Chapters (75)
- Cover
- Back Cover Text
- Praise
- Booklist
- About the Author
- Dedication
- Quote
- Prologue
- Part One
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- Part Two
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- Part Three
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- Part Four
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- Part Five
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- Part Six
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- Part Seven
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- Part Eight
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- Part Nine
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- Part Ten
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- Part Eleven
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- Part Twelve
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- Part Thirteen
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- AUTHOR NOTE
- Reader’s Guide
- Questions for Discussion
- The Heirloom Garden
- Abby
My eyes drift from Sonny to Rule #10 on my parents’ Cottage Rules sign: Go Jump in the Lake!
Sonny opens his eyes, thinks I’m looking at him and thumps his tail. I wave at him, and he sighs dramatically. I match his with one of my own.
“And some Memorial Day weekends,” I say to myself, “are nightmares.”
Somehow, I had forgotten that there were a handful of Memorial Day weekends growing up when it spit snow, we lit a fire every night, stayed inside, read and built fortresses out of sheets and blankets. As a kid, I certainly didn’t love a wintry kickoff to summer, but there were ways to pass the time. As an innkeeper, I couldn’t imagine anything worse.
I walk into the dining room, where I’ve hung a chalkboard in an ornate frame. On it, I’ve written—in beautiful, looping calligraphy that took me hours as well as many glasses of wine and erasers to create—the activity schedule for guests:
Friday
5:00 p.m.—Welcome! Bubbles & Bites (Happy Hour in Our Turret Overlooking Lake Michigan)
Saturday
7:00 a.m.—Coffee
8:30–10:00 a.m.—Farm to Table Breakfast (with coffee and mimosas)
11:00 a.m.—Yoga (on the patio)
2:00 p.m.—Orchard/U-Pick/Winery Tour
6:00 p.m.—Champagne Sunset Boat Ride on the Adie Lou (sign-up required)
Sunday
7:00 a.m.—Coffee
8:30–10:00 a.m.—Farm to Table Breakfast (with coffee and mimosas)
11:00 a.m.—Yoga (on the beach)
1:00 p.m.—Sandcastle Competition on the Beach
3:00 p.m.—Rock Hunting on the Lakeshore
6:00 p.m.—Champagne Sunset Boat Ride on the Adie Lou (sign-up required)
Monday
7:00 a.m.—Coffee
8:30–10:00 a.m.—Farm to Table Breakfast (with coffee and mimosas)
11:00 a.m.—Restorative Yoga (on the beach)
1:00 p.m.—Checkout & Goodbyes
Nearly everything, I now realize, revolves around good weather, or, at least, decent weather.
“Not snow,” I say, my voice rising and echoing in the dining room. “Not windchill. Not this crapfest!”
Sonny opens his eyes and stares at me.
“What do I do now with my guests, Sonny?” I ask. “Build fortresses out of blankets?”
Sonny seems to know this is both a sarcastic and rhetorical question, so he shuts his eyes and refuses to acknowledge it.
I head back into the kitchen and go over the checklist I’ve printed that details every hour of the weekend: what I’m making and when; staff schedule; turndown service. I’ve planned every minute. My heart begins to race as my mind flashes back to last week’s disastrous run-through at the inn.
I’ve planned every minute as if things will go according to schedule, I think, correcting myself.
“Don’t panic, Adie Lou,” I tell myself. “You’ve got this. Remember what Scooter said—‘You can prepare all you want, but sometimes you just gotta play the game.’”
“C’mon, Sonny,” I say, heading into the living room and up the stairs. “One final walk-through.”