9. Chapter 9
Rosie
The castle sprang a leak. The princess had not budgeted for leaks.
Everything is a disaster.
My second-ever guests are arriving in five hours, and this morning, I found a leak in the bathroom of the Cinderella room.
A leak. In the freaking just-finished bathroom.
Bad enough that I used all my clean towels to mop it up. Bad enough that I had to call in Kory Saunders—the town plumber—to check it out. He’s currently working on it.
And whatever this costs will come directly out of the money I’m trying to scrape together for the balloon payment. I wonder if the bank would take pastries as part of my payment?
I’m saying all the prayers that it’s an easy fix because if not, I have no place for my guests to stay—unless a blow-up bed in the living room would work?
I’m going to go out on a limb here and say probably not.
“Rosie, dear.” Edna with the dark hair comes waddling out of the front room, the yellow one on her heels, the two of them abandoning their quilts like they’ve been lying in wait for me to surface.
Right. Also on this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, I have a quilting circle going on in my front room.
Quiet as church mice, my butt.
It’s been nothing but loud laughing and everyone talking over each other and a lot of Huh? What did you say? I can’t hear you? Repeat that?
Heaven help me.
“Did you hear about Wade Stevenson and Ari Langford at the game last night?” the dark one asks, dropping her voice like someone might repeat it, even if everyone in that room already knows, as does—I’m guessing—most of the town. If not, the Ednas will make sure they do.
Like they are doing right now at this very moment.
I did not know this because I was busy putting the final touches on the Cinderella room, only to have it all come crashing down this morning because of a stupid leak.
“It’s a scandal,” the yellow one says, sounding thrilled about it. “It’s all over the Instant-Gram.”
“So inappropriate for the principal of a high school and his new teacher,” Dark Edna says. “In front of the whole town.”
“Indeed,” the yellow one says, adding a tsk for emphasis.
Once upon a time, I was the gossip these two ladies were spreading around town, and while this one is juicy, I’ll admit, I also know how it feels to be on the other end of it.
It’s not fun. I also know from experience, there’s way more to the story than the version I’m currently getting.
And if they’ll do this to Ari, I don’t even want to think about what they’d do with the man currently under my roof.
As far as they know, he left on Tuesday, and I want to keep it that way.
This is why Dean was ordered to stay upstairs during the quilting circle, which he was surprisingly annoyed about. He actually wanted to see one. When I explained that it’s literally women sitting around, quilting, he changed his mind.
Who am I kidding? I’m sure the Ednas already know he’s still here. They don’t just have eyes in the back of their heads. They must have them all over their bodies, and some detachable ones that can do their bidding.
At least they seem to be more focused on this Ari-and-Wade business. For now.
Thank goodness, because those gorgeous dark eyes and that lovely stubbled jaw would give these ladies way too much fodder.
I should say something to the Ednas that doesn’t give them more to work with.
But I’ve got my own crises to deal with right now, so all I say is, “Very interesting. Don’t you have some quilts to be making, ladies?
” And then I hustle back up the stairs to see if Kory has figured out where the leak is coming from.
“Did you find anything?” I ask Kory, who’s currently on his knees, head inside the cabinet under the sink and about two inches of his butt crack currently hanging out above his pants, giving credence to the proverbial plumber’s crack.
“Afraid so,” he says to the inside of the cabinet.
“Supply line let go overnight. See this nut here?” He backs out enough to point a stubby finger at the fitting.
“Compression joint. Wasn’t seated quite right, and it picked last night to give up on you.
It’s nothing you did wrong—sometimes they hold for ten years and sometimes they hold for ten days. No rhyme or reason to it.”
“So, how bad is the damage?” I ask, crossing my fingers behind my back that he’ll tell me it’s an easy fix.
“Well, that’s the bad news,” he says, and my stomach dips.
“The line itself I can button up in twenty minutes. The problem is that it ran all night.” He nods at the cabinet floor, a dark line creeping out from under the baseboard.
“It soaked the cabinet, got into the flooring, and wicked out under the wall there. You’ll want fans on it a good couple of days to clear it up. ”
I swallow. Two days of fans? Maybe my guests won’t mind some fans in their rooms for the night? I can sell it as ambiance?
“Are you sure a couple of hours won’t do the trick?”
Kory shakes his head, sitting back on his heels. “You’ll need at least two days, or you’ll be smelling mildew by Christmas.”
That’s just slap-me-in-the-face fantastic.
