“Depends on the man,” I say with a smile, before explaining the various weekends and activities I have planned. I get up and begin to deadhead a few flowers around the patio. “I can’t tell you what it was like to see a group of strangers come into our cottage and—after a few days—become real people again. They became the people we used to become when we’d come here for the summer.” I toss some spent stems onto the patio. “I felt like I finally had found my purpose.”

Evan smiles. “That’s amazing, Mom,” he says. “But I have to ask one more question. Is it weird to have strangers here?”

A cardinal lands in a tree and begins to chirp, deep red on vibrant green. I cock my head, just like the bird, and turn toward Evan. “I feel like the cottage has found its purpose, too,” I say.

“So, what do you want me to do around here?” Evan asks. “I have some ideas, but I know you do, too.”

“I’m impressed,” I say. “I half expected you to spend most of your days hanging out on the beach and meeting girls.”

“Oh, that’s definitely on my list,” Evan says with a big smile. “But in the few minutes I will have free...”

I laugh. “Let me hear your ideas first,” I say.

“Hmm,” Evan says. “From that misdirection, I have a feeling I might not like your ideas as much as mine.”

“You know me too well,” I say. “I just think your ideas are going to be, well, a little more fun than mine. Shoot.”

“I want to focus on marketing and social media,” Evan says, his deep voice growing higher with excitement. “I want to post lots of pictures and video on Facebook, Twitter and other social media to show everything the inn and town have to offer. I want to bring it alive for people. In today’s world, they need to experience it to understand it.”

He continues. “I want to brainstorm some fun contests and giveaways, so that we get people interacting with us and sharing with their friends. And I want to expand your women’s weekends, especially since summer will wind down and your outdoor activities will need to become indoor activities.”

I pick up the stems from the patio—pulling one from the mouth of Sonny, who has decided to try to eat one while I wasn’t paying attention making it look as if he has a green cigarette dangling from his mouth—and take a seat again. “I kind of forgot about that being so focused on the launch and short-term,” I say.

“There are so many ways to expand on what you’ve started,” he says. “Seasonal cooking classes, the fall Gallery Stroll combined with your own painting classes, winter women’s pamper weekends...”

“What do you mean?” I ask.