Sealed and Delivered

Had Hailey ever worn such an expression at any of her wedding showers? She doubted it.

“And the Tea Room looks just as beautiful as I remember,” Amy continued.

“Tell your friends,” Hailey encouraged, ever the businesswoman, and ready to tear her thoughts away from her failed engagements.

After serving the ladies, and refreshing their tea, Hailey and Rachel began to discreetly clear away the wrapping paper. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am,” Rachel said quietly. This was the first real test of their hosting skills. While The Sutherland had been in their family for generations, and they’d performed their fair share of serving, their mother had always been the hostess.

Just to make sure the place shined, the last coat of paint to the Tea Room had gone up sometime around two that morning. Now looking around the beautiful banquet hall, Hailey experienced a swell of pride to see her home restored to as close as the sisters could remember it. The cypress wainscoting she was never allowed to touch gleamed. Prisms of light reflected around the room from the newly washed crystals hanging from the chandelier. The cornice molding gleamed with its new coat of papaya whip.

She just hoped no one looked under the crisp linens because the tables were a disaster. The management team apparently held an aversion to coasters. After hearing the delight of their new guests, the memory of all their hard work faded away. Grandpa Sutherland would be proud.

“This dessert is to die for,” one of the ladies exclaimed.

Hailey winked at her sister.

“What’s next?” asked another guest.

The smile faded from her sister’s face.

The bridal party had already played Groom Trivia, Wedding Night Surprise, opened the presents and consumed dozens of champagne soaked strawberries. Hailey had heard so many off-color wedding night jokes, she could probably start a stand-up routine. “What’s next?” her sister mouthed.

After being awake for nearly twenty-four hours, Hailey had hoped it was a nap.

The bride had mentioned something about fate, and ding ding ding, that little word triggered a memory in her sleep deprived and work fogged brain of a bookstore purchase not so long ago. So far fate had worked on their side, maybe they should keep it rolling. “Our last game will be ready as soon as we’ve cleared,” Hailey told them demurely, then turned to race up the stairs two at a time to her bedroom. If her grandma had seen her run through the hallway like that…

Four months ago, the funding for her junior assistant curator position at the Dallas Museum of Art ran out, leaving her jobless. Back in San Diego, she’d reclaimed the bookshelf-lined room that had been hers. The corner room with a small window to the ocean had been her refuge from the oh-so-embarrassing job of working in her family’s B&B when she was growing up.

While her friends were hitting the sandy beaches, she’d been learning the secrets to making spider web Grenache, or worse, taking care of the guests’ laundry. She smiled at the memory of her teen angst. What she wouldn’t give now to sit beside the large stove and talk to her mother as she made the delicious meals for their guests, or hear her grandma’s lessons of how a real lady crossed her legs at the ankle.

A time when she didn’t have to worry about bills. Hailey wouldn’t lose the battle for The Sutherland before she’d really had a chance to implement her ideas. Growing up in a work of art, like The Sutherland, with so much history, it was no wonder she’d been drawn to preserving and showcasing the past. Now she was saving something infinitely more personal…her family’s legacy. Though she had work to do on the first step—save this wedding shower. She scanned the various self-help titles that now filled her bookshelf, looking for the bright red packaging. There they were—the Fate Delivery cards.

She peeled off the plastic wrapping as she raced down the hallway, stuffing the cellophane wrapper into her apron. Hailey plastered on a serene expression reminiscent of their mother as she returned to the Tea Room where Rachel finished the last of the clean-up. Their guests were talking quietly, looking over the various gifts the bride had received.

Needing to set some kind of mood here, Hailey flipped the switch cutting off the light provided by the chandeliers. The natural sunlight filled the room with its warm tones.

“Okay, ladies, the time is now,” she said, her voice low and laced with dramatic flourish. An instant hush fell over the room. Hey, they were into it. Maybe Hailey had finally found the silver lining of taking that acting class in college, which sadly had led her to Fiancé Failure Number One.

“Amy is about to embark on a new journey that fate has ordained. Now it’s our turn to see what’s destined for the rest of us.” Hailey fanned the cards in her hand. “Pick your fate, but don’t look at it.”

Each guest in the circle took a card, holding it to her chest, giggling to one another about taking peeks. Hailey held out the deck to Amy.

“Maybe I shouldn’t take a card,” the soon-to-be-bride said.

“Oh, take a card, Amy,” said the maid of honor with a quick nudge. “It’s just a game.”

With a good-humored smile, Amy slid a card from the deck and placed it face down on her lap.

Hailey returned the unused cards back in the cardboard box they came in and set them aside. “Now ladies, the bride will choose who goes first,” she instructed, making the rules up as she went. “You will show your card to the rest of the group, then look at it yourself. Some of the fates are silly and fun, but others are true life-changing destinies.”

She hoped.

Maybe.

Hailey backed away to the wall where her sister watched. “Fate had ordained?” Rachel whispered to her. “I’ve forgetten how dramatic you can be.”

“If it works, it works. Did you catch my emphasis on the word last, when I talked about this game?”

“Here’s hoping they did,” Rachel said, hiding a yawn with her hand.

“Tori, you go first,” Amy said, clearly fired up to get this game going.

Tori turned her card to show to the rest of the group. A few groans followed.

“Oh, you have an easy one,” one of the ladies called out.

Tori twirled the card around and read aloud. “Kick off your shoes and run into the wind.” Then she glanced at her friends, raising a brow. “Speak for yourself on that being easy. Once I get these heels off, they’re not going back on.”

“No, you can’t get out of it,” Amy insisted, now fully involved in the game. “The beach is right outside this window.”

Floor to ceiling windows dominated one side of the Tea Room. Shrouded in beautiful lace, the curtains allowed natural sunlight to filter into the room. But sweep them aside, and the Italian tiled terrace beckoned, as did the beach. The perfect place to kick off shoes and run.

“I’ll handle this,” Hailey said as she pushed off the wall and walked to the curtains that hid the glass door to the terrace. After draping the heavy material in the ornate holdbacks, she unlocked the doors so the women could step outside.

“Oh, this is beautiful,” several of the guests murmured as they stepped out onto the terrace, their heels clacking on the original tile some Sutherland relative had installed. She and Rachel hadn’t done much to this area but clean up the landscaping, although her sister had big plans to add tables and chairs, and serve brunch accompanied by an ocean breeze. There were other ways for the B&B to earn money besides guests in the rooms.

“Tori, just because it’s pretty out here doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten why we’ve come. You’ve got some running to do.”

With a sigh, Tori reached down and slid the straps off her heels, and carefully tucked her shoes to the side. “Here I go!” she called out.

Hailey had to join in the laughter as Tori took off down the beach in her sundress, the wind blowing in her hair. She turned to run backwards, raising her hands in the air like a winning marathon winner.

“Oh, no. Tori, look out.”

But Tori was too far away to hear Amy’s warning call, and Tori jogged right into the very solid chest of a man enjoying the beach with his dog. Now off balance, Tori began to slide to the sand until the man dropped his Frisbee and caught her. He steadied her against his body.

Amy’s warnings turned to laughter as Tori glanced up to her savior’s face. Then smiled. Slowly. The man didn’t let go.

“Get his name,” one of the guests called.

“And his number,” Amy added.

“I tell you, she meets men in the weirdest ways,” said the maid of honor. “Amy, choose who should go next.”

Amy glanced over at Tori, who was now tilting her head and brushing sand off the man’s arm. “Should we wait for her?”

“No, that’s going to take awhile. Look at him, he’s a goner.”

With a nod, Amy agreed. “Then you should go.”