I thank him for his help and leave him to it, going two doors down to the Rapunzel room, where Dean is currently working on the floor.
That’s right, he’s still helping me with the inn. The morning after he told me he wanted to stay for the month, he was already in the Cinderella room, helping Dominic and me move furniture.
He’s my actual knight in shining armor. Only he’s currently wearing jeans and a gray T-shirt, and wielding a rubber mallet as he installs the vinyl planks.
“What did the plumber say?” he asks when he sees me.
“It’s worse than I thought. The leak got through the cabinet and under the floor. It will take at least two days of fans to dry it up.” I put my back to the wall by the door and slide down it until I’m sitting on the floor, because if any morning has earned a dramatic floor-sit, it’s this one.
“Do you think they’ll notice big noisy fans in their room?”
“I’m guessing yes,” he says.
I put my face in my hands. “What am I going to do?”
“Easy,” Dean says, and I look up at him, surprised by his answer. “Put them in the Sleeping Beauty room.”
“But that’s your room,” I say.
“And I can move out for the night.”
“Where would you go?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I’ll figure something out.”
Hope blossoms in my chest. “I could find you a place in Burlington.”
“That’ll work.”
“Are you sure?” I ask him. “That’s a lot to ask of you.”
“It’s one night.”
I let out a long breath, as if I’d only been taking short, shallow ones since I woke up this morning. “Dean, you really are my knight in shining armor.”
He crinkles his brow. “Because I’m giving up my room for your other guests?”
“Yes, and working on the floor of my inn, and making me dinner. How can I ever thank you?”
I know he’s getting tired of my thank-yous, but I don’t know what else to do. I don’t think he’d take pastries as payment.
“You can start by finding me a room in Burlington, while I work on this,” he says, giving me a little smirk before going back to hammering in a piece of the flooring.
“I can definitely do that.”
It turns out I can’t find him a room in Burlington. Every freaking hotel is booked solid for Family Weekend at UVM.
We’re sitting on the nearly finished floor of the Rapunzel room, the house finally quiet now that the quilting circle has left, while I frantically search my phone for more options.
“There’s one room at the Rest E-Z motel,” I offer. “Nine hundred dollars for the night, and the latest review is not something I’m comfortable reading out loud, but let’s just say there is a mention of bedbugs.”
Dean doesn’t look up from the plank he’s setting. “I’d rather sleep in the garage.”
I sit up straighter, then slouch again. “Hal’s truck is still there.”
It’s been nearly two weeks, and he still hasn’t come for it.
And I’m going to need that garage soon. I’ve been storing all the staging furniture in the Beauty and the Beast room, but that’s also the last room I have to finish.
Once I get to it, I’ll need somewhere to put everything, and right now that somewhere has a truck in it.
Not that I’d actually let Dean sleep in the garage. Still, it would have been nice to know I had it as an option. Freaking Hal.
No, I don’t mean that. Hal’s dad’s truck is safe with me.
For now. At least until festival supplies start arriving.
I can’t exactly stack a bunch of folding tables in my entryway.
The truck will have to be gone by then. But that’s future Rosie’s problem.
Present Rosie has a more immediate one: Where is Dean sleeping tonight?
We’ve struck out on everything else. Cinderella’s out since we had to turn the bed on its side to fit all the industrial fans in the room, plus the decibel level would not be conducive to sleep and could cause hearing loss.
The other rooms are in various stages of disarray, and the living room couch is out with guests checking in tonight.
“Okay. Okay,” I say. “Dominic has a shed—”
Dean gives me a look that makes me miss the straight line of disapproval.
“That was a joke. Mostly.” I wince. “You could always bunk with the raccoons. They’ve got an entire house.”
“I’ll pass on that, too.”
I rack my brain for anything else. There isn’t anything else. There’s just the one idea I’ve been avoiding, and it’s a terrible idea, and I open my mouth and say it anyway.
“You could stay with me,” I tell him, and then watch the slow turn of his head as his eyes find mine.
“I mean in the studio. There’s a couch. I—I would stay on the couch and you could have the bed.
Or not. Never mind.” I shake my head. “It’s a dumb idea.
I’ll just keep looking for something. How do you feel about driving to Montpelier? It’s an hour away—”
“That works,” Dean says.
“Huh?” I ask. “You want to drive to Montpelier?”
“No, I’ll just stay with you.”
“Oh,” I say, trying not to sound surprised. Because I definitely am. “Um, okay, great.”