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“Sounds like a plan, Ava. I hope your day gets better.”
“I hope the same for you,” I said, then walked toward the guests. “Hey, everyone. Thank you for being so understanding. I’m happy to say we’ve been given the all clear, and you can go back inside. If you’re checking out this morning, we’ll give you an extra hour if you need it.”
Gretchen and Della would have to work a little harder to turn over the five rooms that would need cleaning, in addition to the usual daily cleaning duties in the common areas, but I had no doubt they could do it. If not, I’d pitch in and help. We had ten reservations coming in this afternoon, so it was going to be a busier week all the way around.
As everyone filed into the east wing and Gretchen and Della headed to the housekeeping headquarters, I went into the inn kitchen to see if there were any visible signs remaining of my screwup. It was slightly smoky, with a lingering odor. As I eyed the baking mess I’d left on the counters, my phone buzzed. I pulled it out and saw a message from Cash.
Bring the muffin ingredients to the cottage. I’ll whip some up for your guests while I’m here.
Damn. This was the “nice” I wasn’t sure I could handle, and the tears that came to my eyes again were proof.
Another buzz.
Or you can run to Sugar.
My stubbornness kicked in.
I’m not going to Sugar. I can mix some more up.
We need to make sure they rise.
Of course that detail hadn’t escaped him.
Fine. You can bake away.
With pleasure. Once you bring me the ingredients.
As I gathered the flour, eggs, sugar, cinnamon, and other items, I heard voices in the lobby. I finished stuffing the ingredients in a grocery sack then went out to find the Bianchis there with their luggage, ready to check out. I set the bag on the back counter and checked them out, chatting about their vacation to Dragonfly Lake.
“What was your favorite thing?” I asked Lucy, the bolder of the two little girls.
“Cookies!”
I laughed. “You must’ve visited Sugar.”
She nodded, and even Lilac, her quiet sister, perked up at that, her eyes sparkling.
“We loved Sugar,” Mrs. Bianchi said. “And going on a boat and shopping in the toy store and—”
“And pizza!” Lucy hollered, jumping up and down.
“And pizza.” Mr. Bianchi smiled and shook his head. “We could’ve stayed in Cincinnati for cookies and pizza,” he muttered to me good-naturedly.
“But maybe not boating?” I asked.
“This lake is breathtaking,” Mrs. Bianchi said, “and the town is adorable. We’ll definitely be back next year.”
“I hope you’ll stay with us again. We enjoyed having you.” I slid their receipt—handwritten, because that’s how Aunt Phyl did it, and we weren’t yet set up for anything more advanced—across the counter.
“We wouldn’t stay anywhere else. We’re so sorry about Mrs. Sharp,” Mrs. Bianchi said, more subdued. “You’re doing an admirable job stepping in.”
I forced a smile, because I could argue that statement but I wouldn’t. “Thank you. You have a safe trip home and we’ll see you next year. Call anytime to reserve your room.”
The family of four said goodbye, and even shy little Lilac blew me a kiss as they walked out the door. With an exhale, I thought,my first check-out, and the party seemed more than satisfied with their stay at the inn.
Maybe the morning wasn’t a complete disaster after all.
I took out the sign that directed guests to text me if they needed me before I returned, placed it front and center on the counter, grabbed the bag of baking ingredients, and set off for the cottage with mixed emotions.
