Doctor Arkwright's advice for Emily to stay off her feet and reduce her stress levels to the bare minimum went immediately out the window, because Memorial Day weekend arrived all too soon and the inn was packed to the rafters.
Emily hurried down the stairs into the foyer, where guests were milling about in groups. The inn was looking beautiful thanks to Chantelle's decorations. She'd filled the place with flags. Posters for the town parade adorned every wall. It looked set to be the best event yet. Mayor Hansen had really gone above and beyond this year, with an antique fire truck procession, the marching band from the high school, and a twenty-one-gun salute at the end. Emily was glad he'd organized such a great commemoration for the men and women who'd given their lives for the country's freedom.
Lois and Marnie were on the front desk, both looking rushed off their feet as they took calls and answered guest queries. Ever since Bryony's redesign of the website had led to the inn being booked for the entire summer, Emily had had to shuffle things around. Serena wanted less work so she could focus more on her degree, so Emily had promoted Marnie from maid to front of house. Then she'd hired the Magic Elves cleaning company that Amy had sourced for the wedding to fill the void left by Marnie, and had gone on to employ an extra pair of hands in the form of a porter, a young man named Trent, whose role was to carry bags upstairs for the guests on check in. Despite the hecticness, it looked like the new system was working well. For now, at least.
Emily caught up with Bryony in the guest lounge. Her laptop was resting on her knees, a pile of half drunk cups of coffee stacked on the coffee table before her. Usually there were only ever one or two people in the guest lounge, but today every single table and couch was occupied with people drinking coffee and juice, reading papers, studying maps, and planning their days out.
"I know I say this every time I see you," Emily said to Bryony as she sat beside her, "but seriously, thank you so much for everything you've done for the inn. I've never seen it like this."
Bryony smiled. "No problem. I just can't wait until you get all the renovation work done for the expansion. It'll give me a whole load of new coding to do. New forms. New pages." Her eyes glittered with excitement.
"You really love this stuff, don't you?" Emily said, feeling baffled herself. She'd worked in marketing for years back in New York City and hated it now with every fiber of her being.
Bryony wiggled her eyebrows. "I love it. Plus, I get to see all the mysterious guests who book in. Look at this one." She swiveled her laptop around to show Emily the accommodation spreadsheet which was automatically populated by website bookings through the magic wizardry of computer code. "The carriage house has been booked out by Mr. X. I'm hoping he's another Roman Westbrook."
Emily raised her eyebrows, excited also. "Or a James Bond villain."
Just then, a group of three men walked into the inn. They were all wearing beige slacks and polo shirts, and had varying shades of gray hair. Emily noticed then that each had a large roll of paper under their arms and realized that they weren't some kind of traveling barbershop quartet but the architects from Erik & Sons, with their initial sketches for renovating Trevor's house.
She and Daniel had approached a local family firm, hoping they'd have a more sympathetic approach. As she leaped up now and walked toward them, she realized by their eerily similar appearances that they were the "& Sons" contingent. She shook each of their hands, blinking, feeling like she was looking at the same person three times over.
"We're triplets," the man with the lightest gray hair explained. "I'm Wayne. This is Cain. And that's Shane, the youngest by five minutes."
"My chances of remembering whose name belongs to who are more or less zero," Emily confessed.
"We don't mind," Wayne Erik continued. "We've had fifty-five years of being confused with each other. If we had a problem with it, we probably wouldn't dress the same."
He grinned, indicating their matching Erik & Sons navy blue polo shirts.
"Please," Emily said, "let us go and find somewhere quiet where we can spread these out. I know we're meeting for a tour of the house later today, but I'm so happy to take a look at these now."
She led them from the bustling foyer and into the empty dining room, whereby the Erik triplets unrolled their sketches onto the large walnut table.
Emily peered down at the designs, one scroll per floor of the house. The plans looked phenomenal, grand and rather exciting. But seeing Trevor's house pared down to lines and measurements on pieces of paper felt so odd to her, so unpleasant and final. She felt herself getting choked up.
"I'm sorry," she stammered, as tears suddenly sprung into her eyes. "The house belonged to my late friend. I still haven't gotten my head around the fact he's gone."
