shrugged.
“What plans?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen them.”
“Why do I think this greenhouse is going to be bigger than the inn by the time she’s done?”
“Because you’re a pessimist,” my mom said. “The contractor knows the budget. Your Aunt Tillie can’t deviate from that.”
“Like that will stop her,” I muttered.
“You’re in charge,” my mom reminded me.
“Does Aunt Tillie know that?”
“She does now,” my mom replied, glancing down at her plate evasively.
Oh, great. “And how did she take it?”
“She’s fine with it.”
“Really?”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“I’m calling you a big fat fibber,” I challenged her. “There’s no way Aunt Tillie is fine with me being in charge.”
“You’ve got that right,” Aunt Tillie charged into the dining room. My mouth dropped open in surprise when I saw her. She was wearing work coveralls and a bright pink hardhat. “I’ve decided to make the best of the situation, though.”
“Where did you get a hardhat?”
“This old thing? I’ve had it for years,” Aunt Tillie said dismissively. “Are you done shoving food in your face? The contractor just pulled up outside.”
Even I had to admit that her enthusiasm was kind of cute. “Just a second,” I sighed.
Aunt Tillie was halfway back through the kitchen door when she stopped and turned back to me. “If you get all fat and dumpy – and that’s what’s going to happen if you keep eating like that – then Landon’s not going to want to stay with you.”
She wasn’t so cute anymore. I glanced over at Landon and saw him smiling as he continued to eat. “You think that’s funny?”
“I think this whole family is funny.”
“Give it time,” Thistle grumbled. “By the time this construction project is in full swing, we’re going to be downright hilarious.”
“I can’t wait,” Landon replied with an impish grin and a small wink.
I could.
Seven
An extremely long two hours later, I found myself happy to be away fro m Aunt Tillie and at The Whistler. When my mom had said that Aunt Tillie had plans – she wasn’t kidding. She had drawn up her own blueprints – which had tickled the contractor to no end. When Aunt Tillie was out of earshot, he said he would take her plans home – work on them – and come up with something that was actually feasible. Since I knew absolutely nothing about construction, I decided to leave him to his work.
Once I got to The Whistler , I was busily working my way through a schedule of spring events that had been provided by area businesses when Edith popped into view.
“He’s on the phone again.”
I knew whom she was talking about, but I decided to play the game anyway. “Who?”
“Brian.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s he talking about?”
“He says he’s going to expand The Whistler.”
“I know,” I frowned. “I don’t think he realizes that his plan isn’t really . . . feasible.”
“You don’t think expanding the paper is a good idea?” Edith seemed surprised. “I would think you would jump at that.”
“I don’t think that Hemlock Cove can sustain more than a weekly edition,” I said. “We’re talking about ten thousand people in the immediate area – and most of the locals don’t give a fig about the paper. It’s mostly for the tourists.”
Edith considered what I said. “You’re probably right. Still, though, it could be exciting?”
“Not if he overextends himself and runs the paper into bankruptcy,” I replied.
“Well, that’s definitely true,” Edith said. “Why aren’t you trying to talk to him?”
“He doesn’t want to hear what I have to say,” I said blithely. “I figure he’ll bring in a professional numbers guy and when that guy tells him it’s a bad idea, he’ll listen and I won’t be the bad guy.”
“Well, he’s been on the phone since he got here – hours before you, I might add – and he’s like a kid on Christmas morning he’s so
“What plans?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen them.”
“Why do I think this greenhouse is going to be bigger than the inn by the time she’s done?”
“Because you’re a pessimist,” my mom said. “The contractor knows the budget. Your Aunt Tillie can’t deviate from that.”
“Like that will stop her,” I muttered.
“You’re in charge,” my mom reminded me.
“Does Aunt Tillie know that?”
“She does now,” my mom replied, glancing down at her plate evasively.
Oh, great. “And how did she take it?”
“She’s fine with it.”
“Really?”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“I’m calling you a big fat fibber,” I challenged her. “There’s no way Aunt Tillie is fine with me being in charge.”
“You’ve got that right,” Aunt Tillie charged into the dining room. My mouth dropped open in surprise when I saw her. She was wearing work coveralls and a bright pink hardhat. “I’ve decided to make the best of the situation, though.”
“Where did you get a hardhat?”
“This old thing? I’ve had it for years,” Aunt Tillie said dismissively. “Are you done shoving food in your face? The contractor just pulled up outside.”
Even I had to admit that her enthusiasm was kind of cute. “Just a second,” I sighed.
Aunt Tillie was halfway back through the kitchen door when she stopped and turned back to me. “If you get all fat and dumpy – and that’s what’s going to happen if you keep eating like that – then Landon’s not going to want to stay with you.”
She wasn’t so cute anymore. I glanced over at Landon and saw him smiling as he continued to eat. “You think that’s funny?”
“I think this whole family is funny.”
“Give it time,” Thistle grumbled. “By the time this construction project is in full swing, we’re going to be downright hilarious.”
“I can’t wait,” Landon replied with an impish grin and a small wink.
I could.
Seven
An extremely long two hours later, I found myself happy to be away fro m Aunt Tillie and at The Whistler. When my mom had said that Aunt Tillie had plans – she wasn’t kidding. She had drawn up her own blueprints – which had tickled the contractor to no end. When Aunt Tillie was out of earshot, he said he would take her plans home – work on them – and come up with something that was actually feasible. Since I knew absolutely nothing about construction, I decided to leave him to his work.
Once I got to The Whistler , I was busily working my way through a schedule of spring events that had been provided by area businesses when Edith popped into view.
“He’s on the phone again.”
I knew whom she was talking about, but I decided to play the game anyway. “Who?”
“Brian.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s he talking about?”
“He says he’s going to expand The Whistler.”
“I know,” I frowned. “I don’t think he realizes that his plan isn’t really . . . feasible.”
“You don’t think expanding the paper is a good idea?” Edith seemed surprised. “I would think you would jump at that.”
“I don’t think that Hemlock Cove can sustain more than a weekly edition,” I said. “We’re talking about ten thousand people in the immediate area – and most of the locals don’t give a fig about the paper. It’s mostly for the tourists.”
Edith considered what I said. “You’re probably right. Still, though, it could be exciting?”
“Not if he overextends himself and runs the paper into bankruptcy,” I replied.
“Well, that’s definitely true,” Edith said. “Why aren’t you trying to talk to him?”
“He doesn’t want to hear what I have to say,” I said blithely. “I figure he’ll bring in a professional numbers guy and when that guy tells him it’s a bad idea, he’ll listen and I won’t be the bad guy.”
“Well, he’s been on the phone since he got here – hours before you, I might add – and he’s like a kid on Christmas morning he’s so
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