Social Hour: Pineridge Series Book 2

By Molly McGinty

After the death of her husband, Maggie bought a bed and breakfast as a way to provide and income for herself while still being a stay-at-home mom for her two young children. She provides free lodging to anyone who had a wounded soldier in the local hospital, but after three years with many free guests and few paying ones, Maggie is on the v

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stratton Press
• Release date: Oct 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781648952197

Molly McGinty

Molly McGinty, author of the Pineridge series, works in a library by day and is happy to be surrounded by great books, great programs, and great people. A library advocate, devoted mother of five children and one daughter-in-law, she is grateful for all the love and support she receives from her parents, grandmother, and children.

Book preview

Chapter 1

An empty calendar wasn’t a good thing for a struggling bed-and-breakfast, because empty calendars meant no guests, and no guests meant no money. No money meant no paying bills or buying groceries.

When Maggie Stewart bought the Pineridge Bed and Breakfast three years ago, no one was more surprised about her running a B and B than Maggie herself was. Family and friends alike tried to talk her out of it, saying that it was not a good idea to make such a huge decision while she was mourning the death of her husband, but she had been determined. Life had dropped an entire tree full of lemons on her head, and she was adamant to make the sweetest lemonade, come hell or high water.

She never expected to be a military widow with two young children by the age of twenty-five, either. Her limited part-time job in a bakery as a teenager was the only work experience she had had, so going from a stay-at-home mom with a degree in food science to being the owner of a bed-and-breakfast had been baptism by fire. There had been much to learn.

Maggie knew how to handle the breakfast part of the bed-and-breakfast. She was a great cook and a better baker. She knew it, and everyone who ate anything she baked agreed, but the bed part of the bed-and-breakfast had been harder than she ever could have imagined. The management of a business, keeping permits up-to-date, inventory and business taxes had been the hardest things to learn. But Maggie had worked endlessly, sometimes to the point of exhaustion, and it had paid off. Three years later, Maggie felt she had a good grip on running a B and B.

A picture of her deceased husband, Jerry, sat on her desk right in front of her. He was smiling and so very handsome in his uniform. It had been taken just a month before his death.

I don’t know what I’m going to do, Maggie spoke out loud to the smiling face. If I don’t get paying customers in here every night for the next month, there’s no way I’m going to make it until Christmas.

She buried her face into her hands and rubbed her palms into her tired eyes. How will I explain this to Dad or the kids? How do I tell Patty Hunt? She gave a sob and put her hands to her face while she cried.

Her bed-and-breakfast was the only place within fifty miles that was chartered with the Families of Wounded Soldiers, a program that allowed military families to stay for free in a hotel room close to the hospital where their soldier was being treated. If Maggie shut her doors, families of wounded soldiers would have to stay at the hotel and pay for their stay themselves. She offered families a room in her bed-and-breakfast for free. She lost money doing it, but it was extremely important to her.

She looked to the picture of her sweet husband again. How do I explain my complete failure to our children? And what do I do next? Go live with Dad? Get a job working fast food? Maybe a bakery. At least the children are in school now, so I won’t be leaving them alone in someone else’s care.

Maggie reached for a tissue to blow her nose. She wouldn’t fail. She couldn’t. Too many people depended on her. She stood up with a new resolve to work harder filling her. I won’t fail. I can do this.

But as she looked around, the same problems still sat on her desk. Two bills were due to be paid this week. And there were the price comparisons she had started on roofers and painters, all much too high for her to pay, but if the roof didn’t get repaired soon, Maggie wasn’t sure it was going to survive the next major storm, much less the approaching winter with all its snow.

I don’t know what to do, she whispered out loud. She was startled by her phone ringing. She grabbed it quickly and put on her best receptionist voice.

Hello, Pineridge Inn Bed and Breakfast, this is Maggie.

It’s Patty Hunt, dear, the familiar voice spoke to her. I’ve got another family coming your way.

Great, Maggie said with false enthusiasm.

Mrs. Hunt was head of the local chapter of Families of Wounded Soldiers and Maggie’s supervisor.

So, Maggie said, sitting back down at her desk and picking up a pen. When can I expect this new family?

Well, I believe it’s just one man. His name is Bryan Connolly. He’ll be coming in tomorrow evening from Detroit, Mrs. Hunt explained.

Maggie wrote everything down. Odd, she said. I didn’t think there were many military families in Detroit.

