“Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon.”
“Oh, we plan to. Trust me. The man replied with a glint in his eyes as she stared at his wife, whose cheeks had become noticeably red.
After the couple left, Andrea decided to head up to the second floor to the room they had been occupying. The room, like almost all the others in the inn, was simple and old-fashioned, maintaining the authenticity of the colonial architecture. She quickly stripped the bed of the sheets and duvet and brought them down to the washroom. The assistant they’d hired after promoting Marg to Assistant Manager would come in later to clean and prepare the room for occupancy by a future guest.
Just as she exited the washroom and headed for the reception area, Ben and Marg appeared, the latter sporting a cast over her wrist and part way up her forearm.
“Is it broken?” she asked worriedly.
“It’s a small hairline fracture. I’m okay. The doctor says I should keep the cast on to keep it from straining too much while it heals.
“Oh, okay. I’m happy it wasn’t more than that,” Andrea responded, relieved.
“Yeah. Me too. What happened while I was away?” she asked.
“Oh, not much. A few of our guests have gone in the town, a couple checked out, and three more are scheduled to check out by the end of this week.
“That’s good. When are Rory’s guests scheduled to arrive?”
“The week after Thanksgiving,” Andrea informed her.
“Good. By then, all our current guests will have checked out,” Marg responded, nodding her head contemplatively.
“Have you made any plans for Thanksgiving?” Andrea asked.
Marg looked over at Ben, her eyes shining bright as a smile graced her lips.
“Ben asked me to share Thanksgiving with him and his children,” Marg informed her.
“Oh,” Andrea responded, turning her questioning gaze at Ben. “I thought you were coming over for Thanksgiving.”
Ben gave her a sheepish smile as he scratched the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about that, Drea. I just wanted to have a small, private Thanksgiving with her and the kids so that they could get to know each other more,” he replied apologetically.
“Why don’t we have our little private Thanksgiving a little earlier and then go over to the family gathering? Kill two birds with one stone.” Marg suggested.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Ben agreed.
“It’s fine if you guys can’t make it. You deserve this time together,” Andrea assured them.
“Thanks, Drea,” Marg spoke, her tone full of gratitude.
“Not a problem.”
After another couple of hours, staying to help Marg, Andrea left for the main house to prepare for her date with Donny.
ChapterSeventeen
Andrea stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her light brown hair lay flat against her head. She wasn’t sure how she wanted it.
There was a knock at her door followed by, “Mom?”
“Come in, sweetie,” she invited her daughter.
Andrea turned to Rory, her lips downturned like a lost puppy.
“Up or down?” she asked, using her hands to swoop her hair up in one before releasing it to fall back in place against her head.
Rory tapped her chin contemplatively before replying, “Up. It’ll bring more attention to your face, especially your eyes…you have really pretty eyes.”
