“Mom. MOM. MOM!” Taylor was getting impatient. “Madeline!”
“Fuck!” Madeline snapped her head around and smacked the side of the shelf. “I’m trying to find a – what do you need?”
“What should I do with this?” Taylor held an encrusted sauce pot at arm’s length. “It was in the fireplace. With about ten metric tons of cat shit.”
“The fireplace that we can use?”
“Well, it was in some kind of fireplace annex thing… Apparently a cat really liked it in there,” Taylor replied.
“Do you mean the bread oven?”
“I guess that bread could have theoretically been baked in there… before the cat, obviously. Oh God – do you think that the cat was baked? The people before us were so freakish. They probably ate the cat.”
“They didn’t eat the cat.”
“How do you know?”
“I guess I don’t actually know…”
“Knowledge is half the battle, but we – “
Taylor was interrupted by the ring of the front desk bell.
“Can you deal with that?” Madeline’s request was filled with barely concealed exhaustion. I’d kill for a day off, she thought.
Waiting in the lobby was Lucy, the wedding coordinator. She had a casserole and – much more importantly – a bottle of wine. “Hi, Neighbor! Came over to check on you. And feed you.”
Taylor turned and yelled into the inn. “Mom – “
“I heard.” Madeline came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Thanks, Lucy, you’re an angel.”
Taylor excitedly grabbed the bottle of wine. “Did the people before us cook their cat?” Her tone was matter-of-fact, but she was clearly invested in the answer.
“Taylor – ” Madeline sighed and took the wine bottle from her daughter. “Thank goodness it’s a screw cap – we can’t find the wine opener.”
“Fiiine,” Taylor sighed dramatically. “But seriously, did anyone die in the house before we got here? Is it haunted?”
“I told you a million times,” Madeline replied. “I asked the realtor AND the town clerk if there were any reports of hauntings and they both told me in no uncertain terms that there were no ghosts here.”
“I’ve lived here my whole life, and I’ve never heard even a rumor of the house being haunted. Granted, it is really old…” Lucy was interrupted by a loud crash from the kitchen.
“If that’s your damn dog again…”
“I’ll go get her.” Taylor interrupted before her mom could finish the threat and pushed through the swinging doors.
“Seriously, how’s the first three weeks been?” Lucy asked.
“Three weddings, more than 270 breakfasts, I don’t want to even count the toilets I’ve scrubbed, and one call to the police. And I’m out of clean underwear,” Madeline replied. “So… normal? I guess?”
“But do you have a clean glass?” Lucy asked as she grabbed the bottle of wine back and unscrewed the cap with a flourish.
“I only need a mostly clean glass today. Or a funnel.” Madeline closed her eyes and imagined her kitchen back in Texas: brand new appliances, sparkling white counters. A functioning dishwasher.
Taylor returned from the kitchen. “No dog, no damage in the kitchen that wasn’t already there,” she reported before her eyes landed on the newly opened bottle of wine. “Ooooh! Let me get a few mostly clean glasses.”
“We’ve been focusing less on ‘perfect’ and trying to embrace ‘better’,” Madeline explained with yet another sigh. “But the glasses are clean. The dishes and glasses may be the ONLY thing clean in that kitchen that is clean…”
“That bad?” Lucy took charge of pouring wine when Taylor returned with three glasses.
“I swear half of the equipment and part of the ceiling were held together with grease. Once I started cleaning, shit just started falling apart. And I really need a day off. Maybe in November.”
Taylor took her glass with a snarky grin. “Here’s to living the dream…”
“Living the dream,” Madeline and Lucy echoed. Glasses clinked.
“I’ll send George over to look at some of the broken things,” Lucy volunteered. “He can take care of small stuff until Michael is back and settled. When is that by the way?”
“February 4,” Madeline and Taylor replied in unison. “Not that we’re counting,” added Taylor.
A loud pop and smell of ozone interrupted their conversation.
“Dammit. The wiring here is making me crazy. We have lost four lamps this WEEK,” Madeline lamented.
“You mean bulbs?” Lucy asked.
“No, I mean lamps. When they pop like that replacing the bulb doesn’t help. Time for the electrician. Yay – another bill.”
“How did the septic estimate turn out?”
“Five figures…”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah.”
They sat for a moment and looked at the lamp, sipping their wine.
“I’m gonna get out of here… enjoy the casserole.” Lucy grabbed her keys.
Madeline started to stand up, but everything hurt.
“I know my way out – you just try and relax for a sec.”
“Ok – see ya.”
Taylor and Madeline sat quietly and listened to Lucy’s footsteps as they echoed on the wooden floor, clanked on the trap door, and headed to the front. Something about that was odd, Madeline thought. But really, who cares at this point?
“Did you notice that it took Lucy an awfully long time to get out the door?” Taylor asked.
“Maybe she was putting her coat on or something.” Madeline sipped her wine.
Taylor looked out the window. “Or maybe she was already in her car when we were still hearing her walk.”
“Please don’t start,” Madeline scowled. “I’m exhausted.”
“I’m just curious…” One look from her mother shut Taylor’s mouth.
“Can we just eat and talk about anything other than this house and all the problems -structural, mechanical, or supernatural – that we are facing?”
Madeline grabbed the casserole, Taylor grabbed the wine, and they went to the dining room.
Madeline changed the subject. “So, your application is completed and submitted?”
“Yep! If all goes well, I’ll be back in Scotland next fall.” Taylor couldn’t help but smile. “And ah cannae waite,” she added in a perfect Glaswegian accent.
“I’ll really miss you, but I also need you to go.”
“I get it. Same here – except I’m doing the going.”
“So what is up for next week? Another busy weekend?” Madeline wiped her hands on her jeans, which was becoming a habit, and relaxed back into the chair.
“Mom, I thought we weren’t talking about inn problems?” Taylor teased
“I know, I know… it’s just so all-consuming right now. At least leaf peeper season is almost over. Isn’t that a weird term: leaf peeping? I wonder where it came from.”
Their conversation was interrupted by footsteps creaking in the lobby.
“Guess Lucy forgot something.” Madeline went to meet her in the living room. It was empty. Madeline shivered, a queer, shaking feeling from somewhere inside her torso.
Fucking hell, she thought. Now I’m going bonkers.
“No one here but us humans!” Madeline called out, trying to sound less disturbed than she felt.
“Mom, just let me do a little research,” Taylor said as Madeline came back into the room. “Nothing major – just the library and maybe online. I might have to pay…”
“Fine. But I’ve got too much on my plate to actually worry about before I start making shit up to worry about.”
“OK. Ok I won’t tell you a thing,” Taylor said. “Unless it’s exciting and/or relevant. But you need to find some chill or you’re going to be a ghost. Let me get you some edibles – I can go to Massachusetts …”
“You are not going to cross a border to buy drugs! You’ll never get a job…”
“Mom, it’s Massachusetts, not Mexico! Besides, it’s not real drugs. AND it’s legal there – and here, actually. Seriously, we haven’t been here all that long and I swear I saw a gray hair on your head today.”
“You’re kidding.” How did I not notice that? Madeline thought. “Maybe I do need to ‘find some chill.’ Happily, it seems that we can just buy some. Don’t make a special trip for me, but if you’re headed that way, I won’t complain.”
“Vermont is a fast-food desert. I’ll go down tomorrow and indulge in a bit of tater tot therapy, and maybe even go to a book store! Or the mall – oh civilization, how I miss thee!”
“You can go for three minutes with out a french fry,” Madeline sighed.
“It’s been three weeks,” Taylor said.