Kathy wondered why the lady hadn't left the property to her. A divorced mother who diligently took care of the business seemed a better candidate than a two-week acquaintance.
"It is a fine building. Mrs. Sloan told me your father had designed it," said Jesse.
"Yes, and Henry's father here," pointing to the owner of the café, who was now serving their meal, "built it."
Henry smiled politely. He was in his late-twenties or early thirties, half-way between plump and well-built - and positively shy.
"Henry, these are Kathy Schneider and Jesse Tanner. They own the Pink Roses and Patty's."
"Ah, pleased to meet you," he shook their hands. "It's nice to have new neighbors."
"Have you already decided where you are going to live?" asked Pat apropos of Henry's hint.
"I'll stay at the hotel, for the moment," answered Jesse.
"I think I'll do the same," said Kathy. The thought of living at Patty's had crossed her mind, but the hotel didn't harbor any memories, as did the Bed & Breakfast, so she decided it was a better option.
"But then… Oh… I'm sorry. I thought you two were… You know…"
Kathy was the first to speak.
"No, no, no, no. We…" she looked at Jesse. He looked back at her, awaiting her response. "Mrs. Sloan left her island properties to us both; that's all."
A six-year-old girl ran out of the kitchen. Pat introduced her as her daughter, which was completely needless, since she was Shirley Temple from head to toe. Not only her sparkling eyes, her dimples, her round face, her short curly hair crowned with a ribbon - her pose and her whole being were the Little Princess personified. Kathy recalled her first impression at meeting Steve Grant the day before and wondered if this black-and- white-films-resemblance-finding thing was some kind of phase she was going through. In any case, she liked it. It provided the island, in Kathy's eyes, with an extra amount of glamour that increased, if possible, its so far considerable appeal.