Chapter Six
Still carrying an armload of sheets, Calisa hurried outside and called, “Jack?”
She heard hammering from above her.
Stepping off the porch onto the weed-choked walkway, she looked up at the roof.
Jack was straddling a hole in the shingles, a hammer in one hand and a chunk of wood in the other.
In the morning light, his hair was a halo, and he looked like an angel perched on top of a shabby cathedral.
A nicely muscular angel. She swallowed and dragged her mind back to the question of the sudden appearance of hot tea, a crackling fire, and the inn’s newest guest. “Hello, Jack?”
The hammering stopped.
A second later, Jack peered down at her over the edge of the shingles. “Everything all right?”
“Sure, fine, but I need to ask—”
Squinting at her, he asked, “Are you looking for the laundry? It’s at the end of the hallway off the kitchen.”
“I know.” It occurred to her that she probably looked ridiculous carting around an armload of random sheets. “But did you—”
“The detergent is on the shelf above it,” Jack said.
“Thanks, but—”
“It’s an old machine. Just use, like, a couple of teaspoons of detergent.” He looked concerned, as if he thought she might break it. “If you need—”
“There’s tea,” Calisa said quickly, before he could tell her about fabric softener, stain remover, or whatever.
“Can’t right now,” he said, “but thanks for the offer.”
Not what she was trying to say. He might be angelically gorgeous, but gah! It almost felt like he was being deliberately dense. Shifting the sheets to one arm, she pointed at the window. “I left the room for less than a minute, and when I came back, the teapot was full of hot tea. Was that you?”
He frowned, and then his expression lightened like he’d had a profound epiphany. “Ah, you must have accidentally hit the on switch.”
The on switch? She hadn’t seen any switch…or had she just missed it? She’d been more focused on removing the grime and cobwebs—and on scrubbing Ethan from her mind—than anything else. “You mean it’s an electric teapot? But I didn’t see a plug.”
“Battery-operated,” Jack said. “Honestly surprised the battery hasn’t worn down. Guess sitting dormant didn’t hurt it.”
Oh. Right. A battery-operated electric teapot. She supposed that made a lot more sense than the idea that Jack had shimmied down from the roof, made a pot of tea, put it on the tea tray, and then scooted back in less than a minute, in order to surprise her.
“Sorry it surprised you,” Jack said.
“How about the fire in the fireplace? Did you light that?”
“That must have been Auntie Zee,” Jack said. “She likes a nice fire, even in summer. Says it’s welcoming. Also, good for her joints or something?”
Calisa shook her head. “Auntie Zee was in the kitchen greeting the new guest.” Thinking of the guest, she scanned the driveway and the road as far as she could see before the forest swallowed it.
Since coming outside, she hadn’t seen even a hint of a car.
No taxi. No Uber. No limo. Not even a motorcycle.
“Did you see her arrive? The new guest, I mean. Auntie Zee called her Kendra.”
He smiled sunnily. “Oh, she came! Great! I was worried we’d have another cancellation.”
So he hadn’t seen her arrive?
Before she could ask, he said, “Always kind of a jumpscare when she comes. She likes to arrive on foot.”
“On foot?”
“Kendra’s a hiker,” Jack explained. “Loves the mountains. Probably came in off a trail behind the inn. Yep, she loves to hike.”
That seemed odd, given how impeccably she’d been dressed.
On the other hand, Calisa had walked the last stretch to the inn herself.
Maybe Kendra had also had an Uber driver who wouldn’t stop talking about fly-fishing.
But wouldn’t she have luggage? Calisa tried to think whether she’d noticed any suitcases.
She hadn’t been paying attention to that.
“You should offer her tea,” Jack said. “Or I can do it when I’m done with the roof, if you’re busy with the laundry. We can all have tea when we’re both done. If you want.”
That sounded like an excellent idea. “All right, it’s a date,” she said, and instantly hated that she’d said those words. She felt her cheeks blush. “Not literally. Just an expression.”
He didn’t seem to notice that she was blushing. He was gazing off into the distance, toward the sky above the pine trees. “My dad told me that the inn used to have tea every day, with little sandwiches and cakes. All I remember are the cakes. I don’t think I liked tea as a kid.”
