"I know."He shifts from foot to foot."But Sage, if that roof goes in a winter storm, you'll have water damage throughout the second floor.We're talking structural damage, mold, potential ceiling collapse?—"
"Stop."I hold up a hand."Please.I can only handle one catastrophe at a time."
"There's more."
"Of course there is."
"The heating system is making that noise again.And the electrical panel in the east wing is...concerning."
"Concerning how?"
"Fire hazard concerning."
I laugh, but it's the kind of laugh that suggests imminent mental breakdown."Fantastic.So I need about fifty thousand dollars I don't have to fix problems that will destroy the inn if I ignore them, but I only have two weeks to find eight thousand or I'll lose the inn anyway."
Tommy's face softens."Sage?—"
"And you know what the really fun part is?"I'm on a roll now, pacing my porch in Luke's t-shirt and yesterday's jeans."I've been playing pretend with a cybersecurity billionaire who probably spent more on his train car than my inn is worth.Acting like this partnership is going to save everything when really I'm just...postponing the inevitable."
"You're not?—"
"I am, Tommy.I'm playing dress-up in a world I don't belong in, pretending I can save this place with marketing and hope and a security system that takes diplomats hostage."
"The ambassador thing was pretty funny," Tommy offers.
"It was, wasn't it?"I shake my head.“Luke's face when he got that call.Like someone told him his code had developed sentience and was demanding rights."
"Luke," Tommy repeats."Not Mr.Sterling?"
I flush."We...it's hard to explain.”
“Hard to explain like ‘his car stayed overnight’ kind of hard?”
"Don't you have a roof to condemn somewhere?"
"Already done.Condemned yours."But he's smiling now."Look, Sage, I know things seem impossible.But you've kept this place running through worse."
"Have I though?"
"Remember the great pipe burst of 2019?"
"That was different.I had savings then.And hope.And Grandma Rose's secret cookie recipe that made everything seem manageable."
"You still have the recipe."
"I stress-ate all the chocolate chips."
Buttercup chooses this moment to escape through the door I left open, making a break for freedom with my coffee filter still in her mouth.
"Buttercup, no!"I lunge after her, Tommy right behind me.
What follows is five minutes of extremely undignified goat chasing.
Buttercup leads us through the garden, around the gazebo, and eventually up onto the roof of the garden shed, where she stands like a tiny, coffee-filter-eating mountain climber.
"How did she even get up there?"Tommy asks, breathing hard.
"She's part spider, I swear."I'm bent over, hands on my knees, Luke's t-shirt now decorated with mud and what I hope is just garden dirt."Buttercup, please come down."