"It was Trevor Mann's house, wasn't it?" Wayne asked, softly.
"Yes," Emily said, dabbing her tears with her shirt sleeve. "Did you know him?"
"Of course," Cain confirmed. "Mr. Mann was on the zoning board so we had a lot of contact with him. He was quite a guy."
Emily could tell from the way he said it that he was being polite about the fact that Trevor was a difficult person to get along with.
"He was a curmudgeonly old so-and-so, I know," Emily said with a wistful smile. "He hated me at first. But we were great friends by the end."
The Erik brothers look at her kindly.
"We'll leave the plans with you," Wayne explained. "Then we'll talk more when we go through the house later."
"Thank you," Emily said, glad that she and Daniel had chosen to go with this firm. That they were local and knew Trevor Mann was immensely reassuring. But something about Wayne Erik's kindness made her tears come more readily. She flushed with embarrassment as she found herself suddenly unable to stop them streaming down her cheeks.
"I'm also pregnant," she confessed with a shy giggle. "The hormones are making me crazy."
The Erik triplets reassured her that she had nothing to apologize for. They left the plans with her so she and Daniel could look over them at a less hormonal moment and Emily told them she'd see them later that day.
Just then Chantelle ran into the room. Yvonne must have just dropped her home following her sleep-over with Bailey.
"Mommy!" she cried, running toward Emily and throwing her arms around her neck. She bestowed kisses onto her cheeks. "Wait, why are you crying?" she asked, moving away.
Emily wiped the tears away. "Pregnancy hormones," she said in a hushed voice. Then she put a finger to her lips.
"Our secret," Chantelle said with a nod. She jumped up off Emily's lap. "When does the Memorial Day Parade start?"
Emily checked the time. "Not long now. Once Daddy's back from the store we can all go together."
Chantelle clapped her hands. She loved a parade, and anything where she got to spend time with her friends.
Emily, too, was excited. Not just because she loved the memorial parade, but because Amy was in Sunset Harbor at the moment visiting her new boyfriend, Harry, the younger brother of Daniel's friend George. So far, Amy had kept him completely to herself. Emily was growing increasingly curious about meeting him. In fact, she'd only seen him once, before Amy had revealed they were dating, and just fleetingly. She couldn't even remember what he looked like, other than boyish. Amy was clearly in the beginning throes of lust because she'd been keeping her relationship very private, just as she had done with Fraser. Amy had a habit of not wanting any external sources to influence her relationship decisions. It had taken ages for Emily to get Amy to relent to introducing Harry, reminding Amy that she hadn't let her vet Fraser and that had ended disastrously. Amy had finally agreed that the parade was a suitable place for them to have an actual conversation, and now the time had finally arrived for Emily to meet the man who had managed to change Amy's mind about her little old town so thoroughly. She couldn't wait!
Maybe Harry was Amy's The One?
*
As expected, the town was packed with all the locals and many tourists out in force to show their respect to the troops of yore. In fact, Emily was certain she'd never seen Sunset Harbor this busy. It felt as if the place had changed quite a bit in the time she'd lived here. It wasn't as sleepy anymore.
"Is it me, or are there more people here than usual?" Daniel asked her, as they strolled along together hand in hand.
"I was just thinking the same thing," Emily said, looking about her to see if she could spot Amy and Harry anywhere in the crowd.
Just then, they saw Karen from the convenience store up ahead. They walked toward her and she turned as they drew up to her side. She hugged them all, thrilled to see them as always.
"It's so busy, isn't it?" she exclaimed, echoing their sentiments.
"More so than usual," Emily agreed.
"It's because of Roman Westbrook," Karen said, and she pointed to the other side of the road where the famous singer was waiting to watch the parade. Her eyes sparkled with excitement at the presence of the pop star on their humble streets.
Roman was standing with an entourage, something that he hadn't needed before. Emily realized that someone must have blabbed to the papers about him moving here, and she couldn't help but feel disappointed to know that word had gotten to the press so quickly. He'd been trying to keep his move here a secret to keep his privacy for as long as possible.