“Do you like it now?” The question felt ridiculous as she asked it, but she found herself wanting to know the answer.
“Sure. I mean, I don’t know. The teapot has been broken for years, or I thought it was.”
She stared at him for a moment. He did know there were other ways to make tea than a battery-powered teapot, didn’t he? He could have just boiled some water on the stove or stuck a mug in the microwave. “We should restart afternoon tea, once I’ve got the front room clean.”
He brightened. “Do you know how to bake a cake?”
“Not without a recipe,” Calisa said, “but with one, yes. I didn’t pack a cookbook.
” She’d made a birthday cake for Crystal just last month, and it had turned out pretty good.
Lopsided but delicious. Chocolate with raspberry jam.
She’d even made her own buttercream icing. “Does Auntie Zee like cake?”
“I like cake.”
“How come you’ve never tried to bake your own?”
Now it was his turn to blush. His ears pinkened. “Um, well…Truth? Auntie Zee doesn’t let me cook. One of her rules.”
“Why not?” Because he was a guy? She knew Auntie Zee was grumpy, but she hadn’t thought that meant she was sexist. Scowling, Calisa wondered if she shouldn’t have volunteered to cook and clean.
She hadn’t meant to relegate herself to a traditional gender role.
It was just that the inn needed to be cleaned and the guests needed breakfast, and she knew how to do both, thanks to her moms’ love of assigning chores.
It had been her choice, not a default assumption.
In fact, Auntie Zee had given her no guidance whatsoever.
Jack ducked back so she couldn’t see his full face over the lip of the roof. “I kind of almost burned the inn down about a year ago when I was trying to scramble eggs.”
She bit back a laugh. He didn’t deserve to be laughed at. It wasn’t funny. “How…?” Okay, no, it was legitimately funny. “Scrambling eggs? That’s not even…What did you do?”
“Well, there was a bee inside the kitchen, and I kind of, well, overreacted. I was trying to get it out, and I was using a towel to, you know, scare it away—and I smacked the stove and knocked the skillet with the eggs onto the floor.”
She still didn’t see how that could almost cause a fire.
“I cleaned up, but I forgot to turn off the stove.”
“You’re blaming a bee because you forgot to turn off the stove?” Calisa said. That really didn’t sound like it was the fault of the bee.
“It would have been fine, except I’d also opened the window.
You know, so the bee would fly out? And then, well, leaves blew in.
It was fall. Really windy. Really dry leaves.
Like, kindling-dry. Anyway, the leaves landed on the stove, a few caught fire, and they blew around the kitchen…
. So, long story short, Auntie Zee won’t let me cook anymore. ”
Calisa burst out laughing. She tried to stop—it wasn’t nice of her—but the image of Jack fluttering around the kitchen with the bee and the fiery leaves…
She hiccuped as she swallowed her laugh.
As soon as she could breathe again, she said in a voice that only quivered a little, “So, is that why you don’t make pancakes either? Or tea on the stove?”
“Yep. I was kind of hoping to avoid telling you that story, so you don’t think I’m an idiot.” His voice drifted down.
“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” Calisa said. A little ridiculous. Adorable, even. But not an idiot. And she was relieved the cause of his ban wasn’t rampant sexism. That made her feel better about her own choice of tasks at the inn. “It could happen to anyone.”
“Yes! That’s what I told Auntie Zee.”
She imagined that Auntie Zee had scowled hard enough to curdle milk. There had probably been yelling, or at least a very disapproving grunt. “I do, though, think it’s not entirely the bee’s fault.”
“I’ll apologize the next time I see one,” he said solemnly. He leaned forward again, far enough that she could see his face. His cheeks and neck were still pinkish from blushing so hard.
“Good. When I get a chance, I’ll look for a cookbook that has a cake recipe.
” She wished she had internet access here, but whatever.
Worst case she could call her moms and have them look it up.
Mom-Kate liked store-bought cheesecake, and Mom-Elise always picked chocolate cake from the Little Cupcake Bake Shop on Vanderbilt for her birthday, but they could google a few recipes for her.
Calisa headed back inside. Auntie Zee and the new guest were nowhere to be seen, though she thought she heard voices drifting down the stairs. She dumped the sheets into the laundry machine and found the detergent where Jack had said it would be.
