a casting—like, now.”
Belinda can’t make sense of what she’s saying. How did this come out of nowhere?
“It’s Sunday. Do you have to respond today?”
“Well, yes—she’s here, actually. And she’ll give me a ride back to the city.”
Hannah Elise rattles off some story about Piper Hodges’s manager. Is that why the woman showed up at the inn? “She wants me to go back with her. I feel terrible about this, but you know I’ve been trying to grow as a knitting influencer, and this will take me to a whole other level.”
Belinda glances at Max, who’s busy fiddling with the sound system wiring and pretending not to listen. But she knows he hears every word. She feels embarrassed for some reason, as if Hannah Elise quitting undermines the value of her entire endeavor. As if it’s a sign that Max is right and she’s holding on to something unreasonably.