Emily, Chantelle, and Daniel all waved at him warmly when he looked over and saw them. Karen's eyes widened.
"You're friends?" she asked.
Emily nodded. "Even famous people chat with their neighbors, you know." Then she added, "I do hope these people aren't just here to catch a glimpse of Roman. It feels a bit…I don't know…disrespectful…to come to a memorial parade just to catch a glimpse of your favorite singer."
"It's nothing to do with Roman," Cynthia said, turning around from where she stood in front of them. Somehow, despite her neon orange hair, Emily had failed to notice her standing there with her son, Jeremy.
"What's it to do with then?" Emily asked.
"The inn!" Cynthia exclaimed. "Obviously."
Emily shook her head. "I don't think so."
But Cynthia was hearing none of it. "Believe me. After Colin Magnus wrote his article on the inn people have been buzzing about it on all the travel forums. Someone suggested Memorial weekend was a good time to visit because the parade is always so amazing. And, ba-da-boom, this is what you get."
Emily frowned, still unsure that the increase in patrons could be because of her humble inn. It was true that she'd had more bookings thanks to Colin's article. Coupled with Bryony, the marketer extraordinaire, perhaps it was conceivable that her inn could make this kind of impact on the town.
Emily let the news sink in and found herself grinning. She was shocked that her little inn could be helping to put Sunset Harbor on the map, but it was a good feeling. She felt proud of her achievements.
Just then, Emily noticed a familiar face in the crowd. It was Amy, looking suave in a casual black ensemble. She was holding hands with the boyishly good-looking Harry. From a distance they looked like a bit of an odd pair. Amy looked like she'd been lifted straight off the pages of Vogue magazine, whereas Harry was dressed more modestly. But he had a film star look about him and Emily could imagine the two of them looking very handsome together in formal attire. Emily was in no doubt that Amy would manage to change his whole sense of fashion within a matter of weeks.
"It's them," she said to Daniel, tugging on his sleeve with excitement.
She felt her stomach flip with anticipation. She wasn't entirely sure why but something felt different this time; the ease with which Amy stood beside him, the display of affection from their simple handholding which was something Amy usually resisted. There was a happiness exuding from Amy that Emily had not noticed ever before. Her excitement at getting to know Harry grew even more.
Just then, Chantelle noticed who Emily had pointed out.
"Amy!" she cried.
Ever since the bachelorette party, Chantelle had decided she liked Amy, and had gotten over their initial rocky introduction when she'd thought Amy and Jayne were New York snobs.
As Chantelle careened toward Amy, Amy turned and bent down just in time to catch Chantelle in her arms. Looking a little surprised, she straightened up and twirled the little girl in a circle, somehow managing to keep her balance in her chic black heels.
Daniel and Emily wended their way through the crowds as Amy popped Chantelle back down on her feet. They stopped beside her and Amy became instantly red.
Emily hugged her friend tightly. Then, as she released her from the embrace, she caught her eye and wiggled her eyebrows.
Amy's blush deepened. "Em, Daniel, this is Harry. Harry, my best friend Emily and her husband, Daniel."
Daniel shook Harry's hand. "We've met before," he explained. "I'm an old friend of George's."
"Of course!" Harry said, his eyes widening with surprise. "But it was a long time ago now."
Daniel nodded. "I spent some years in Tennessee."
Chantelle looked up at Harry and beamed then. "That's where I get my accent from," she said.
Harry smiled at her, seemingly taken by her spirit. Emily noticed his fingers re-entwining with Amy's. She felt a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Behind them, the flag parade streamed past. Then the thirty-strong marching band started, blaring out "Hail to the Spirit of Liberty" in trumpets, French horns, and woodwinds. The crowd surged toward the road to get a better look.
"Do you come to the parade often?" Emily asked Harry as people filtered past her. She was eager to know more about him.
"Of course, every year," Harry explained. "We come from military ancestry. Both on our mom's side and on our dad's side. So it means a lot to both George and I."
Emily wanted to speak to him further but the band was fast approaching and the noise was too great. She fell silent and watched them, thinking, as she was here to do, of all the fallen men and women.
