LITMIR.BIZ

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for you last time she visited us in New York?”

      “I like chocolate chip better,” Carrie grumbled, clearly determined to be displeased about everything.

      “Well, I love sugar cookies,” Caitlyn countered. “So I’ll eat them all.”

      “No, you won’t!” Carrie screamed. “Mommy, tell her she can’t have all the cookies. Some are mine.”

      Abby bit back a groan. “I’m sure there will be plenty of cookies for both of you. Now close your eyes. If you’re this impossible when we get there, you can forget about getting any treats. You’ll be going straight to bed.”

      The girls fell silent, but another glance in the mirror revealed them making faces at each other. Abby let it pass. She needed to focus all of her attention on the traffic, which had increased at least tenfold since the last time she’d driven home. She could hardly wait to turn onto some of Maryland’s less-traveled roads.

      Unfortunately, the traffic never completely let up. It seemed everyone had the same idea about heading to one of Maryland’s many seaside communities on a Friday night. Once, the only traffic nightmare had been getting to Ocean City or the other beaches along the Atlantic coast, but now it seemed people had discovered the smaller towns on the western shores of the bay, as well.

      She pulled out her cell phone and hit Jess’s number on speed dial.

      “The traffic is awful,” she said when her sister answered. “At this rate, it’s going to be another hour before we get there.”

      “I’ll let Gram know,” Jess said. “I’m on my way over there now. Take a deep breath. I’m picking up crabs and I’ll have wine waiting.”

      “Thank you, thank you,” Abby said. “See you soon.”

      It turned out to be an hour and ten minutes before she could make the turn into the community of Chesapeake Shores. At last, though, the traffic had eased. She debated going straight to the house, but since the girls were finally asleep, she wound through downtown, getting reacquainted with the Main Street businesses that lined a four-block stretch from the waterfront up to the town square.

      There was one visible vacancy, but all the other shop windows were filled with colorful displays. Barb’s Baby Boutique was next to Ethel’s Emporium, which carried everything from souvenirs and penny candy to fancy hostess gifts and locally produced jams and jellies. The Kitchen Store, which sold every gourmet gadget imaginable, was next to Seaside Gifts, where all the items had a nautical theme. There was a designer clothing store, which carried resort wear. And all of the stores had pots overflowing with colorful pansies and trailing vines by the doors and crisp blue-and-white awnings shading the windows. The pansies would be exchanged for bright red geraniums once spring turned to summer.

      With her car window open, she drew in a deep breath of the familiar salt air, then heard the soft refrains of an outdoor concert drifting up from the banks of the bay. She’d forgotten about the tradition of free Friday-night performances in the band shell during the late spring, summer and early fall months when the weather drew crowds to the town. It was jazz tonight, a little heavy on the sax, it seemed to her.

      She smiled, thinking of the debates she’d once had with her father about the appropriate mix of music for the early concerts. If it had been up to Mick and Gram, every week would have featured Irish singers and dancers.

      “Mommy, I hear music,” Carrie murmured sleepily. “Are we going to a party?”

      “Nope, but we’re almost home,” Abby told her. “Five minutes and we’ll be there.”

      She turned away from downtown and took the shore road to the very end where it began a winding climb up a gentle hill. At the top she made a left into the long driveway that ended in back of a classic beachfront home with a wraparound porch, lots of glass to take in the spectacular bay views and lights shining from every window. Two figures, one spry, the other a bit more stooped, emerged from the shadows on the porch as she pulled to a stop.

      “Gram!” Caitlyn shouted, already struggling to free herself from the car seat.

      “And Aunt Jessie!” Carrie boomed, trying to get the door on her side open. Abby released the child safety locks and Carrie sprang free, racing across the lawn to fling herself at her favorite aunt.

      Jess stumbled back, then caught her niece up in a massive hug, even as Caitlyn reached up to her great-grandmother for a more demure embrace, as if she knew instinctively to take more care with the older woman.

      Abby took in the scene with a smile. Why hadn’t she done this more often? Was she truly so busy? Or had she been making excuses because of her mixed feelings about home and the way she’d forced herself to walk away without looking back? Until now she hadn’t realized how much she missed being right here, with the sea breeze rustling through the trees, the sound of waves lapping against the shore and the promise of a whole pile of Maryland crabs and cold wine waiting on the porch, along with whatever Gram had baked that day.

      Her grandmother caught her eye and gave her a knowing smile. “It’s good to be home, is it not?”

      “It’s better than I expected,” Abby admitted. “How are you, Gram? You look good.” She certainly didn’t look her age, which was somewhere near eighty by Abby’s calculations, though her grandmother wouldn’t admit to it. Whenever any one of them had tried to pin her down, even for the sake of genealogical research, the date of her birth shifted to suit her.

      “I’m better with the three of you here for a bit,” Gram said. “Shall we feed the girls first, then have our own meal when it’s quieter?”

      “That sounds perfect,” Abby said.

      “Why don’t I take them inside and show them their room, then? I’ve put them in Connor’s since he has the twin beds in there. I can’t get your brother to take away a single one of his sports trophies and ribbons, though. It looks as it did when he was still sleeping there himself.”

      Abby grinned. “Cluttered and messy, then,” she said. “They’ll love it.”

      After the three of them had gone inside, she turned to her sister and gave her a fierce hug. “Now then, are you ready to tell me why I’m here?”

      Jess gave her a wry look. “Always eager to cut to the chase, aren’t you? Can’t you even take five minutes to relax?”

      “Not if you expect me to solve this problem, whatever it is, in a few days.”

      “I think it can wait a little longer. I don’t want to get into it until after Gram’s gone to bed. I don’t want her worrying.”

      Abby frowned. “It’s that serious?”

      “I told you life or death, in a manner of speaking,” Jess said impatiently. “Come on. I need a glass of wine—maybe two—before we get into all this.”

      Judging from her sister’s mood, Abby had a feeling she might need a few glasses of wine herself.

      Jess wasn’t entirely sure how she’d made such a mess of things. All she knew for certain was that she dreaded admitting any of it to her confident, successful big sister. Still, when her plans had gone south and she’d realized just how deep a hole she’d dug for herself, calling Abby—the family’s certified financial whiz—had seemed like the only sensible thing to do.

      She didn’t want to lose the inn. Even as a little girl, when she’d first seen the sprawling structure less than a mile away from their own house, Jess had imagined herself owning it. Just over a year and a half ago, right before Christmas, in fact, she’d spotted the For Sale sign in front of the inn as she was driving home. Bored silly by her job at Ethel’s Emporium, her heart had immediately done a stutter step. For the first time since she’d come home after college, she could feel a sense of anticipation and excitement building deep inside. This was it, her chance to grab the brass ring, to give herself a sense of purpose, to build the kind of future her family would approve.

      Initially,

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