Breakfast at the Beach House Hotel Read online

  I pushed aside the lingering doubts that rubbed my mind raw, dressed in my frothy skirt and a sleeveless top, and went downstairs. The girls had set the dining room table. Crystal water goblets, white wine glasses, and sparkling silverware lay at each place atop the white damask tablecloth.

  My mouth watered as I slid onto the plush dining room chair Rhonda indicated for me. Tantalizing aromas had wafted from the kitchen all afternoon. She left and reappeared with a golden brown turkey on a huge platter.

  “It looks wonderful, Rhonda,” I gushed. Her cooking was great.

  “Thanks.” She set the platter down, then handed me an opened bottle of white wine. “How about taking care of this, Annie? Just make sure you fill mine to the top.” Her lips curved impishly. “Leave a little for yourself.”

  Relieved to be able to do something useful at last, I accepted the bottle and poured the wine out just as the girls finished carrying in the side dishes.

  We ate in peaceful silence, each morsel of food worth every calorie.

  “I hope Kandie burned their turkey,” Liz said out of the blue, and we all laughed. Kandie, the twit, couldn’t even heat up something properly in a microwave.

  Rhonda raised her wine glass. “Here’s to us!”

  We clicked glasses and smiled at each other before sipping our wine, well aware of the pain each of us had endured.

  At the end of the meal, I took the last bite of my pumpkin pie and dabbed my mouth with my napkin. The girls hastily excused themselves and bolted to meet some of Angie’s friends. Sipping coffee, Rhonda and I remained at the table. There was still so much I didn’t know about her. With the girls around, we hadn’t had much time alone with each other.

  “Everything was scrumptious,” I said, meaning every word. The woman was a whiz in the kitchen.

  She grinned. “It’s something creative for me to do. And I have to tell ya, I get bored easily. With Angie away, it’s hard for me to fill my days—other than ladies’ lunches and that type of thing.” She leaned forward. “How about you, Annie? What keeps you busy with Liz away at school?”

  “Well, recently I’ve been struggling with the divorce.” A long sigh escaped me. All the changes in my life suddenly felt like a blow to the belly. “In the past, I’ve helped Robert with our business—consulting for companies regarding their benefit plans. And I’ve done volunteer work at the local library. Now, I need to find a place to live. Then, I’ll have to find work elsewhere to bring in money; I can’t trust Robert’s support to last. He’s promising to make things easy, but I’m sure it’s just to keep things simple while he and Kandie set up housekeeping.”

  “Yeah? What kind of work will you look for?”

  Rhonda’s interest encouraged me. “I’m not sure. I’ve been very much a part of Robert’s consulting practice, but it was more or less in the background. I don’t know if I’ll be able to convert that into a paying job.”

  She gazed at me thoughtfully. “Something will work out, hon.”

  More comfortable with her now, I blurted out, “After all those years with Robert, I thought my life was settled.” I shook my head. “Delivering the news, he was so darn smug. It was bad enough that he’d been fooling around, but, with Kandie? If it weren’t so painful, it would be laughable. It’s such a typical story—the boss and the bimbo.” Tears stung my eyes. “He all but crowed like a rooster when he told me Kandie was pregnant, and they were going to be married as soon as possible. I’ve always wanted more children, but it never worked out.”

  Rhonda clucked her tongue. “That’s terrible. I thought I was all settled too. Sal and I started out together in high school. Who knew things would get so screwed up?” She rose. “Come on, Annie. It’s a beautiful evening, and we can talk some more outside.”

  I followed Rhonda outside.

  She stopped and turned to me. “Men are bastards, aren’t they? Let’s have an after-dinner drink and toast them, ’cause, bad as they are, I want ’em around.”

  I wasn’t at all sure I’d ever feel that way again. I just wanted to succeed at whatever I chose to do as a single woman, proving to Robert and everyone else I could do very well on my own.

  Drinks in hand, we stretched out on long, comfortable chaises by the pool. The early evening air, full of the tang of salt was pleasant as gentle, onshore breezes whispered by us.

  “What is your ex like?” I asked. No further mention had been made of him by either Rhonda or Angie.

