Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“I can’t if you keep putting more food on the plate.” Hugging my stomach, I wince at the thought of taking another bite. “I’m so stuffed I can’t eat anymore.” I take one more bite, though, just to make sure. Yeah, I’m done.
“But sausage is your favorite.” I love how she acts so surprised that I can’t eat two pancakes, scrambled eggs, fruit, two links, and then two more.
I’ve been known to be a breakfast-food fanatic, but this is too much. “Even I have my limits, Dolly. Save some for the others.”
“Muffins are coming out of the oven for Fall, bacon is ready for Winter, and biscuits are rising for Spring since we all know she won’t be up for another hour.”
The urgency of my morning whips through my veins, so I stand, tug the hem of my blue dress down to where it’s supposed to hit mid-thigh, and collect my plate. “And she’ll need another hour to get ready.” I transport the links to a napkin to take with me because these won’t go to waste. I’ll eat them later. We’re not part of the clean-plate club around here, but if I finish anything, it’s going to be those.
I move to the sink to rinse my plate.
Wiping her hands on a dish towel, she asks, “Why are you rushing off so early on a Saturday morning anyway? Weekends are for rest, walks of shame, and causing a little chaos. Not work.”
I choke out a laugh, wishing she wouldn’t say things like that when I have an overfull stomach. My grandmother has always staggered through life as an unabashed black sheep, with a reputation that my sisters and I can’t quite determine was rightfully earned or pinned on her by Mountain Laurel Cove’s long history with my family. She’s been raising us in her carefree spirit ways since our parents passed away ten years ago. The town only turned toward us instead of away, accepting us with open arms they didn’t always hold for Dolly.
Give her a little attention and power, and she’s either going to be a total menace or a legend around the Cove. Depends on the day, I suppose.
Sometimes I wonder if she’s disappointed that I turned out so straitlaced. Sure, there was a little fun over the years, but being the oldest of four orphaned girls came with responsibilities I wasn’t prepared for, even if I wasn’t responsible for the bills. So, I haven’t done any walks of shame, but it doesn’t mean I don’t wish I’d had the opportunity. Maybe I didn’t fall so far from my grandmother’s tree after all.
I grin. “I’m happy to have the steady income. After I recommended that Mrs. Dover raise the cottages’ rates last winter—quite significantly, I might add—we haven’t had a shortage of renters. So that paid off.”
“When is she going to let you have those cottages? You’ve been running that business for four years now, increased her profits, and taken care of every renter to come through there. Seems the old coot would be ready to retire.” Mrs. Dover and Dolly never really saw eye to eye, but again, who has with Dolly? She knows everyone’s buttons to push and has jammed them her entire life.
“She’s been retired for years. She just owns those properties to keep money coming in. And I don’t want both. I’m not greedy. I only want the Cove Cottage.”
Her eyes level with mine. “She and that cheating husband of hers made plenty of money in this lifetime. They need to sell you the property next door so you can make some too, especially since you’re the reason those properties are bringing in money anyhow.”
“We shouldn’t speak ill of the—”
“MacKenny Dover died in Mistress Annie’s barn loft. Underneath Annie, I might add.” I try not to cackle at her calling Annie Dumplin, Mistress Annie, but fail, and a giggle escapes. There’s never been a grudge Dolly didn’t hold on to, and Annie did her dirty when they were cheerleaders back in high school. No way am I sticking around for that story again, though. She’ll talk about it until the tides go out tonight if I let her.
“Dragging up ancient history isn’t going to get my name on the titles of those properties. But you know what will?” I glance up through the window in front of me to watch the waves sweep onto the edge of our land and then back to deeper waters again.
“Begging?”
Glancing at Dolly, I smile. “Yes, begging. I’m going to try that since I’ll have more free time and a bonus for renting out Cove Cottage for the summer. I don’t have to check different people in and out every week for the next three months. There will be no new welcome baskets to deliver to guests. I won’t have to deal with all the things that come with managing a hospitality business, other than occasionally checking on them. This is going to be a breeze. I’ll have to find new ways to spend my spare time. One will be the presentation for Mrs. Dover, I know that much. I can put the bonus money down as collateral for my intent to keep the property in the family. The Mountain Laurel Cove Family, that is.” I scrape the food scraps into the trash. “And in the meantime, you’ll get sick of seeing my face.”