1. Two Couples, One Bed #3
But Delilah was already marching to the back office, footsteps decisive against the hardwood floor. “You’re both going to need stiches if we don’t get this inn under control.” She didn’t even knock on Mama’s office door, just pushed it open and disappeared inside.
Scarlett sighed. “That could’ve gone better.”
Luna sank back onto her stool. “I never wanted this job.”
“None of us wanted—well, no, I lied. Delilah lives for this shit. Hey, let me see the book. Is it really as bad as she says?”
“I mean, define bad.”
Scarlett’s eyebrows did a little dance as she flipped through the pages.
“Oh, dude . . . These notes are just . . . I mean: ‘Woman wants quiet. Like autumn leaves, she will fall. Into October.’ What? Or this one: ‘Someone called about, a weekend thing in a month, I said sure, we’re good.’ Luna, these aren’t reservations .
. . wait, these are haikus. Have you been sitting were writing poetry all day? Mama is going to absolutely—”
Mama’s voice echoed from her office. “Girls! Get in here!”
“Told ya.” Scarlett clapped her baby sister on the back. “This oughta be good.”
* * *
Mama’s office door stood slightly ajar, and through the gap Luna could see Delilah’s rigid posture in one of the chairs facing the desk. Even from behind, her sister radiated fury like a space heater set to “incinerate.”
A framed photograph sat on Mama’s desk: Mama in the center with Papa’s arm around her shoulders, three little girls arranged around them, everyone laughing at one of his terrible jokes, probably something about a witch who walked into a bar.
“Well?” Mama settled back in her chair, her face suggesting she already knew what they were going to say. “What have you done to my inn?”
Luna just stared down at her lap.
“It’s, um, manageable,” Scarlett said carefully. “Luna’s creative note-taking has created some . . . issues—”
“Issues?!” repeated Delilah. “Created some issues?!”
“—but I think we can smooth it over without too much drama.”
Luna held her breath, waiting for the explosion. Surely Mama—much like her mini-me, Delilah—would be outraged by the chaos, the disruption, the sheer unprofessionalism of it all.
Instead, she simply nodded. “Well done. Crisis management is one of the most important skills in the hospitality business.”
“Wait . . . what?” Luna blinked in confusion.
“I said, well done.”
“But what about the mess I made? Aren’t you furious?”
“Yeah, Mama,” Delilah interjected pointedly, “aren’t you?”
“How could I be furious about Luna struggling with a job that I now realize she was never properly trained for? Luna, you’re brilliant at magic, beyond gifted.
But attention to detail has never been your strength.
I should have made sure you had more support.
Which is why Delilah and Scarlett need to take a more active role in training.
I can’t expect you to learn hotel management through trial and error. ”
“Mama,” Delilah said, “I’ve been working with Jasper at the archives. It’s important work, and—”
“And it will be there waiting for you. Family comes first. Surely Jasper understands that.”
“Of course, but—”
“Girls, listen to me.” Mama’s fingers drummed against the desk.
“People think Oak Haven is some quiet little hamlet where nothing happens. But you all know that’s untrue.
Every time we turn around, it seems, we’re under attack by some disgruntled magician or other.
” She paused, her expression growing distant.
“What happened over Christmas, when the magicians took some of us prisoner? Could happen again. Or worse. I need to know that all of you are prepared.”
“Yeah actually,” Scarlett asked, “what was it like, where they held you? You never talk about it.”
Mama’s face went carefully blank. “I don’t care to discuss it.”
“We were told they held you in a space between portals,” Scar pressed. “The Void, or something?”
“Yes, the Void. It exists nowhere and everywhere simultaneously. And were it not for a kind stranger we encountered . . .” She shuddered slightly. “No. We will not speak of it further.”
The quiet stretched uncomfortably. Finally, Mama straightened, her businesslike demeanor returning. “The inn needs someone who can handle whatever crisis might arise. Luna, I’m thinking at least two years of intensive work to really master hotel management.”
Two years.
Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. A car drove past on the street. Normal life continued, while Luna’s came to a screeching halt. In the photograph, Papa’s smile seemed to mock her predicament. What would he think of his adventurous daughter trapped behind a hotel desk for two years?
“But I . . . I don’t . . . that is, I mean . . .”
“It’s natural to feel overwhelmed. That’s exactly why you need more training. With proper preparation, you’ll do wonderfully.”
Luna turned desperately to her sisters. Scarlett was chewing her lip and staring at her with pity, while Delilah picked at a loose thread on her cardigan.
Luna closed her eyes and pictured herself on a windswept plateau, knee-deep in alpaca shit.
At the bottom of a shark tank, gasping for oxygen. Anywhere, really.
My gods, I gotta get out of this town.
She wondered if the Void was hiring.