  “Sal? He was a skinny little kid, a real loner in my neighborhood at the Jersey Shore, where we grew up. My brother, Richie, used to bring him home for supper now and then because he lived with his mother, and she worked late. We married right after I graduated from high school. My father wasn’t going to put up with Sal just hanging around me, you understand. Not if he wanted to be part of our family’s business.” She smiled dreamily. “Sal was a really good lover, and we were happy—living in Jersey, working in my family’s butcher shop.”

  “What happened?”

  “You don’t know?” Rhonda sat up in her chair and faced me with a broad grin. “One hundred eighty- seven million dollars is what happened. That’s what!”

  Shocked, I rolled to a sitting position.

  “Sal and I put aside some money for a vacation in Miami Beach,” she explained. “I bought a lottery ticket there. ‘No way you’re gonna win, Rhonda,’ Sal tells me. But I’ve got a feeling I just might. ‘If I win, it’s all mine,’ I tell him. Sure enough, that Saturday night, they called out my numbers. Sal just sits there like a dummy while I shriek my lungs out. I tell him I’m sick and tired of the cold weather up north, that I want to give the butcher shop to my brother Richie, and come live in Florida.”

  Rhonda’s smile disappeared, replaced by a hurt look I understood all too well. “Money turned Sal into a real asshole. We left the family business, came to Florida, and bought this house, thinking it would be fun to fix it up together and turn it back into a hotel. But he wasn’t interested in that. Not really.”

  She let out a sigh that spoke volumes. “One day, he announced he was moving to Palm Beach with a young girl he’d met in Fort Myers. Guess those girls saw dollar signs when he drove them past the house, ’cause he let everybody think he had all the money. But, he didn’t; I’d been advised by my brother’s lawyer to keep all of it in my name, in a trust. Sal told me he didn’t care; he’d take enough money to live well, that he just wanted out of the marriage so he could be with someone young and new.”

  I recognized the haunted look in Rhonda’s eyes and reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Rhonda. I really am.” I knew very well how much that hurt.

  “Me, too. It sucks, don’t it?”

  I couldn’t stop a giggle. All of a sudden, we were laughing together, letting out our pain and sorrow in great, gulping guffaws.

  Rhonda leaned over and flung an arm around me. “Ah, Annie, you’re not as bad as I thought.”

  My heart warmed. They were the nicest words anyone had said to me in a very long time.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Perhaps because I dreaded what awaited me, the flight home seemed to take no time at all. Too soon, the captain announced preparations for landing. Determined to be strong in the days ahead, I gathered my things—the next few weeks would not be easy. The gray, gloomy weather outside added to my sense of unease.

  The girls and I collected our luggage and took a cab to my home in Wellesley, where the driver unceremoniously dumped us and our bags onto the front walkway of the large house I’d always loved. Robert had inherited the house from his parents, but I’d always thought of it as mine. I now understood what a huge mistake that was.

  I stood a moment observing the house’s height and the Colonial design that had always given me a sense of stability. Sitting so settled on the expansive lawn, it seemed to mock me for thinking I’d live all my days there, protected within its walls from the vagaries of life. The new owners didn’t want to move in until after the holidays and a winter
vacation, but it still didn’t give me much time to undo the house I’d lived in for almost sixteen years.

  The next day the girls returned to school, leaving me with a reality I abhorred. I scoured ads in the newspaper, but each time I read about an apartment or townhouse complex, my spirits plummeted, and I was unable to follow through with calls.

  The holidays came and went in an emotional blur. Kandie had declared she wouldn’t accept second-hand furniture, so Robert told me to do whatever I wanted with the furnishings in the house; Kandie and he would have all-new, modern furniture as she wanted. Trying to ignore the memories that seeped from every room, I sorted through closets and drawers, preparing to downsize. I still hadn’t decided where I wanted to live.

  Time dragged and sped up, like a clock whose internal workings had gone haywire. My life, which had seemed so steady and fulfilling, passed in aching loneliness. The friends I once thought would stand by me started to fade away as their weekends and social times were filled with other married couples. My desire to stay close by the neighborhood disappeared, which made my search for living quarters harder.

