Get it together, Agent Davis.“Yes. Married just over three years now.”
“But you don’t live together?”
I got this. “We didn’t because I was traveling for work, assigned to various offices as a government liaison. But I just retired, so now I can help her with this place.”
“Ah.” Sebastian nods. “That explains why she’s planning to do some remodeling. She mentioned she’s redoing all the rooms after we leave. She was worried we wouldn’t be comfortable. But the Sunflower is awesome. I love staying here.”
“More than with Gabe and Katherine?” His mom nudges him. There didn’t seem to be any animosity around the fact that strangers basically took over raising her kid.
“As much. And way better than Florida.”
His mom smiles at him, but it doesn’t meet her eyes. “That’s only because you don’t appreciate a good beach.”
“I’ll take snow over sand anytime.” Sebastian stuffs his mouth with a blueberry muffin.
His mom opens her mouth, closes it, and drops her gaze, a hint of red washing up her neck. The banter is clearly a conversation they’ve had multiple times and is coded for everything wrong in their relationship. I have to throw her a life preserver and redirect the conversation from their weathered argument. “What are you two doing today? Amy said you’re going back to school soon?”
“Yep, Mom flies out Tuesday night,” Sebastian replies.
“We’re going to the outlets so I can get him some clothes. You’re welcome to join us,” his mom offers politely.
A scowl settles on Sebastian’s face. “It’s a long drive. And I don’t really need anything.”
A day of shopping sounds like torture. But the drive will give the young man and his mom time together, so I see her point. “I’m sure I’ll have a honey-do list. And I still need to get my car. But you two have fun.”
I quickly finish breakfast and clear our dishes.
“What are you doing?” Amy asks as I stack the scraped plates in the sink and roll up my sleeves.
“Helping my wife with our business.”
She doesn’t argue. Instead, she returns to the dining room. There is a certain delight in her eye as she stacks up the cups, silverware, and everything else. It’s not like I’m turning into Cinderella. The place has a dishwasher, which I quickly load. We finish at nearly the same time. Once the food is stored, dining room tidied, and guests are out the door for a day of tourism, we face off in the kitchen.
“About that divorce,” she says at the same time I ask, “What’s this about a remodel?”
She crosses her arms. “The rooms need to be updated. It’s been three years.”
It’s been three years since I bought this place for her. She’d always dreamed of being a B and B owner if she wasn’t a CPA. Buying this property as her husband was one of the things I could do for her. “I can help.”
“You want to help me paint and replace mattresses?”
“I’m here. It’s our property,Mrs.Davis. I think I should help.”
I can see the moment she realizes divorce could mean selling this place to split the assets of the marriage. Not that I would take it from her, but she doesn’t know that.
“In fact, we should probably review the books. I’d like to see the reservation software you installed. Since I’ll be here, I can help with the bookings.” And get an idea if any suspicious people have been guests recently. I lean back against the counter, cross my arms, and wait.
“Fine.” She swipes a tendril of hair that escaped from her ponytail, and the gold band on her hand flashes in the light. “But after I clean the guest rooms.”
I stand. “Perfect. I’ll help. And when we finish, you can take me to retrieve my rental.”
Her huff of frustration as she spins and marches out of the room has me chuckling. Changing a few sheets and scrubbing a toilet won’t make me abandon her. I’m not going anywhere until I know she’s safe. “We should probably talk about a long-term plan.”
“What do you mean?” She hands me a stack of towels from a linen cupboard.
They smell like cedar and lavender. It’s not a soft scent, not fancy, and not even unusual. But perfectly balanced and appealing. Just like Amy.
“I think we should change your identity again and hide you someplace new that not even the marshals know about.” Somewhere nobody but me knows about. I follow her into a guest room. She takes the towels, her hands brushing mine.
