Chapter Three #2
He measured the second board, then began sawing it.
Returning to the key question, she asked, “Auntie Zee? What’s she like?
” She also wanted to ask: Did he like working here?
How long had he worked at the B&B, and when had it begun to fall apart?
Did he know? Was he here full-time? Did he live at the B&B?
Did he have a girlfriend? Did he like girls?
Did he like her? Whoa, Calisa, no, she told herself. That’s absolutely not why you’re here.
“She’s…Well, I’ve known her since I was a kid.”
“You grew up here?”
“Yeah. Used to live just a few miles away. You’re from New York City?”
“Brooklyn. You said ‘used to.’ Do you live at the inn now?”
“Yep, room six,” he said. “We—that is, Dad and I…My mom died when I was born. Dad and I used to have our own place, not much, but home. Anyway, Auntie Zee needs us here now, so we’re here. Hired us both, package deal.” He shrugged as if that were a complete explanation of his life.
Together they began nailing in the new boards.
She had at least used a hammer before, to help Mom-Kate put pictures up on the wall, but those had been gentle taps.
It was a lot more satisfying to drive a nail into a thick board.
She only missed a few times, denting the wood on either side of the nail.
“Why won’t Auntie Zee hire more people?” Calisa asked. “I mean, I get the wonders of self-sufficiency and independence and all that, but it’s an inn. It’s supposed to have staff. Cooks and cleaners and maintenance people.”
He didn’t answer, and she thought he was focusing on the task at hand, but when she looked up, he was staring out at the garden as if she’d asked a complex question.
Finally, he said, “She doesn’t want to.”
“Uh, okay.”
Jack returned to hammering the nails with greater concentration.
“She can’t afford it?” Calisa guessed. She’d noticed how few of the room keys were in use, compared to the total number of rooms. It would most likely cost a lot to refurbish a three-story building and even more to hire additional full-time help.
But if Auntie Zee couldn’t keep the inn clean and not falling apart, then fewer and fewer guests would return…
. She wondered how close the bed-and-breakfast was to failing entirely.
Maybe this is why she’s so unfriendly. “If she needs the help, though, why send me away? I’m a relative. Free labor.”
He shrugged.
It could be pride. Auntie Zee didn’t want to admit she needed help. Calisa could understand that. Her great-aunt had founded this inn, built her business on her own, and now she was supposed to be okay with accepting help? Especially from relatives she hadn’t seen in years?
“I’ll start cleaning tomorrow,” Calisa said. “I think that’s top priority.” And also it was within her skill set. She’d dust everything first, then figure out where Auntie Zee stored the vacuum. She had to have one.
“Usually top priority is whatever just broke,” Jack said. “Or whatever a guest needs, which is why the routine stuff doesn’t get done.”
“Do the guests usually need a lot?” she asked.
Hammering in the last nail, he didn’t answer at first. He hit it one more time then rocked back on his heels. “Depends on the guest.”
That was vaguely ominous. “Oh?”
“We once had a guest who loved bacon. Only bacon. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, tea. The whole inn smelled of bacon. He even got himself a hot plate and cooked up his own as a midnight snack.”
“I mean, kind of excessive, but bacon is excellent.”
“Yeah, but…Anyway, it was bearable until we got a guest who had a pet potbellied pig.”
Calisa winced. “Oh no. He didn’t.”
“He didn’t, but only because Auntie Zee had a talk with him. Otherwise, definitely would have been Bacon Fest. Wish I could’ve heard what she said.” He sounded both wistful and admiring. “But, um, don’t repeat any of that, okay?”
She opened her mouth to say of course, but he didn’t give her a chance.
Jack stood up abruptly, as if he regretted how chatty he’d been. “I’ll put the tools away,” he said. “Can you get a broom so we can sweep up the sawdust?” He gathered the extra nails, safety goggles, saw, crowbar, and hammer as he spoke.
“Sure.”
He darted away before she could ask where to find a broom.
He ran so hot and cold—it was as if the instant he noticed he was relaxing around her, he pulled back. How was she supposed to win him over if he so clearly didn’t want to be won? Not that she needed to, but it would be nice. And he could help with Auntie Zee.
She guessed she’d need to find a broom closet to find a broom, but where exactly? Going into the B&B, she searched. Upstairs was unlikely—those were probably all guest rooms. Through the kitchen, she discovered a narrow hallway with multiple closet-like doors. She tried them, one after another:
Coat closet.
Pantry.
Towels.
Birdseed, potting soil, and…“Alligator feed?” she read the label out loud. Ask later. She closed the closet door. She hadn’t imagined the inn would have so many supply closets. “Where are you, broom?”
She approached the next closet, a narrow and tall one, and opened the door. Inside, it was as black as a moonless night. Wind slammed into her face, and she heard a howling scream.
Calisa clapped her hands over her ears.
A wrinkled hand slammed the closet door shut in front of her, and she staggered back to see Auntie Zee glaring at her.
“Broom?” Calisa squeaked.
“I’m far too old for this,” Auntie Zee grumbled.
A second later, Auntie Zee opened the same closet door to reveal a perfectly ordinary broom closet with a variety of brooms, mops, and sponges. Calisa realized she’d hung back, in case it was the howling darkness again. “Before—when I opened it…”
“You’re tired. You had a long journey.”
“Yes, but—”
“It’s a broom closet.”
Of course it was, but—
“First rule of the Faraway Inn: don’t open doors without permission,” Auntie Zee said. “Ever.” Muttering to herself, she selected a broom and shoved it at Calisa before she began waddling away toward the kitchen.
Calisa grabbed it before it fell. “What are the other rules?”
From the kitchen doorway, Auntie Zee looked back at her. “Other rules?”
“You said that was the first rule. What are the others?”
Auntie Zee snorted. “Only one other rule.”
“What’s that?” Calisa asked. It would be better to know right from the beginning, so she didn’t make any more mistakes.
She only had three days to do everything right, make herself useful, and convince Auntie Zee to let her stay, as well as possibly figure out what on earth she’d just seen (and heard) inside that closet, which she didn’t think had been caused by her overtired mind or her overactive imagination…
except it must have been, because the closet clearly held cleaning supplies.
The broom in her hand, solid and ordinary, was proof of that.
“Auntie Zee, what’s the one other rule?”
“Don’t ask questions.”