  Surprisingly, Rhonda called every few days, just to say hi. I’d come to understand that her outspoken manner hid a heart of gold and began to enjoy those calls. I think she was lonely too. I hoped, as she did, that she’d find a good man someday. She was a woman who liked having people around her.

  One night, I lay in bed staring blankly at a silly reality show on TV. Worry wove through me. I hadn’t found a new home, and until I did, I wasn’t going to look for a job. Working with Robert was no longer an option.

  The phone rang, jarring me out of my whirling, negative thoughts.

  “Hi, Annie! It’s Rhonda! I didn’t catch you in bed, did I? With a man, I mean?” She laughed at her own joke.

  I shook my head and chuckled. Rhonda was Rhonda. Only she would say something as outrageous as that.

  “Too bad, doll,” Rhonda said, catching her breath. “No problem. I’ve got something to take your mind off men—for a while, anyway. I want you to fly down here as soon as you can. We’ve gotta talk.”

  “Rhonda, I can’t just pick up and fly down to Florida at a moment’s notice. I’ve got to find a place to live.”

  “That’s why we gotta talk. I’m not going to say anything more until you get here. I’ll have my travel agent order you a ticket. How soon can you come?”

  “Oh, Rhonda, I don’t know ... how can I?”

  “Come on! It’s beautiful here—sunny and in the low 80’s. What do you say? I’m not going to give up until you say yes.”

  I knew from my past experiences with her that Rhonda wouldn’t quit bugging me until I agreed to come. My impatience with her usual pushiness fled. What was the worst thing that could happen to me if I went to Florida for a few days?

  ###

  Two days later, I sat aboard a flight to Ft. Myers, still amazed at myself for accepting Rhonda’s challenge. But then, my whole life had turned upside down. Who was going to stop me from making a rash decision like hopping on a plane at the last minute? Not a single soul. And maybe, as Rhonda said, it was time to have some fun.

  As the plane came in for a landing at the Southwest Florida International Airport, I peered out the window. Palm trees swayed in the breeze, welcoming me in their own way. It was such a nice change for me. Curious to know why Rhonda had insisted I come, I picked up my purse and left the plane.

  I walked into the baggage claim area and grinned. In a flowing, pastel top and darker green slacks, Rhonda was all but jumping up and down with excitement. She waved, and I hurried over to her.

  She threw her arms around me and gave me a good squeeze. Funny, I thought, after being with Rhonda even a short time, my old friends back home seemed shallow and cold.

  While we waited for my luggage, Rhonda kept grinning at me. I couldn’t contain my curiosity. “So, why did you want me to come here?”

  She winked at me. “You’re not going to believe it! That’s all I’m saying for now. I’ll tell you all about it at The Beach House.”

  We stowed my bags, settled ourselves in Rhonda’s bright-red Cadillac, and took off from the Ft. Myers airport down I-75 toward Sabal.

  Behind the wheel, Rhonda turned to me, her eyes sparkling. “So, Annie, tell me what’s happening with your search for a new place. You’ve found nothing so far?

  I shook my head.

  “Good.” Her mischievous smile made me uneasy. I kept glancing over at her, willing her to spill the news, but she just smiled at me. My curiosity grew. It was so unlike her to hold back on anything.

  We entered the drive between the two huge, pink-stucco pillars that secured gilded, wrought-iron gates, and I filled once more with admiration for the home Rhonda casually called “The Beach House.” It had, I knew now, thirty-two rooms and stood like a palace, regal and splendid, at the water’s edge. We pulled into the circular driveway, and Rhonda parked in front.

  At the sound of car doors slamming, a short, wiry man hurried toward us from the side lawn. He wore a loose, white, short-sleeved shirt over dark pants. A straw hat perched on his head shielded his tan face from the sun, but it was unable to quell the sparkle in his dark eyes as he drew closer, a broad smile on his face.

  “Ah, here’s Manny.” Rhonda grinned. “My Manny around the house.”

  Manny laughed good-naturedly. “Welcome.” He gave me a little bow and took my suitcase, carrying it around to the side of the house.

