The Height Of Happiness

Chapter 3

Her alarm sounded off for a long moment before Serena searched in the dark to shut it off. The false glow of a sunrise paired with the sound of birds chirping had grown louder and louder until the time to wake up was inescapable. Serena had slept like a rock through the night, and it made her body difficult to move. Her muscles still felt like they were asleep as she shuffled to the shower down the hall. Letting the water get warm, Serena stripped out of her nightgown and saw her bare skin in the cold dim light of the morning creeping into the house.

Turning on the lamp sitting on the toilet, Serena looked in the wide gilded mirror hanging above her sink. She could see the stretch marks on her bre*sts and hips that had mostly faded away. Only her expert eye could catch the last trace of them. She looked at the soft heart shape of her face and the faintest little sunspots on the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were tired, but a glint of gold within the brown sparkled in the faintest of light.

It was moments like these that Serena Beauchene appreciated her body the most.

Getting clean and finding her favorite blue fitted sheath cocktail dress, Serena felt thankful the mild fall weather permitted her to go sleeveless. The shape looked like Audrey Hepburn’s iconic Givenchy black dress, but it stopped just at Serena’s knees and the soft knit fabric was a perfect royal blue shade. She slipped on some classic caramel-colored patent leather wedges that she could actually walk in all day long and her only set of pearls with their stud earrings to match. Keeping her makeup light, Serena evened her skin tone with tinted moisturizer and some berry pink lip balm. Batting her black eyelashes with mascara, Serena felt ready for the big opening of her weekend. There was no turning back now, and the chips were falling into place.

Grabbing a pinstripe black blazer just in case a chill attempted to catch her by surprise, Serena grabbed her bag of essentials and stepped outside into the morning fog. A familiar face was waiting for her in a golf cart from the inn. Serena beamed at him.

“Good morning, Grandpa.”

“Hello Princess,” he said in his usual gruff voice with a soft smile amongst his curly gray beard. “I brought you some coffee.”

“Thank you,” Serena took it gladly as they pulled off back down the road.

“Did you eat?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you want to?”

Serena smiled as they both heard her stomach grumble. “Yes, sir.”

Grandpa smiled, adjusting the brim of his tweed flat cap and his marbled brown glasses. He drove down the lane, not feeling a need to make idle chatter. Serena looked out at the remnants of fog trapped in the valleys of their hills, and then back at her grandfather.

Robert Beauchene was a man of old habits with distinct features. He’d always been strong, but age had softened him like the fade of his light denim shirt. He had the same light chocolate shade of skin and the same curls as Serena, but his hair now grew more on his cheeks than the top of his head. He shrouded his balding head with baseball caps he;d worn for Serena’s entire life, but on special days he pulled out the driving cap his wife had bought him when he needed a new weekend hat besides his Sunday Stetson fedora. The prescription glasses he got in the 1950s never seemed to change. The brown plastic brow line and metal rims under his eyes curved to his wrinkling features.

On his well-worn hands he still wore the same simple thin gold band he got from his wife, while on the opposite wrist was the leather banded watch with a gold face he received from his father after graduating from college with a two-year degree in business. Robert had been the first of his family to get a degree, and he’d vowed he would not be the last. He used money from this very land to get his son into school, and then sent Serena checks for books and fees every semester while she went to college.

Everything Serena was she owed to this stoic man, and she loved him for it.

“You look nice in your hat, Grandpa.”

He showed off the dimples on his cheeks, and drove them down to grab biscuits and bacon from the kitchens. Their banter was almost traditional at this point. Any big weekend, Serena found Grandpa at her door. He gave her coffee, and they would go have a quick and quiet breakfast together that he would always end with a joke.

Today, he told one she hadn’t heard since she was learning cursive and long division.

“What’s the difference between stabbing someone and killing a hog?” he asked as he held up his last piece of bacon.

Serena smiled and shrugged, “I don’t know. Tell me, Grandpa.”

With a grin playing at the corners of his mouth he replied, “One is assaulting with intent to kill. The other is killing with intent to salt.”

Serena couldn’t help but keel over where they sat at the small table by the kitchen doors. She laughed so hard that it got the attention of some guests eating their complimentary breakfast. The good feeling stayed with her as she spent the rest of her morning and day running about the inn, the barn, and the vineyard confirming everything was ready to go. Her afternoon stayed focused on the opening party for hotel guests, and she worked with florists, caterers, and even her friend Cassie who Serena had hired to make a dessert display.

“It looks delicious!” Serena exclaimed as they unveiled the table of treats. “I want it all taken back to my house where I can consume it alone.”

Cassie laughed, “No way! I want people to see these! I want to be the next Julia Child!”

Eventually, Serena had to go check the books with her accountant, but the hour she had dedicated to that became overshadowed by a confusion with wait staff. After arriving late to the money meeting, it finished as her party patio was filling up with people outside in the early evening air.