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haven’t you invited me to visit since Grandma’s funeral?” That had been two summers ago, Kim realized. It had been a time of terrible loss for Penelope, the loss of her mother coming so soon after her husband’s death.
    “I always thought you’d prefer meeting in the city, or having me come out to Los Angeles. I imagined you’d find Avalon terribly boring compared to life in the big city.”
    “Mom.”
    “And, all right, I didn’t think you’d be supportive of my enterprise.”

    “Your enterprise. The ‘guests,’ you mean.”
    “Well, yes.”
    “How many people are you talking about, Mom?”
    “Currently, I have three visitors. Dino owns the pizza parlor in town, and he’s in the process of remodeling his home, so he’s staying temporarily. Mr. Bagwell normally goes south for the winter, but this year, he’s staying in Avalon and needed a place to live. Then there’s Daphne McDaniel—oh, she’s just delightful. I can’t wait for you to meet her. And there’s room for more. We just finished refurbishing the third-floor suite. I hope to find a guest for that one very soon.”
    “Mom, what’s going on? Why do you have a bunch of strangers living here? Were you that lonely? I wish you’d said something—”
    “They’re not strangers. They’re guests. Paying guests. And believe me, they are no substitute for my daughter.”
    “You should’ve said something to me.” She winced with guilt as she thought of the visits with her mother in the aftermath of her father’s death. They had rendezvoused in Southern California, Manhattan, Florida. It had never occurred to Kimberly that her mother wanted her to come here. To come home.
    “My life has changed a lot since your father passed away,” her mother explained.
    Kim thought of Dino Carminucci. “I’d say so, Mom.”
    “I obtained a business license and started this right after Labor Day.”
    “This…?”
    “My enterprise. Fairfield House.”
    Kim’s head felt light. She wasn’t sure it was from the hot water, exhaustion or sheer confusion. “I had a long night, Mom, so forgive me if I’m a bit slow on the uptake. Are you saying you’ve turned this place into a boardinghouse?”
    “Indeed, I have.” She spoke as casually as she might have about getting her nails done. “And actually, it’s in keeping with family tradition. My great-grandfather, Jerome Fairfield, built this place with the fortune he made in textiles. At the time, it was the grandest mansion in town. Then, like so many others, he lost everything in the crash of ’29 and never quite recovered. He and his wife took in boarders. It was the only way to keep the house out of the hands of his creditors.”
    Kim had never heard that bit of family history before.
    “So truly,” Penelope concluded, “you could say it’s in my blood.”
    Kim was speechless, taking in the news the way she would if her mother had said, “I’ve taken up bungee jumping.” Or, “I’ve become a nudist.”
    When she found her voice, Kim asked, “And you were going to tell me this…when?”
    “To be honest, I’ve been putting it off as long as possible. I knew you wouldn’t be pleased.”
    “There’s an understatement. Taking in strangers, Mom? For money? Are you crazy?”
    Her mother stood up and placed a stack of fresh towels on the vanity stool. “Say what you will, Kimberly, but I’m not the one wearing an evening gown and spike heels on a cross-country flight.”
    “This is not crazy,” Kim said defensively. “This is a crisis, Mom. My own personal crisis.”
    Her mother smiled. “Then you came to the right place.”

    “So this boardinghouse—it’s a home for people in crisis?”
    “Not by designation, no. People in transition, though. They seem to find their way here, to Fairfield House.” She spoke with a curious pride.
    Kimberly studied her mother’s mild, sweet face as though regarding a stranger. Did she even know this woman anymore? Had she ever? Penelope