Military families are everywhere, Mrs. Hunt said, and he’ll be arriving tomorrow. You know what to do. Treat him well and send me your invoices at the end of each week he stays with you.

Maggie nodded, even though Mrs. Hunt couldn’t see her. She knew what to do. She had been doing it for three years now. She sighed. Thank you, Patty, I’ll take care of everything from here.

You always do a splendid job, dear, she said. Let me know if you need anything. Bye.

Maggie hung up the phone. Yeah, like a new roof? She collected the mail and walked out to the door of her office. The main foyer of the house, where she had the inn’s front desk, was glowing slightly orange in the afternoon light.

Maggie? her father’s voice called from the next room. She went through the dining hall and kitchen and went into the family living side of the two-story house. Her father, Richard Anderson, was putting a baseball cap on over his mostly bald head.

Hey, Dad, what’s up?

I’m going out to blow the leaves out of the driveway. Are you going to the bus stop?

Maggie nodded. I was just on my way.

He picked up two envelopes and handed them to her. Mind dropping those off on the way? he asked.

She held up her own stack of letters. No problem. See you in a while, she said as she walked back out toward the front of the house and her father to the back. She made sure her cell phone was in her pocket as she left the house and locked it. She flipped the sign over that read Back in ten minutes, and she headed down the path to the bus stop. She stopped at the corner mailbox and dropped off the stack of letters.

Hi, Maggie, her friend and neighbor, Catherine, said. Catherine was still dressed from work in her dark business suit and matching low heels, but her hair had been pulled up into a ponytail, which meant she had been home for a quick moment before coming to the bus stop. If her hair was still immaculate, it meant she had had a long day and had only just gotten home from her law office.

Hi, Catherine. Maggie smiled. How was your day?

Not bad. Busy, but not too busy. How about you?

Slow, but it gives me time to work on other projects. Maggie smiled wearily.

Got any guests right now? Catherine said, tugging her jacket closer. November winds were promising winter wasn’t going to be too far behind.

No, she said, trying not to sound too upset by this. But I’ll have one coming in tomorrow.

That’s good. Catherine smiled and waved at the bus as it came around the corner.

The bus came to its stop just in front of them, and they watched as the children stepped off the bus. Catherine’s daughter was off first, followed closely by Maggie’s children, Liam, who was five, and Iris, who was seven. The children ran to their mothers and hugged them.

How was your day? Maggie asked.

Good, they answered together, and Liam took off running.

At Catherine’s driveway, they said their goodbyes and then Maggie and Iris walked together the rest of the way home. Richard had moved out to the front lawn to blow the leaves, and he was helping Liam hold the blower as leaves were blown and scattered about the yard by the enthusiastic five-year-old. Maggie laughed, flipped the sign back to open and unlocked the door. She and Iris walked in and headed for the kitchen. Maggie opened the container of homemade cookies and let Iris pick two. They sat together at the kitchen’s bar, talking about Iris’s day at school for several minutes before Liam came rushing in. He also grabbed two cookies.

Cookies down, Maggie said. Wash hands.

Liam took a bite of one of his cookies and then set them down on the counter before washing his hands. Maggie sighed in amusement at her son’s antics. He was all boy, and so much like his father. When Liam’s hands were clean, he picked up his cookies and sat next to Maggie.

For the next fifteen minutes, Maggie listened to her children talk about their days at school. They had good friends and nice teachers. She listened to every story, but her mind kept wandering back to her main dilemma. If she couldn’t keep the B and B open, they would have to move, which meant Liam and Iris would have to go to new schools. The very idea nearly made her cry.

Chapter 2

N ew guest? her father asked, coming into the room where Maggie was tucking in the top blanket on the bed.

She smoothed out a wrinkle. I’m expecting him this afternoon, she said.

Is it a paying guest or a freeloader?

Dad! Maggie sighed. They went through this same conversation with each guest. He is with the Family of Wounded Soldiers. He’s not a freeloader. In case you have forgotten, I was one of them too, once.

Richard held up his hands. I know, Maggie, I know. But you don’t get a dime from these people.

I don’t care. I’m happy to help them, Maggie said, collecting the rest of her cleaning supplies.

But how much longer can you keep guests for free? Richard asked.

Don’t worry about it, Dad. It’s my business, not yours, Maggie said, unable to admit the truth to her father.

He raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing more about it. I’m running to the hardware store. Need anything while I’m out?

They walked out of the room together, and Maggie closed the door. She stopped off at the tiny closet at the end of the hall and dropped off her cleaning supplies and extra linens. No, she said after a moment of thinking. I don’t think I do.