At last the band passed, but the noise didn't lessen because hot on their heels came the antique fire truck procession, their bells clanging. It was a long stream of them, not just fire trucks but old military tanks, too, clanking and rattling along the road on caterpillar treads. It was quite a sight to behold. And with the heaving crowds, it felt very loud and chaotic. Emily wondered if her overwhelmed feeling was partly from the pregnancy hormones heightening her senses.
"We have to follow them to the park now," Chantelle said, grabbing Emily's hand. " That's where they're doing the gun salute. Quick! I don't want to miss it!"
She tugged, and Emily followed her. The huge crowd of people who'd been watching streamed into the park. Emily felt like she was in a river of people flowing along the streets, caught in a current. It was a somewhat claustrophobic feeling. The only thing grounding her was Chantelle's hand squeezing hers tightly.
She looked around, searching for Daniel, Amy, and Harry. She caught sight of them being herded along with the flow of people. Harry was looking adoringly at Amy, a protective arm around her shoulders. Her expression was serene, as though she were completely lost in her happiness. Emily smiled again, realizing that Amy was completely smitten. She couldn't wait to learn more about Harry once the noise and furor had died down.
As the crowds reached the park and dispersed, the others caught up with them. They huddled around the group of military personnel in uniforms, who had their guns pointed to the sky. Emily felt a sudden sense of anxiety at the thought of the loud noise. Though she knew it was perfectly safe she couldn't help but worry now, knowing that it was more than her own safety that mattered. The power of her maternal instinct to protect her unborn child almost took her by surprise.
"Let's stand a little way back," she said aloud, hovering a foot or so behind the crowds, trying to take a step backward.
"But I can't see," Chantelle complained. She bobbed up and down on her tiptoes, frowning, eager to get nearer to the action.
"Daniel, can you take her closer?" Emily asked, finally staggering back enough to be beside the benches. She gripped the back of one to steady herself as a panicky sensation swept through her.
"But I want us to go to the front together," Chantelle said, her voice verging on whining.
Daniel knelt down and looked Chantelle in the eye. Emily overheard him say in a hushed voice, "Remember our secret? Emily needs to be here, at the back. So either you come to the front with just me, or we all stay together. You can climb on the bench or get on my shoulders if you want a better view."
Chantelle wasn't to be convinced. She folded her arms petulantly and pouted.
"I didn't know the baby meant we wouldn't be able to have fun anymore," she grumbled.
Emily tensed. Not because she was worried about Harry and Amy overhearing-she was certain with the volume of chatter they wouldn't be able to pick Chantelle's voice out of the crowd-but because she felt bad to have dampened Chantelle's spirits. She didn't want there to be any competition or animosity between Chantelle and the new baby. It mattered to her greatly that they had a harmonious family life. She hoped this was just a moment of teething problems, something that wouldn't grow.
"Chantelle," Daniel warned, clearly not impressed with her attitude.
Suddenly, the guns started firing. The noise was immense. Emily covered her ears with her hands, alarmed and exhilarated by the sheer volume. The crowd was stunned into silence as the explosive sound cracked through the sky. It felt as if everyone was gasping collectively.
Then the firing stopped and everyone began to clap and cheer.
Amy turned to face them, her eyes bright with exhilaration. "Wow, that was awesome," she beamed.
Emily nodded, glad to see Amy had enjoyed her small-town parade experience. But she still hadn't had a chance to speak to Harry and she was desperate to know more about him.
"We should all go and get lunch," Emily suggested.
Even though Emily was feeling a little nauseous and the idea of lunch made her stomach turn, she didn't want Amy to hurry off with Harry and deny her the chance to speak to him properly.
Chantelle cheered up instantly at the suggestion. Everyone agreed it was a good idea.
As they left the crowds behind and ambled slowly along the roads, Emily wondered how well she'd be able to refrain from blurting out the news of her pregnancy to her closest friend. But then she realized that Amy would likely guess all on her own. Not just because she was intuitive but because all it would probably take was for Emily to turn down a glass of wine for her to guess. She felt a sudden sense of excitement as she realized that very soon someone she dearly loved would be party to her news.
She couldn't wait to see Amy's reaction.
