Thump.
She turned around to see that Auntie Zee had plopped a leather-bound book on the reception desk. Scowling, she flipped open the pages. Calisa drifted closer to see—
“Gah. Private.” Auntie Zee shooed her backward.
Calisa took a step away but still tried to peer at the book. It was full of handwritten notes neatly spaced in columns, like a guest register. Or was it more than that? On one side of the page, she spotted a list of expenses, as well as supplies. It looked like Auntie Zee kept all the inn’s records in this book, instead of, like, a spreadsheet. Given the state of the inn, Calisa supposed it wasn’t a surprise to see that Auntie Zee hadn’t upgraded to computers.
At least she’d progressed from ink and quills.
“Guests at the Faraway Inn are all afforded privacy,” Auntie Zee said. “You will respect that for the three days you are here.”
At least three days was better than “leave in the morning,” which was where the conversation had started. She thought of the line from her moms’ favorite movie:Good night, Westley. Good work. Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.
Maybe after three days she’d be able to convince Auntie Zee to let her stay another three, and after that another three, until all of a sudden, boom, it was September and Calisa was fully healed from her heartbreak, emotionally stable, and ready to return.
“That’s important: you must respect the guests’ privacy. Do you understand?”
“Of course.” She’d follow whatever rules Auntie Zee wanted, so long as she was allowed to stay. Clasping her hands behind her back, Calisa hoped she looked responsible and respectful. She wasn’t certain that was possible after just pathetically pleading for mercy, but her goal now was to convince Auntie Zee that she’d be an excellent addition to the summer staff.
Auntie Zee added a notation to the guest book. “You can stay in room two.”
“Great!” Before she could ask a follow-up question—such as “Where’s room two?” or “Can I have the key?”—she saw a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head, but all she saw was the blurry streak of her reflection in the grimy mirror—hair matted from rain, shirt still damp, face a hazy smudge.I look like a half-drowned mouse.Pessimistic mirror indeed.
Calisa turned back toward the reception desk. The logbook was gone, squirreled away wherever Auntie Zee kept it, and, more significantly, so was Auntie Zee.
How had the old innkeeper scooted out of the room so fast? She hadn’t seemed that speedy. Also…well, it was kind of rude. Calisa had just arrived. Granted, Auntie Zee didn’t want her here, so she could hardly expect a tour or any kind of grand welcome, but still…
None of this is what I expected.
She stood for a moment, unsure what to do. Fix the hole she’d made? Change out of her soggy socks? Chase after Auntie Zee? Call home and tell her parents…what? She’d tell them she was fine, of course. She’d made it here safely.I’ll be fine.Probably. Maybe.
Coming down the stairs, Jack said, “Ah, you’re not in a hole!”
She glanced up at his cheerful face as he took the steps two at a time. “And you’re not inexplicably carrying a gargoyle. How things change.”
“He doesn’t like rain.”
She was ninety-nine percent sure he was joking. Eighty-five percent? It was hard to tell, given his excessively earnest face. As he reached the bottom step, she said, “Auntie Zee told me room two. Do I just take the key?” Calisa waved her hand at the wall of hooks with skeleton keys behind the reception desk. “Also, do you have a hammer, nails, saw, wood, and knowledge of how to fix a broken porch?”
“You talked to her! Great!” He looked enormously relieved, also surprised. More surprised than she thought he should be.Then again, he probably knows how unfriendly his boss is.He added, “I was planning to fix the hole after it stops raining.”
“I think it stopped.” Crossing the lobby, she opened the front door and peered outside. “Sort of?” The rain pattered down in sparse drops, as if the sky were a dishcloth that was nearly wrung out. Out in the yard, the statue was sleek with water. Drops dripped from her outstretched hands.
He joined her in the doorframe. “Close enough.”
There was still an hour or two of daylight left. Calisa had taken the earliest train she could so that she’d arrive with time to settle in. Plus the sun set late this time of year. She should have time to do a little carpentry before it was fully dark out. How long could it take to patch a few broken boards?
“And yes,” Jack said, “if Auntie Zee said room two, then you should take the key for room two. But, um, don’t go into any of the other guest rooms, okay? Even if the keys are there. Not sure if she said so, but Auntie Zee is very particular about that. She assigns the room, no changes allowed.”
“Sure, no problem.” Calisa had no intention of wandering into random rooms. “Let me just change my shirt and socks and then I’ll be back to fix the porch.”
“Um, sorry about doubting you before, whether you’re supposed to be here. I just…I didn’t know she’d invited you. She’s been pretty adamant about not hiring anyone new. Dad’s asked lots of times. Usually she just grunts, but sometimes she launches into this impressive monologue about the importance of self-sufficiency. She’s run this B&B for decades. She doesn’t want to let a stranger muck it up. Not that you’re a stranger.You’re family. Guess that makes it different.” He smiled at her, and it was like the sun coming out after the rain.
Wow, that was quite the smile. She wondered if she should tell him it was just a three-day probation. On one hand, it was embarrassing that her own great-aunt didn’t want her to stay, but on the other hand, it was possible Jack could help convince her. “She didn’t toss me out immediately, but she also didn’t agree to the full summer. Yet.”
The smile wavered. “So you know about the inn, right?”
“To be honest, no, I don’t know anything about working at a bed-and-breakfast.” She dropped her voice lower as she said that, in case Auntie Zee was listening. If Ethan were here, he would have told her to project confidence. He was a huge believer in blustering his way through any situation—it was one of the things she’d admired about him when they first met…and despised about him at the end, when she was the one he was lying to. But there was something about the way Jack was looking at her that made her not want to pretend to be more than she was. “I was thinking if I can fix the porch, it would help with Auntie Zee, except I’ve never actually fixed a porch before.” Or anything, really. There wasn’t much cause for carpentry in an apartment in Brooklyn.
