Page 90 of Once Upon a Fall

Both sets of drawn-on eyebrows shoot up.

Obviously, progress has not been made at all.

Also, how in the heck did they know that? It’s true that they stopped by the other night to discuss all that the high school is doing for the festival, but it wasn’t like I told anyone.

“It was just a quick meeting,” I tell them.

“Well, shoot,” says Edna G. “We were hoping you could give us some intel.”

Did I notice some tension between Ari and Wade? Yes. You could cut it with a knife. Will I be telling these two gossip queens? Absolutely not.

I walk over to the door and hold it open for them. Time to nip this in the bud. “Thanks for stopping by, ladies.” I usher them out with a sweep of my hand toward the door.

Shutting the door, I lean up against it and take a cleansing breath.

If I survive the next few days without a total breakdown, it will be a miracle.

“We need to settle the bill,” Dean says, sitting next to me at the island later that night. He made stir-fry again. The first meal he ever made me and now the last one.

I want to sob into it.

“For the food?” I ask him. I’ve been buying most of the groceries while he’s been cooking. That felt more than fair to me, but maybe not as much to him.

“For the room,” he says.

“Oh,” I say. I quickly wipe my hands on a napkin and turn to him. I was prepared to have this conversation tomorrow, but I guess we’re doing it now. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I can’t, in good conscience, charge you for staying here.”

His brows pinch.

“You’ve spent the entire month helping me with the rooms,” I say, cutting him off from the rebuttal I could see forming. “And you fed me.” I gesture toward my half-eaten plate of stir-fry—that I will be finishing.

“I wouldn’t have gotten this done without you. I can’t make you pay for the room too.”

His lips are pulled into the straight line of disapproval.

“Will you make the balloon payment without it, though?”

I nod. “I did the math, and if I can get the bank to push it out just a week, which I think is possible, I can do it.”

“Have you talked to the bank?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I haven’t had time.”

He stares at me. “I’m paying you for the room, Rosie.”

“Dean,” I say. “I can’t let you do that.”

“I rented a room from you, and I’m paying for it.”

“You slept on a crappy mattress while installing floors, baseboards, bathroom tile, and hanging pictures,” I say, counting off on my fingers. “This place would still be in shambles if it weren’t for you.”

He shakes his head. “You need the money for the payment.”

“I’ll figure it out. Maybe I can take a loan from my dad or something. If the bank doesn’t work with me.”

“You haven’t even told your dad about the loan.”

“I’ll tell him.” I shrug. “It’ll be fine.”