  Rhonda and I climbed the front steps. Inside the entry, I took in the view across the white and black marble floor, across the cream-colored Oriental rug in the huge living room, and through the series of sliding doors out to the large pool. Seeing the pool and the sparkling blue waters of the Gulf again, my admiration grew. It was everything I’d remembered—and more. I took a deep breath of salty air, feeling the stress of the last few weeks ease.

  “You’re in the same room as last time. Hurry, Annie! Go get changed. I’ll fix a light lunch for us, and then I’ll tell you what’s on my mind. We have lots to talk about.”

  I climbed the stairs and walked into the room I’d come to think of as mine. My suitcase was already resting on a luggage rack in the room. I took off my winter clothes, slipped on a pair of light shorts and a T-shirt, and happily wiggled my bare toes in the warm air.

  “Annie! Annie! Aren’t you ready yet?” Rhonda called from the bottom of the stairs. “C’mon! I’ve got lunch ready! We can eat and talk at the same time! Hurry!”

  I felt like a young girl as I all but skipped down the stairs. It was good to be back in Sabal. Looking at the splendor around me, I felt less in awe of the luxurious surroundings than I had during my first visit. The house, though impressive in size and décor, had a surprisingly homey air.

  I walked out onto the pool deck.

  “Sit down, Annie. We gotta talk.” Rhonda indicated a chair at the glass-topped table.

  Plates laden with chicken salad, sliced tomatoes, and frosty-cold, green grapes sat at each place, along with a tall glass of iced tea.

  I’d no sooner taken a bite of my chicken salad than Rhonda said,” Okay, here it is. My plan is for us to open The Beach House as a bed and breakfast, or maybe a small, boutique hotel, the two of us, with you living here on the grounds.”

  I choked on the salad and reached for the glass of tea. Starting a new business? Rhonda and I working together every day? Living together? Impossible!

  “It would be a whole new start for each of us. You’ve got the class, and, from what you told me earlier, you have the business experience. I’ve got the place. Whaddya say?” Her voice rose with excitement. “It’s time for me to do something meaningful with my life. I’ve dreamed of running a place like this since I was a kid, cooking with my mother.”

  Trying to come up with a polite way of saying no, I took another sip of iced tea.

  Rhonda leaned forward. “Listen, Annie; I need you. Money alone can’t make it work. I know that. You’re the other h
alf of the equation. I’m not afraid of hard work, but I need guidance, and, God knows, I’m bored to tears with Angie away. C’mon! Whaddya say? Huh?” She squeezed my hand so hard I winced.

  My mind raced. The idea was intriguing, but it would never work. Not with the two of us.

  But ... the idea of turning The Beach House into an elegant bed and breakfast place, or better yet, a small hotel, was very enticing to someone who had no home, no plans, no future. The elegant house with its fine appointments, beach frontage, balconies as part of the individual bedrooms, the expanse of private grounds, all lent themselves to a stunning possibility.

  “C’mon! What do you think?” Rhonda’s voice rose with impatience.

  I reluctantly shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

  Rhonda jumped up, rushed over to me and tugged me to my feet. “Forget lunch. I’ve got some things to show you. I’ve been thinking about this ever since you left!”

  She grabbed my hand and pulled me through a tall hedge of oleander and hibiscus. A small house, an old caretaker’s cottage I surmised, stood in disrepair. Hidden as it was behind the tropical growth, it hadn’t been noticeable on my previous visit.

  “This is where you can live.” Rhonda indicated the structure with a flourish. “I’ve had an architect look at it and draw up some plans for renovating it. It’s yours if you want to buy it for a reasonable price and pay for the renovations.” Rhonda flung an arm across my shoulders and grinned. “I knew you wouldn’t allow me to just give it to you. You’re too damned independent for that!”

  Speechless, I looked from her to the cottage, trying to absorb the impact of her words. It needed work, true, but in my mind’s eye, I could already envision what it would look like with a new roof, new paint, and landscaping. It could be beautiful! Absolutely beautiful!

  “What do you say? And look at this!” Rhonda dragged me by the arm past the front of the main house to the other side of her yard to a multi-car garage. “There, at the end of the garage, is where we can put a laundry and extra storage. And listen to this, upstairs we can create an apartment for Manny and his wife, Consuela. She works for me, too. We even have room for another, smaller apartment for another staff member.”