Return to Pelican Inn (Love by Design) by Dana Mentink Page B

Bitsy know Rocky’s lunch break required him to remove two slices of pie, a pair of apples, two cans of soda and the leftover roast chicken from the fridge? There was no sign of the woman to whom she could put the question, though, so she went out to the car to fetch most of the supplies.
    Cy was suitably awed by the glorious rug, which she put in an out-of-the-way corner. She’d almost forgotten the bag of scones. Before she set to work on the painting, she broke a piece off and put it on a napkin, sliding it toward the dog.
    “You deserve a treat, Baggy,” she whispered, straightening to find Cy smiling at her.
    “I knew you’d grow to love him.”
    “I don’t love him, exactly. He’s been through a trauma, and it’s hard enough having people always mistake you for a giant mole.”
    Manny blinked, a layer of dust blanketing his face. “Takes someone special to see the beauty inside the beast.” He sighed. “Your mother could always do that. Loved me, ugly parts and all.”
    It struck her like a blow, emotion so strong she couldn’t breathe. To glimpse her mother and father through a different lens that revealed them to be two people she did not fully know. Katy, the love of Manny’s life. Katy, her mother.
    How she missed her with every breath and every beat of her heart. Drunk, weak, unstable, an absolute disaster of a parent. Yet there was a hole in Rosa’s heart the exact size of Katy Elizabeth Franco. Did her father have a hole like that in his own heart? The longing in his eyes felt like a blade in her chest. Throat thick, she blinked furiously and turned away. “I’d better get busy.”
    Though Rosa began meticulously spreading tarps to protect the floor and furniture, she found her fingers were not as steady as she desired. She managed to dribble primer on the back of her hand. And passing the small mirror on her way to retrieve more primer, she was aghast to find white paint streaked across her cheek. “Oh, man.”
    “Rosa?” Cy called. “Come here a minute, can you?”
    She arrived at the window seat in time to see both Cy and Manny leaning down, in postures of acute concentration.
    Cy held a finger to his lips. “Do you hear that?” he whispered.
    She listened. A soft scrabbling noise emanated from the window seat. “Oh, no. That’s not a rat, is it? How could a rat get in there?”
    “From underneath in the crawl space,” Cy suggested. “Could have found a way up from there.”
    Manny climbed up on the nearest chair. “We’ll have to call someone. An exterminator or zookeeper or something,” he announced from her perch. “I hate rats.”
    “Now let’s not panic,” Cy said, “until we know what we’re dealing with.” He applied a crowbar gently to the rotted wood.
    Manny tensed. “No, Cy. It could get out.”
    The front door opened and Bitsy came in, glowing in a sapphire sweater set Rosa had not seen before. She ushered in a wiry man with a notebook and camera. She glanced at Manny on the chair. “Uh, Mr. Finley, this is Rosa and Cy, the owners of Dollars and Sense Design, and their assistant, Manny.” She smiled wanly. “Everyone, this is Mr. Finley, a local reporter who’s doing an article for the Pacific Trail newspaper about the contest.”
    Inwardly, Rosa groaned, eyeing her father standing on a chair, hammer held like a sword in front of him. Smiling wide, she went for charming. “Well, hello, Mr. Finley. We’re just working through a construction snafu.”
    By way of greeting, he aimed the camera and snapped a picture. “Interesting decorating technique,” he said with a grin. “Does it help to stand on a chair?”
    “Actually...” Rosa began just as Cy pulled up a corner of the rotted board, which broke in half as it came away. The events unrolled like some nutty Three Stooges vignette. Something rodent-like shot out of the dark space below, tail unfurled as it raced from the window seat and pelted under the dining room table. Bitsy screamed and the