area. Better have one of your lawyer relatives organize that for you. At a quick glance, I’m seeing lots of nice stuff that you won’t want broken. Put it away. Especially anything that might be valuable or look valuable.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not kidding. You’d be surprised how many people just slip a little souvenir into their pockets. They think, since they’re paying such high prices to stay, eat, and shop on the island, that they deserve it.”
“Wow.”
“You need to get a credit card machine. You need to decide what kind of record-keeping program you want, which one you can work with most easily. You can talk to Martha at Computer Solutions but you’ll also need to run it by your accountant. You need to check to see if your guests can access the Internet in this house. Do you want them to have coffee/tea in their rooms? Do you have maids to help make the beds and clean the bathrooms every day?”
Carley shook her head. “Reverend Salter’s nephew Kevin is here. We don’t make his bed every day. He doesn’t have afternoon tea, either. We don’t change his sheets …”
“Right. He’s just renting a room. That’s quite different. Look, I don’t run an inn. I’m just hitting some of the points. You’ve got to talk with an innkeeper.”
Carley buried her face in her hands. “Lexi, I don’t think I can do this.”
“Maybe not,” Lexi responded bluntly. “But maybe you can. And maybe it’s just what you need. When I came back from New York, I was divorced and miserable and lost. My business saved my life, in more ways than one.”
When the girls arrived home from school, Carley had them sit at the kitchen table with her. She’d set out snacks of fruit and cookies, and she asked them about school, and then she cleared her throat.
“Girls, I’m thinking of opening a bed-and-breakfast. An inn. We’ll have guests staying with us.”
“Like Kevin?” Margaret piped up hopefully.
“Well, sort of. Probably, they’ll be older people. I’ve got a ton of work to do, and I’ll be using Daddy’s office as an office for the B&B. Which means that I’m moving a lot of Daddy’s things out.”
Margaret tugged on a lock of black hair. Cisco’s face turned stubborn.
Carley continued, cheerfully, “I thought you girls might like to go through Daddy’s office and find some things of his you’d like tokeep in your room. The sailing trophies, maybe. Cis, you might like his desk set.” She waited for a response, but the girls didn’t speak. “I’m going to box up Daddy’s legal books. Some of the others I’m putting in the living room for the guests to read on rainy days. Things are going to change here, girls. They have to. I need to find a way to make some money, and with this big old house, I think I can.”
Cisco’s face was set. “If we lived with Nana and Granddad, you wouldn’t have to make money.”
“Cisco, this is my home. This is your home. This is Margaret’s home. We are not moving out of it.”
“Well, I think you’re stupid.”
Carley hesitated, then let it go. “It’s going to be fun! Every room will need some chairs, a little writing desk, a little table.”
“Strange people in our house,” Cisco muttered.
“Cisco, I need to find a way to make money. I’m doing what has to be done.” Suddenly Carley was exhausted. She could see the strain on both her daughters’ faces, too. “All right. It’s a sunny day. Enough talking. Go play.”
“I don’t
play
,” Cisco snapped as she exploded from the table. With her hand on the door, she turned back to Carley and snapped, “Have you told Nana and Granddad about this?”
“Not yet.” Carley forced herself to be calm. “I wanted to tell you girls first.”
14
• • • • •
T he next morning, as soon as the girls were off to school, Carley pulled on her dress coat and boots and walked down toward the Winsted legal offices on Centre Street. When she came to the distinguished brick
“You’re kidding.”
“Not kidding. You’d be surprised how many people just slip a little souvenir into their pockets. They think, since they’re paying such high prices to stay, eat, and shop on the island, that they deserve it.”
“Wow.”
“You need to get a credit card machine. You need to decide what kind of record-keeping program you want, which one you can work with most easily. You can talk to Martha at Computer Solutions but you’ll also need to run it by your accountant. You need to check to see if your guests can access the Internet in this house. Do you want them to have coffee/tea in their rooms? Do you have maids to help make the beds and clean the bathrooms every day?”
Carley shook her head. “Reverend Salter’s nephew Kevin is here. We don’t make his bed every day. He doesn’t have afternoon tea, either. We don’t change his sheets …”
“Right. He’s just renting a room. That’s quite different. Look, I don’t run an inn. I’m just hitting some of the points. You’ve got to talk with an innkeeper.”
Carley buried her face in her hands. “Lexi, I don’t think I can do this.”
“Maybe not,” Lexi responded bluntly. “But maybe you can. And maybe it’s just what you need. When I came back from New York, I was divorced and miserable and lost. My business saved my life, in more ways than one.”
When the girls arrived home from school, Carley had them sit at the kitchen table with her. She’d set out snacks of fruit and cookies, and she asked them about school, and then she cleared her throat.
“Girls, I’m thinking of opening a bed-and-breakfast. An inn. We’ll have guests staying with us.”
“Like Kevin?” Margaret piped up hopefully.
“Well, sort of. Probably, they’ll be older people. I’ve got a ton of work to do, and I’ll be using Daddy’s office as an office for the B&B. Which means that I’m moving a lot of Daddy’s things out.”
Margaret tugged on a lock of black hair. Cisco’s face turned stubborn.
Carley continued, cheerfully, “I thought you girls might like to go through Daddy’s office and find some things of his you’d like tokeep in your room. The sailing trophies, maybe. Cis, you might like his desk set.” She waited for a response, but the girls didn’t speak. “I’m going to box up Daddy’s legal books. Some of the others I’m putting in the living room for the guests to read on rainy days. Things are going to change here, girls. They have to. I need to find a way to make some money, and with this big old house, I think I can.”
Cisco’s face was set. “If we lived with Nana and Granddad, you wouldn’t have to make money.”
“Cisco, this is my home. This is your home. This is Margaret’s home. We are not moving out of it.”
“Well, I think you’re stupid.”
Carley hesitated, then let it go. “It’s going to be fun! Every room will need some chairs, a little writing desk, a little table.”
“Strange people in our house,” Cisco muttered.
“Cisco, I need to find a way to make money. I’m doing what has to be done.” Suddenly Carley was exhausted. She could see the strain on both her daughters’ faces, too. “All right. It’s a sunny day. Enough talking. Go play.”
“I don’t
play
,” Cisco snapped as she exploded from the table. With her hand on the door, she turned back to Carley and snapped, “Have you told Nana and Granddad about this?”
“Not yet.” Carley forced herself to be calm. “I wanted to tell you girls first.”
14
• • • • •
T he next morning, as soon as the girls were off to school, Carley pulled on her dress coat and boots and walked down toward the Winsted legal offices on Centre Street. When she came to the distinguished brick
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