Page 141 of The Newcomer
“And Tanya also happened to be Maya’s mother, in case you’re interested,” Ava said pointedly.
“Okay, but about the walker? These things cost money.”
“I’ll pay for the walker,” Letty said. “Trudi probably saved Maya’slife with it. Just buy a new one and save me the receipt, please. I’ll reimburse you.”
“Happy?” Ava said. She gestured to the door. “I’ll let you show yourself out.”
After they had the kitchen to themselves again, she went to a cupboard and brought out a tin of shortbread cookies. She lifted the lid, helped herself to a cookie, and offered one to Letty.
Letty dipped a cookie into the milky coffee and nibbled, remembering that she’d had no breakfast, or lunch.
“I’m sorry, Ava.”
“For what? Merwin? You don’t owe that old fool nothing.”
“No. For…” Letty made an all-encompassing gesture with her arms. “All of it. If it weren’t for Tanya, and me, by extension, none of this craziness would have unfolded right here on your doorstep. You did me a favor and took us in when I had no place else to go. You gave me a job and treated Maya and me like family. I want you to know that I’ll understand if you want me to leave now.”
“Leave? Why would I want that? You’ve been a godsend. Helped me out in the office. Got me thinking of ways to spruce up this old place, taught me how to use that damned new reservation software. You’ve made yourself pretty damn indispensable, Miss Letty Carnahan.”
“I doubt that,” Letty said.
“No, it’s true,” Ava insisted. “I’ll admit, I’ve been in a rut these past few years. Hadn’t had the energy or the gumption to give the motel the attention it needed.”
“No…”
“Yes,” Ava said. “Just between the two of us, I’ve started thinking maybe the time has come to sell the place.”
Letty raised a surprised eyebrow.
“I get offers all the time. People dropping notes in the mail slot, sending me emails, or just knocking on the office door. It’s developers who want to knock the place down and build another big resort hotel, or some of these damn hipster types who want to make it into one of those pricey boutique hotels.”
Even though they were alone, Ava lowered her voice. “It’s crazy the money these people are offering.”
“It makes good business sense,” Letty said. “You’ve got about three hundred feet of unobstructed Gulf-front property here. But would you really consider selling the Murmuring Surf after all these years?”
“Well…” Ava’s voice trailed off. “The trouble is, I really love this old dump. I love all the families who started coming here when their kids were young, and now those kids are bringing their kids. They send me Christmas cards and birth and wedding announcements. And of course, our snowbirds, the regulars who’ve been wintering here for decades, they’re like family. I hate to think about how they’d feel if I were to sell the Murmuring Surf. Where would they go? We’re sort of the last of a dying breed here. And you know, every year or so, I’ll get a call from someone’s kids back home, telling me their nana or granddad has passed away, and they won’t be joining us this winter. Or worse, we’ll have one of our guests pass away while they’re down here.”
“That’s happened?” Letty asked, horrified. “People have died, right here in the motel?”
Ava gave her hand a reassuring pat. “Maybe half a dozen times over the years. That’s why I always ask our older guests for a phone number for their next of kin, up home. Just in case.”
“It’s none of my business,” Letty said, “but if you still love running the Surf, why should you sell out?”
“I just think it’s selfish on my part,” Ava said with a shrug. “I’m sort of sitting on a gold mine here. If I were to sell, Joe could start up a business of his own if he wanted to, and Isabelle, she wouldn’t have to worry about paying for college, or anything else for that matter.”
“And what about you?” Letty asked.
“I guess I’d do whatever people do at my age. Retire. Take up crossword puzzles or knitting. Maybe travel.”
Letty laughed. “I don’t see you as a knitter or a puzzler.”
“True. But this is Isabelle’s last year at home. She’ll head off to college in August. I haven’t let myself think about what happens after that.”
Letty nodded in sympathy. “That’s exactly how I’ve felt, ever since the day I found Tanya—back in New York. I’ve been living day to day, not daring to think about what happens beyond tomorrow, terrified that Evan, or the police, would try to take Maya away from me. That was Tanya’s biggest fear, you know.”
“You’re not much like your sister, are you?” Ava asked. “I mean, personality-wise.”
“Tanya was like my mom. Beautiful, impulsive, a free spirit. I’m probably more like my grandmother, who helped raise us. We were pretty much on our own by the time we were Isabelle’s age. I’ve always just been boring and dependable.”
