“Slingin’ drinks?”
Laire finally understood what was happening here and why Kyrstin had been so quick to “help” Laire: she had her own agenda. She needed an excuse to take a different position at the Ocracoke Bistro, and Laire getting a job there was a good reason.
“Don’t like the thought of one of my gals behind a bar.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Kyrstin asked defensively.
“Seems base.”
“You’re old-fashioned. My tips’ll be double.”
Their father shook his head, looking troubled. “Nothin’ wrong with bein’ old-fashioned, gal. You think this is a good example for your little sister?”
“Hard work and honest money?” said Kyrstin, raising her chin. “Yes, sir, I believe it is a good example.”
“All this talk about money. You need money? Seems like Remy is doin’ fine. Thought maybe you’d quit waitressin’ when you settled down, not work more hours.”
Kyrstin placed her hand on her father’s knee. “Daddy? You know the old Carver house?’
The Carver house was a centuries-old mansion close to the harbor on Corey Island. It had been a sea captain’s house in the 1800s, then an inn, then a restaurant, but for a good fifteen years, it had been uninhabited, battered by the elements, and given only minimal care by a local real estate office.
“Course,” said their father, wrinkling his eyebrows. “What of it?”
“We’re buyin’ it,” said Kyrstin. “Me and Remy. We’re goin’ to renovate it and reopen it as a bed-and-breakfast.”
“A what?”
“An inn.”
“For who? Ain’t nobody on Corey need an inn.”
“For tourists, Daddy.”
“Tourists on Corey?” he humphed. “Leave that to the Ocracoke folks. Don’t need tourists here.”
“It’s what me and Remy want. Our own business.”
And that was the moment Laire knew that she couldn’t say another word and would need to be a complicit vehicle in her sister’s small deception. They all had dreams, it seemed, and this one belonged to Kyrstin. Laire would do whatever she had to do to ensure it came true for her.
Her father’s eyes shifted to her. “What do you think of all this?”
“I really want the waitressin’ job,” said Laire.
“I mean, about the Carver house.”
“Chateau le Poisson,” said Kyrstin quietly, her cheeks coloring. “Means Fish House . . . in French.”
“Ch-Chateau le Poisson.” Laire nodded. “It’s a fine idea, Daddy. ’Bout time we had an inn on Corey. Ocracoke’s got at least six or seven now.” She added quietly, mostly for Kyrstin’s benefit, “And I think it’d make Mama real proud.”
Kyrstin snapped her head around to look at her little sister, mouthing “thank you” as she swiped at her eyes.
Hook Cornish knew defeat when it sat green-eyed in front of him.
“Fine. You make some extra change for your Fish House,” he said to Kyrstin. Turning to Laire, he added, “Want that I have a word with Mathers before you start? Ask him to keep an eye on you?”
“No!” cried Laire.
“No,” said Kyrstin, a little more smoothly. “I’ll do that, Daddy. And besides, I’ll be there to look out for her. She’ll be just fine.”
“Well, then,” he sighed, looking up at Laire in defeat. “I guess you can use the Stingray. Keep it gassed up, Laire. And if I need it from time to time, you be sure to hitch a ride with your sister and Remy, yeah?”
Laire nodded. “Course, Daddy.”
“Now leave me be a while, girls,” he said, closing his eyes and leaning back into his chair. “I’m mommucked.”
Laire confronted her sister later, in their shared room, while she changed into an outfit for her secret date.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded. “About the bartending, and the Carver house, and . . . and all of it?”
“The house was a secret. And I only got the idea about bartendin’ this mornin’, after I talked to you. Bernie’s been grousin’ about Monica quittin’. I called him and offered to take over the bar. He said yes, and with the extra money, Remy and I decided we could finally place a bid on the Carver property.”
“Is that really what you want to do? Open an inn?”
Kyrstin nodded. “You know it was always Mama’s dream, right? I read it in one of her school workbooks.” Her smile was wistful as she shrugged. “You ain’t the only one with dreams, Laire.”
“Mama’s dream was to open an inn?”
Kyrstin nodded. “She outlined the whole plan: buy the Carver house, renovate it, add a restaurant. It was all there. I showed it to Remy, and he just about fell over—he was just as excited as me. We can do it, Laire. We can make Mama’s dream happen.” She grinned. “And you just helped us. A lot.”
Kyrstin kissed Laire on the cheek and ran to tell Remy the good news.
And Laire took such satisfaction in helping her sister, and, by proxy, her mother, that it assuaged all of her immediate guilt about lying to her father.