Brooklyn suggested Carly do the honors by pressing the button. Within seconds, the doors opened, and Carly inhaled. Stylish gray paneling and a wooden rail had replaced the old cracked mirrors and gold railing. Brooklyn had hated the old elevator, and when she used to come to the inn would opt for the stairs. Even to this day, mirrors in elevators gave her an eerie feeling, like someone was watching her.
Carly pressed the number two on the keypad and giggled as it lit up. Brooklyn wasn’t sure what was funny but played along. Anything she could do to make Carly feel good about reopening the inn. The old elevator used to creak, wobble, and sometimes miss its stop. Not now, thanks to Bowie. The smooth ride took only a few seconds, with the doors opening effortlessly. Together, the two of them stepped out into the second-floor lobby. Brooklyn moved to the side to give Carly some time to come to terms with what she saw. On the wall, for everyone to see when they came out of the elevator, was a painting of Austin’s boat. Brooklyn had found the picture and sent it off to one of her colleagues, asking them to print it on wallpaper for her. She wasn’t always a fan of wallpaper unless the occasion called for it, like now.
Carly went to the wall and ran her fingers around the trawler. She traced the fine lines of the picture until she had gone from one end to the other. “He was so proud when he bought this ship.”
“I remember,” Brooklyn said.
“He could’ve done anything with his inheritance but chose to follow in his father’s footsteps. Reckless boy.”
“Fishing was in his blood, Carly. I don’t think there was a soul alive who could’ve steered him in another direction.” Brooklyn had tried often.
“No, I suppose you’re right—although I tried, many, many times. Do you ever wonder what your life would be like now if things had been different?”
Brooklyn didn’t want to answer that question but did anyway. “I always imagine it a couple different ways. All of them end up with Austin and I married, with a couple of children. It’s hard sometimes, watching Brystol grow up with only the memories we tell her.”
“She reminds me so much of Austin, especially at this age. I am so very thankful for her.” Carly turned toward Brooklyn. “You could’ve made a different decision.”
She nodded. “If I had, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.” Brooklyn wanted to add that Austin could’ve made a different decision as well, but she kept that to herself because his mother didn’t need to hear something like that. Not now. “Come, let me show you the room.”
Carly followed Brooklyn the short way down the hall. There were new light fixtures, making the hallway brighter. The walls were now a creamy yellow, and the flooring was hardwood. “Where did the carpet go?”
“Tore it up and had Bowie install bamboo flooring. It’ll be easier to clean, and the guests won’t struggle with their already-heavy suitcases.” There was nothing worse than the push-and-pull game down a carpeted floor.
“Huh, I liked that carpet.”
“It was threadbare and had to go.”
“If you say so.”
Brooklyn fought the urge to roll her eyes. She swiped the master key card against the new door, which only led to another round of questions from Carly. She was so out of touch with modern technology; Brooklyn made a mental note to have Brystol sit down with her grandmother and teach her a few things.
Carly stepped into the room and had her head on swivel, taking it all in. “The wall is my favorite, and I love the artwork.”
“Thanks, but Brystol gets the credit there. I let her pick something for each room.”
Carly smiled. “You know, I love having her here. You could stay and run the inn.”
She shook her head slightly and pressed her lips together. “I’ve been asked to do a job. It would start in October. I can’t stay.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
She wanted to stay and do the right thing for her daughter. She also wanted to leave and put everything behind her. It was easier living on the road. There wasn’t anyone or anything to get attached to. “Carly . . . ,” she sighed.
“Brystol can. She could start school, make some friends.”
She started to respond, but the sound of her phone cut her off. “Hello?” she answered. “Okay, I’ll be right down,” she said before hanging up. “My parents are here. Do you want to come down with me or stay up here?”
“I’ll stay up here a little while longer.”
Brooklyn figured Carly would want to look at Austin’s boat a little longer. As far as she knew, it was still shipwrecked at the bottom of the ocean, although its coordinates weren’t exactly known. Teams of divers had looked, scoured the area for Austin and the boat, but each trip out had yielded nothing in return. Down at the Whale Spout, the old-timers who sat and chatted happily in the corner had woven their own tales—that Austin was still out there, sailing the seas. Brooklyn wished it were true, at least for his mother’s and daughter’s sakes.