Well, call me if you think of anything. See you later, he said as he left.

Maggie went to prep the breakfast she would make tomorrow. She chopped the vegetables and put them into a container to be saved. She mixed the waffle batter and put it into the refrigerator. When the food prep was done, she picked up a dust cloth and went to start dusting around the front room. It was hard to get around the Halloween decorations that ran like garland along the front desk and banisters.

Her phone rang, and she pulled it out of her pocket. Hello, Pineridge Inn Bed and Breakfast, this is Maggie.

Hello, my name is Annie Griffin, and I would like to reserve a room.

Maggie about shouted for joy right into the phone, but stopped herself at the last moment and quickly wiped her hands on a dish towel. Yes, of course, what date were you looking for? She ran to her office and threw open her calendar. She knew that any day was open and available since there were currently no guests, and except for the one she was expecting today, none were on the books.

Well, I know this is short notice, and I’m hoping you have openings, but I was thinking in two weeks. On November 10, the woman, Annie, said.

I do have rooms available on that day. Now how many will be staying?

There’s two, my fiancé and I.

Maggie started writing things down. Very good. Will you be wanting a queen bed or two singles?

One bed. He won’t be my fiancé by the time we arrive. He’ll be my husband.

That’s wonderful, Maggie said, One bed indeed, then. Will it just be one night? she asked, hoping with all her being that they wanted to stay longer.

It would be two nights, the woman said. Please put the reservation under Ted and Annie Martin, since we’ll be married at that point.

Maggie wrote it all down. It wasn’t great, but two nights of a paying guest was better than nothing. She finished her reservation with the woman and let out a loud, Yes! as soon as she hung up. She quickly added the information into her computer: Annie Griffin Martin, November 10 and 11th, queen bed, needs good Wi-Fi signal, and a coffee maker in their room. She could manage all that, except for a good, reliable Wi-Fi signal. That would be a little harder to guarantee.

She heard the front door open and close. Maggie hopped up and went out to the foyer. A stranger stood there, suitcase in hand, looking around the room.

Sorry, I wasn’t sure if I should just walk in or not, he said.

No worries. Maggie smiled. And yes, you are welcome to walk right in. This is an inn, after all. Now what can I do for you?

My name is Bryan Connolly. I believe we spoke about my staying here with the Family of Wounded Soldiers program? he asked, walking to the front desk and putting down his suitcase.

Ah, you would have spoken to Mrs. Hunt, Maggie said, giving the stranger a knowing nod. She is the one who makes up all the arrangements for the program.

But I stay with you? he asked.

Yes. I’m Maggie, owner of the Pineridge Inn Bed and Breakfast. Maggie turned on her computer screen and waited for her computer to wake up. She pulled out a large yellow card. Here now, just fill this out and I’ll explain everything once you’re finished.

She pushed the card across the desk. He took a pen from the pen holder and started to write. Maggie noticed that he was left-handed and the hand was missing a wedding ring, but that didn’t always mean anything. Her husband had not been allowed to wear a wedding ring at his job. Perhaps Mr. Connolly had a job where he couldn’t wear a ring either and had forgotten it when he left home.

Maggie shook her head. Not something she needed to worry about or be distracted by. He was probably tired, worried about his soldier, and just wanting to get to his room. He started to write, and Maggie pulled up her program where she kept all her guest information. Her computer was old. It had come with the bed-and-breakfast back when she bought it, so it had to be at least four years old and probably several beyond that. By the time she got the program running, Bryan was finished with the card. She took it and set it next to the keyboard. She would enter his information into the computer later.

You’ll be in room three. It’s just up the stairs, on the left. It’s got a nice view out the front of the house and you have your own bathroom. I have a tea and cookie social hour at seven every night. You never have to attend, but you are always welcome. I serve breakfast between 6:30 and 9:00. She pulled out two sheets of paper. The first one had all the information about the bed-and-breakfast. I lock the doors at ten o’clock and unlock them at 6:30 in the morning. You are free to come and go as much as you like in between those times, but if an emergency comes up and you need in or out during locked times, just call this number. She highlighted her personal cell phone.

Bryan nodded and took the paper.

Maggie showed him the second paper. This is a map of the nearby area. Here’s the inn. She pointed to and circled the inn’s sign. The hospital is less than half a mile away. There’s also several banks and pharmacies nearby should you have a need for something like that. She pointed towards a few spots on the map. If there is anything you need, just ask. I’m always about, but if you can’t find me, just ring this bell and I’ll come."

