Page 15 of Once Upon a Fall

I grab my phone out of my back pocket, turn on the flashlight, and then slowly scan the space with it.

I curse under my breath when I see it. Or, rather, them. Gathered together in the far back corner, near what I’m guessing are all the boxes of Christmas decor. Several pairs of eyes reflect yellow in my phone’s light.

“What is it?” Wendell whispers loudly from below.

I slowly shut the attic door before coming down the ladder. “Raccoons,” I say, just as I get to the bottom. “A whole family of them.”

“That’s not good,” Wendell says.

I wipe my hands on my jeans. “No, it’s not. Know of any wildlife removal around here?”

He thinks about it. “No one here. I’m guessing you’ll have to find a company in Burlington.”

I give him a resigned nod. There go my plans for staying at the house. I can’t exactly share it with a family of raccoons.

“What’s your plan now?” Wendell asks.

“I guess I’m going to have to find a place to stay in Burlington.”

“There’s an inn on Main Street you could check,” he says. “I think one of the Harper gals bought it and has been fixing it up.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, not wanting to reveal the fact that I slept there last night and would rather take my chances with the raccoons.

We say our goodbyes after Wendell asks me to keep him updated on the raccoon situation and gives me a quick reminder that when I’m ready to paint, he and his “sons” will be ready and willing.

I lock the door and walk down the porch steps toward my car, disappointed that I won’t get to stay here after all, wondering how long it will take for someone to capture the raccoons in the attic and how much that’s going to cost.

One thing is for sure: I’m still no closer to knowing what my grandma meant, and driving back and forth from Burlington is going to be a pain. But I’ll make it work.

Two hours later, I park my car in front of Once Upon an Inn.

As it turns out, it’s move-in week for the University of Vermont, and there’s not one available hotel room in Burlington.

That’s not exactly true. There was a motel called The Rest E-Z that looked rent-by-the-hour and had one room left, but the seedy owner (who was missing a few teeth) tried to charge me triple for it. I declined and drove back to Autumn Ridge.

Fortunately, I’ve got a frilly pink room I paid for this week, and it happens to be my only option, because bunking with a family of raccoons wasn’t advised by the only wildlife-removal company that had called me back. I wasn’t really going to do it; I just wanted to know if it was an option.

I let out a breath before exiting my car and grabbing the suitcase from the trunk.

Walking up to the door, I feel a little sheepish about leaving like I did and now having to come back and ask for my room.

“Hello?” I say, walking into the inn. Once again, no one is manning the front desk. I can hear faint music and the intermittent sound of a drill coming from upstairs.

Leaving my suitcase, I take the stairs two at a time, following the sound to the room across from the pink room, the door slightly cracked.

I knock lightly, and the door opens a little more, revealing Rosie holding the drill and doing a dance to a Taylor Swift song I recognize but don’t really know.

She’s wearing denim overalls this time, protective goggles on her eyes, as she points the drill toward the ceiling and then toward the floor, her hips moving back and forth as she sings off-key with the music.

I smile to myself, shaking my head, but school my features before knocking on the door, louder this time, not wanting her to think I’m spying on her and laughing. Even if that’s exactly what I’m doing.

She spins around and then jumps, nearly dropping the drill. “Dean!” she says, getting her footing.

“Um, hello,” I say, sounding more robotic than I meant to. I give her a little wave, like I come in peace, which is so ridiculous.

I feel awkward right now because I’m sort of at this woman’s mercy. Not sort of, I am. She doesn’t have to give me my room back, even if I’ve paid for it. And especially not after how I left this morning.

She slides her goggles up on her head. “You scared me,” she says.