A pure joyous laugh burst out of her. Ophelia. Perfetto!
It was like a small weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. When she straightened, Maria felt taller, stronger. So what if a couple of annoying incidents held up construction? Ophelia would rise, too.
And she had Mason Walsh’s mother to thank for it.
“Grazie, grazie,” she said before realizing that, in her excitement, she had switched to Italian. “Thank you, Mrs. Walsh! Ophelia, ha. I love it. Yes!”
Mrs. Walsh rubbed her cheek absently, a bewildered look overtaking her soft features as she glanced up at Maria. “You’re welcome, dear. I’m glad to be of help.”
A slam of the office door reminded Maria that she was still standing in the station house. She turned toward the sound. Willie was heading back to them at last.
“Good news, ladies. Valerie, I finally got your boy on the radio at last. He’s finishing up a patrol on the gulleyside and will swing by the station house in a few.”
“Wha— oh, yes. Thank you, Wilhelmina. If you don’t mind, I’ll keep on waiting for him right here.”
Behind her glasses, Willie gave Mason’s mother a curious look. The poor woman looked like she had just been steamrolled. “Sure thing, sug. You sit tight and I’ll let you know when Mase is close. Now, Maria—” she began before doing a double-take. The sheriff’s sister-in-law was halfway to the exit.
“Maria,” she called out, raising her voice. “Didn’t you want to see the sheriff?”
“No, thanks! I have just too, too much to do! Tell Caitlin I’ll see her later, would you, Willie? Bye!”
With a swish of her long black hair and another glorious laugh, Maria was gone.
Willie turned back to Valerie Walsh, questions in her eyes.
Mrs. Walsh threw her hands up in the air. But she was wearing an indulgent smile on her lips, and a smudge of pale pink lipstick on her cheek.
4
Two Years Ago
With one last ceremonial swing of the sledgehammer, Maria stepped back from the wide wooden sign she just finished posting in the grass in front of her home.
In front of Ophelia.
Lucas hovered on the sidewalk, watching her closely in case she managed to bash herself in the head on the backswing. As soon as she was satisfied that the sign was both sturdy and straight, her older brother swooped in and retrieved the sledgehammer from her with so much care, it was insulting.
When he turned to place it safely on the porch, Maria stuck her tongue out at his back. But it was a half-hearted gesture. Nothing—not even Lucas—was going to ruin her mood today.
Last Saturday, she spent the entire afternoon detailing the decorative O that she drew on the front door before painting over it with a pale mauve color, accents in white. She wasn’t sure she liked the mauve against the wood—or maybe it was her pesky perfectionism getting in the way again.
But Ophelia… it was important. It had to be just right.
And now the sign she spent the entire last week crafting, sanding, staining and then painting was finally up in her yard. It proudly proclaimed:
Ophelia of Hamlet Cozy Bed & Breakfast Open to All
Lucas came over to her and slung his arm around her shoulder. “You did it.”
She did. She really did. And despite the effort it took to hammer that sign into the ground in the right spot without it listing—not to mention the argument she won when Lucas wanted to do it for her—she knew that that wasn’t what Lucas was referring to.
It wasn’t easy. Deciding to open her own bed and breakfast all those years ago was probably the simplest part of the whole plan. It only went downhill from there.
The small nuisances that plagued the construction phase continued long after all of the work was done.
She hired an electrician outsider to do all of the wiring and the poor man nearly got himself blown up. Lucas was on-site and managed to help put the fire out, but she’d had to find another electrician.
A third pipe burst. After studying how the plumbers fixed it last time, Maria took care of this one herself.