Chapter Eighteen Unexpected Visitors
Kitty
Glenna arrived at the SnowDrop Inn like she had been expected , which would have been impressive if it had been true.
I was at the front desk mid-morning, juggling check-out questions and a delivery that had arrived three hours early, when the door opened and a woman in a bright red coat swept inside with the confidence of someone entering her own living room.
She was small, gray-haired, and smiling in a way that felt both delighted and oddly proprietary.
“Oh good,” she said. “You’re here.”
I looked up, already smiling politely. “Welcome to the SnowDrop Inn. How can I help you?”
She leaned closer, lowering her voice as if we were sharing a secret. “I need one of the good rooms. Not the tiny one by the stairs. He wouldn’t like that.”
My smile held. “Who wouldn’t like that?”
She laughed softly. “Caleb, of course.”
Something inside me shifted, subtle but alert, like a bell rang once in a quiet room.
“All of our rooms are comfortable,” I said carefully. “Are you checking in today?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for this for ages. I’m Glenna.”
She beamed, as if the name alone should mean something. I nodded and reached for the register.
“I’m Kitty.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I know.”
A warning bell rang in my mind.
She clasped her hands together, excitement practically vibrating through her. “You’re even prettier in person. He chose very well.”
I kept my pen steady. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Glenna waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, modest. I like that. He needs someone like you. Someone sweet. I’ve always said that.”
I glanced toward the lobby, half expecting Lydia to materialize, because this was exactly the kind of moment she would enjoy pranking me with. However, it was just me and Glenna and the growing certainty that this conversation was not going to follow the usual script.
“Do you have a reservation,” I asked.
She nodded briskly. “Of course. I booked it myself online. Took me three tries. Technology is not my strong suit, but love makes a person persistent.”
I found her name in the system. As I handed her the key, she leaned across the desk and patted my hand. “You’re going to make a wonderful granddaughter.”
I laughed reflexively, because sometimes politeness happened before sense. “I’m sure you’re very kind.”
“Oh, I am,” she agreed.
She swept up her bag and headed toward the stairs, humming under her breath. I watched her go, unsettled in a way I couldn’t yet articulate.
I was still standing there when the front door opened again.
Caleb stepped inside, shaking snow from his jacket, his expression intent in that familiar way that told me he had come here with a purpose. Relief washed through me before I could stop it. Whatever this was, at least I would not be alone in it.
He smiled when he saw me. “Hey. Do you have a minute?”
“I do,” I replied.
Before I could chat with Caleb, Glenna reappeared at the top of the stairs like she had sensed him.
“There you are,” she cried, hurrying down with surprising speed. “I knew you would come.”
Caleb froze.
“Glenna,” he said, carefully.
She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him before he could step back. He stiffened, hands hovering awkwardly at his sides.
“I’ve missed you,” she said, patting his shoulder. “You look thin. Are you eating?”
“I’m fine,” he replied, gently but firmly disentangling himself. “You can’t just grab me.”
She laughed, unconcerned. “You always say that.”
“Do you know each other?” I wondered.
Glenna ignored me and gestured proudly at herself. “Do you like my shirt?”
It was a white t-shirt with Caleb’s face printed across the front, smiling broadly, a guitar slung over his shoulder.
“And I brought you something,” Glenna continued, rummaging through her bag. She pulled out a sweater, thick and aggressively patterned, pink, orange, and yellow colors clashing in a way that felt intentional. “I knitted it myself.”
Caleb’s mouth twitched. “It’s… very warm.”
“I made it with love,” she said. “And extra yarn. You never know with winters.”
“Glenna,” he said, lowering his voice. “We need to talk.”
She nodded eagerly. “Yes. We do.”
I cleared my throat. “Maybe in the sitting room?”
Glenna turned to me, delight lighting her face again. “You’re just as sensible as I hoped.”
Caleb’s eyes met mine, apology flickering there, mixed with something heavier.
“I came to talk about the interview, but first I need to take care of this,” he said quietly.
“She’s wonderful,” Glenna interrupted, gripping my arm and pulling me against her side. “I’ve decided I’m going to like being her grandmother.”
Caleb exhaled slowly.
This was fixation dressed up as affection, I realized.
“Glenna, you have a restraining order. You know you can’t be around me or my family,” Caleb told her.
My heart stumbled. “What?”
“She tried to pick up my niece from school. She said she was helping,” Caleb revealed with a grimace.
I stared at Glenna, who was now humming again, unfolding the sweater with reverence. “I wanted to spend some quality time with Abby. Besides, the order expired. I can be anywhere I want to be.”
I stepped away from Glenna to stand beside Caleb.
“She’s not dangerous,” he added quickly. “But she’s not… grounded.”
Glenna looked up, catching the tail end of that. “I’m perfectly grounded. I just care.”
As she launched into a detailed recounting of the first concert she had ever attended, complete with dates and setlists, I felt the world tilt slightly. The interview had brought attention to both me and the inn. This was not contained. This was not small.
And somewhere behind us, I saw a phone lift. Someone took a picture.
Caleb followed my gaze, his expression hardening.
“We need privacy,” I decided.
He nodded. “Yes. We do.”
I gestured toward the hallway that led to the library. “This way.”
As we walked, Glenna waved cheerfully. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”
I did not doubt it for a second. I closed the library door behind us with a soft, solid sound that felt like relief.
I leaned back against the nearest bookshelf for a moment, breathing in the familiar scent of paper and lemon polish, grounding myself.
Caleb stood a few feet away, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, shoulders tight.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have warned you.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think there’s a warning that fully prepares someone for… that.”
A corner of his mouth twitched. “That’s fair.”
“She’s going to be a problem,” I said quietly.
“Yes,” Caleb agreed immediately. “I’ll call my lawyer today, hopefully we can get the restraining order reinstated right away and get her out of here.”
I looked at him then, really looked at him, and felt something warm and complicated settle in my chest. There it was again. The truth that kept surfacing whether I invited it or not. “Others will come, won’t they?”
His jaw tightened. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Now that my name is attached to yours publicly, people are going to come looking. Fans, groupies, curiosity seekers… This is an inn where we can’t vet for that type of thing and we want people to stay.” I folded my arms, thinking it through as I spoke.
Caleb’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I never wanted my issues to affect you, or your family.”
“It already has,” I said gently. “And pretending any different won’t make it go away.”
He looked up, eyes searching my face. “We should probably stop fake dating. If we break up publicly, then they should leave you alone.”
The words hung between us, heavy and careful.
“Do you want to break up with me?” The words were small and out before I could stop them. It hurt that he was ready to just end things at the first sign of trouble.
“I don’t want to keep pretending if it makes trouble for you,” Caleb replied.
I squeezed my arms around myself, uncertain of what to say or do.
He took a step closer to me, his expression serious. “I like you too much to have you get hurt over this. Maybe it’s for the best if we stop seeing each other.”
“What if it hurts more to not see you?” I whispered. I didn’t dare look up at him. “What if I would rather date you for real?”
I stood there, my heart pounding.