By the time she returned to the sitting room, Kendra was standing by the tea tray with a fresh cup of tea in her hands. “Oh! Hi!” Calisa said.
“If you had any training in innkeeping whatsoever, you would have offered me tea the instant I arrived.” Her voice was low and soft, as melodic as a wave, if that wave were irritated and vaguely British. “But I’m told you’re new and allowances must be made.”
Jack had said to offer her tea, but Calisa hadn’t had a chance.
“At least you’ve brewed a respectable beverage,” Kendra said. “You people and your coffee. Sewage swill. I won’t stomach it.” She picked up the sugar, inspected it, then set it down.
“I only like coffee if it’s mostly milk and sugar,” Calisa ventured. “Really, just milk and sugar with a slight flavor of coffee. Better if it’s got vanilla or hazelnut.”
“Swill.” Her eyes swept up and down Calisa, as if cataloging every detail for a scathing critique. “So…you’re the niece.” Turning her attention back to the tea tray, she picked up a saltshaker.
Calisa opened her mouth to tell her that was salt, but she was too late—Kendra poured a healthy amount of salt into her tea. “Um, yes, I’m Auntie Zee’s grandniece, Calisa.”
Carrying her teacup and saucer, Kendra swept across the room and seated herself in the conch-shaped chair.
“Since you’re new, I will be clear: you will not disturb me while I’m at my repose.
” She stirred her salted tea elegantly. Calisa had the sense that Kendra did everything elegantly.
“I come here for refuge, not to be gawked at, though I appreciate your admiration. I believe it’s essential to have a place where one can rest and recover, do you not agree? ”
“Absolutely,” Calisa agreed fervently. That was why she was here, after all.
She liked that framing a lot better than how Ethan had reacted—he’d told her she was running away and that if they wanted to fix the problems in their relationship, she had to stay and work through them.
She’d told him the “problems” were his lies, manipulation, and rampant assholery, and so no, staying was not going to fix anything, unless he wanted to take himself to the local veterinarian to “fix” himself so he wasn’t tempted to cheat anymore.
That conversation hadn’t gone well.
Kendra sipped her tea. “Ahh, exactly as I remember.”
With salt? Odd, but whatever. “What kind of cake did Auntie Zee used to serve with afternoon tea?” Calisa asked. She was liking the idea of restarting a daily tea. Already one guest was clearly pleased to have the front room available again and tea served.
“Rest and recover,” Kendra repeated. “In peace.”
“Sorry.”
Sinking farther into the chair, Kendra closed her eyes as she swallowed. Calisa wondered if she should keep cleaning or leave the room. This guest was almost as unfriendly as the inn’s cat.
“Victoria sponge cake,” Kendra said into the silence.
Hmm, that sounded potentially complicated to bake.
“Soft, tender, fluffy.” Kendra licked her lips, as if imagining it. “Cream and raspberry jam sandwiched between the layers of cake. I’d never tasted anything like it back home.”
“Where’s home?” Calisa asked politely.
Kendra’s eyes opened. “One does not ask that question here. Didn’t Auntie Zee tell you that?”
Calisa flinched. Auntie Zee had said not to ask questions, but she’d thought the standard where-are-you-from fell in the realm of acceptable small talk.
Guess it’s not just a loose guideline. “Sorry.” She wished she hadn’t asked.
It should have been okay to ask where Kendra was from, but maybe the stately woman was here to escape where she came from and who she was there.
Maybe she’s someone famous. A movie star.
She did have a dramatic flair to her, a confidence in the way she flowed through the room.
Probably Mom-Elise would have recognized her—she loved old movies.
“Since we don’t have cake right now, is there something else I can get you?
” She had no idea what was in the kitchen, but there must be something to offer guests.
“Just the tea is sufficient.” Kendra rose from her seat. “I will finish it in my room. In peace and solitude.” She swept out of the room, her shoes soundless on the rug, her silent exit pointed.
Calisa winced. That could have gone better. At least she’d seemed to like the tea, despite—or because of?—the salt. And at least the room was clean. Scanning it for any remaining cobwebs or spots of dust, Calisa noticed the fire had gone out in the fireplace, leaving an unburnt log.
Over on the tea tray, the teapot continued to rattle and brew merrily.