Marie set about putting the copper kettle on the gas stove before wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "You can pick your flavor." She nodded toward the cupboard. Whitney knew it well.
But when she pulled the metal tea box down, it was suspiciously light. She flipped open the lid to discover exactly one package—a sleepytime tea.
Marie's entire face went red. "Oh no. I'm so sorry. I thought I had... I guess I need to add that to my list. I'm just..." She rolled her eyes at herself. "I can't seem to keep up with anything right now. The kids. The house. The guests."
Jessie began to squirm at the stress in her mom's voice, and Whitney bounced her until she calmed down. "Guests?"
Marie opened another white cupboard and produced two white packets. "Will instant hot cocoa do?"
Whitney nodded, her eyebrows still pinched together. "What guests?
Aren't you closed?"
"We should be. But Aretha needs a favor, and you know I can't say no to her." Marie swiped at a frizzy curl, suddenly looking more unraveled than she had just a moment before. "So now I have two guests checking in in a week, a Christmas pageant to direct, and I promised Little Jack that we'd make gingerbread houses and go see the lights. Plus, I'm supposed to host the cookie exchange this year, and I need to buy presents for the kids. Seth too, I suppose."
The way she tacked her husband's name on as an afterthought made Whitney chuckle, but the deep lines of stress around Marie's mouth quickly sobered her.
This was the worst time to beg for a favor—yet Marie was the only person she could think to ask. If her parents hadn't just moved into the condo in Charlottetown, she'd have asked to borrow their oven. Borrowing an appliance wasn't quite like being bailed out. It was just a little bit of assistance.
But her mom and dad were tucked into their cozy two-bedroom along the harbor, where they insisted they would revel in their pension years.
And if all went as planned, she'd be moving to Charlottetown shortly after the first of the year too. That just didn't solve her immediate dilemma.
Whitney pressed the tip of her thumb to the corner of her mouth and chewed gently on her nail, which tasted suspiciously like cinnamon. She frowned at her finger, and Jessie seemed to giggle at her problem.
Fine. That earned the little cherub a one-way trip to the floor. Which was apparently not punishment. Jessie scooted across the floorboards, opened the first cupboard she encountered, and immediately pulled plastic containers and their mismatched lids to the floor.
"I'm sorry." Whitney rushed to retrieve Jessie, but Marie stopped her with a hand to the arm.
"Don't worry about it. Jessie has long since decimated whatever organizational system Caden had in place in those bottom shelves. Better she's making a mess in here than exploring the Christmas tree again." Marie released a long-suffering sigh, pairing it with a smile that looked a lot like love for her youngest.
As she stirred the cocoa mix into two steaming mugs, spoon clanking, Marie looked over her shoulder. "So, what brings you by?"
"Oh, um..." Whitney was unable to form even the most basic words, her tongue having lost its way.
Marie held out one of the green mugs. The ring around the base was clearly the island's famous red clay. It was probably from Mama Potts's Red Clay Shoppe. Marie sold their plates and platters, bowls, and other dishes to guests all summer long.
Whitney wrapped her fingers around the warmth of the mug and inhaled the sugary steam. The sides of the cup were just a little bit uneven, a testament to the way each piece was crafted by hand.
From her place tucked into the corner of the counter, Marie raised her eyebrows as she sipped her own drink. "Are you all right since your folks moved? Are they doing okay?"
"Oh. Yes. They're great. They're...I guess they really like living in the city."