Bryan nodded. Thank you.

It’s all right. I know it’s overwhelming, but if you need anything or have any questions, I’m happy to help you, Maggie said. "I understand what it’s like to have someone you love in the hospital.

He looked at her in surprise. He was taller than her, but shorter than her husband, Jerry had been, who had stood just under six feet. Bryan Connolly’s hair was a light brown that looked to be a bit wild at the moment, like it hadn’t been brushed in a day or so, but that was hardly surprising if he had flown in and then rented a car and driven the hour from the airport to Pineridge. He was handsome in the face with a strong, straight nose, and angular jawline. Unfortunately, that strong jawline had a frowning mouth in it.

She cleared her throat, embarrassed by the look on his face. I’ll show you to your room. She quickly turned and grabbed the room key and went to the steps. Bryan picked up his suitcase and followed her. When they reached the top of the stairs, she opened the door with an old plaque with the number 3’ on it. I change the sheets on the bed every three days and the linens in the bathroom as well, unless you want me to do it more often or less. If there is anything for your room that you need, just ask. She handed him the key to the room. I hope your stay here is pleasant."

Wait, Bryan said as she stepped out. What about the bill? Do I pay daily or at the end of my stay?

Didn’t Mrs. Hunt explain that to you? Maggie said, surprised. Your stay here while you are with the Families for Wounded Soldiers is free. You owe nothing. We provide you with a place to stay while your soldier is in the hospital. It’s one less thing you need to worry about during this time.

That’s incredibly generous, but don’t you lose money? Bryan asked.

Maggie felt her chest tighten. How had he managed to hit her worried financial nail on the head? She was losing money every time she hosted a family, but the service of the organization was more important to her than money. I am happy to give for this organization. She smiled. Enjoy your stay. She closed the door and stood in the hall, taking a few deep breaths. She knew all too well the sacrifices of military families. She would do anything in her power to help them. Maggie left Bryan to settle in. Later she heard the front door open and close. She peeked out, but there was no one there. A quick look out the window showed Bryan leaving. She figured he was off to see his family member in the hospital. She wondered who it was. His wife, most likely.

Maggie went back to her work. There were always a million things to do. As the afternoon passed, she managed to get through a few things on her list, but mostly things were left undone. When Richard returned from his errands, Maggie told him about their new guest.

He didn’t understand the program very well, she said.

That Patty Hunt probably didn’t tell him anything, Richard said.

Maggie rolled her eyes. Her father didn’t like the head of the local chapter of the organization. They had met soon after he had moved in with them and immediately not gotten along. Maggie had to agree that the woman wasn’t the nicest person to deal with, but she was the head of the organization, so somewhere, deep in her heart, she must have a soft side. At least, that’s what Maggie kept telling herself.

You’re probably right, Maggie agreed.

Chapter 3

Over the next week, Maggie saw very little of Bryan.

The only time she saw Bryan was during breakfast. He usually ate around eight in the morning, but Maggie still had food available starting at 6:30, in case he wanted to get up early and go. However, he was punctual and stuck to a fairly routine schedule. She would say good morning when she saw him, and they would share a few pleasantries, usually about the weather, then he would eat and leave for the hospital.

Every evening at seven, she set out cookies and tea for her social hour, but he never showed up. He wasn’t even at the bed-and-breakfast when she had her social hour.

Her children loved when they had guests because they always got the social hour’s leftover cookies, and since no guests were eating the cookies, they got their choice of whatever Maggie had made. After social hour, Maggie would get her children into their baths and then ready for bed. When she was finished, usually around eight thirty, she would see Bryan’s car had returned, and she could hear movement coming from the upstairs, which meant he was in his room. He never came back down again until the next morning at eight for breakfast.

He had his routine and stuck to it each day, which was why she was surprised to see him walk in at two in the afternoon a week after he had arrived.

Afternoon, Bryan, she said pleasantly. I hope all is well.

Amy went in for another surgery about half an hour ago. The nurses told me to come back and get some sleep, he said wearily.

He did look tired. Dark bags shaded his eyes.

I hope you manage to get some sleep, then, she said. I’ll try not to run the vacuum this afternoon.

Bryan gave her a small smile. Do what you need to do.

He walked up to his room, and she heard the door shut.

Maggie went about the rest of her afternoon, like normal. She finished her housework, started dinner, and picked up her children from