"And it will be," she says with an enthusiastic expression, rolling up her sleeves. "I'll help you. The flowers are missing, right?"
Without waiting for my answer, she marches over to the cleaning trolley parked on the concrete slabs in front of the cabin and gathers a bunch of daisies.
I put the mop aside, swiftly vacuum the doormat, and finally look up at the light bulb.
How am I supposed to reach that? What if I use one of the patio chairs as a makeshift ladder?
You might end up getting hurt, and nobody wants that, my mother cautions me in my thoughts.
"Well, what do you think?" Elina proudly presents her handiwork.
"Beautiful," I say with gratitude, nodding as I accept the flowers from Elina and arrange them in a vase on the patio table.
She looks around, searching. "What else can I help you with?"
"We're done. I just need to—"
Florian's voice interrupts from a distance. "Hanna?"
"I'll be right there!" I immediately shout back, promising to return later with a ladder to change the light bulb. I turn to Elina. "Sorry, I have to go."
"No problem, my patients are waiting anyway." Her cheeks flush again. She finds more joy in her work than anyone else I know. Being a doctor is her dream, and she gets to live it every day.
How lucky is she?
With a quick hug, she bids me farewell and dances away through the garden while I hurry to join Florian.
I return the cleaning trolley to its shelter and climb the uneven stairs of our house adorned with rustic wooden beams. The third step creaks particularly loudly. We should replace it before an accident happens.
I open the door and step into the cozy, warm hallway. The scent of the bread I baked this morning lingers in the air, making my stomach growl. But Florian is my priority now. I slip off myshoes and, in the same moment, feel Florian embracing me from behind.
"The guests should be arriving any moment. Is the cabin ready for occupancy?" He nestles his cheek against mine, his beard tickling my skin.
I lean my head wearily against his shoulder. "Yes."
"Great." He quickly pulls away from me. "Come with me, I have news," he says suddenly in a tone I can't quite place. Serious, yet a little mysterious.
Curious, I follow him into the study and let him guide me to his desk, which occupies an entire side of the room. Disordered piles of papers coexist with full blue and red folders. Almost instinctively, I start picking up the scattered paper clips.
With a sigh, Florian drops into the imposing swivel chair and reaches for the computer mouse. Deep furrows appear on his forehead.
I slide the paper clips into their designated box. "What's wrong?"
"Well…" He clears his throat right away. "I didn't want to worry you, so I haven't said anything until now, but…"
"But?" Apprehension creeps up in me. His serious businesslike demeanor intensifies my feelings.
He strokes his blond hair with both hands and locks his fingers at the nape of his neck. "Our guesthouse is not doing as well as we hoped. And most of the income we get is used for repairs."
My apprehension turns into concern. In the past seven years, Florian has been handling the bookkeeping. Even though I don't have access to the finances, I can well imagine that it's true. There's always something broken, and our cabins are increasingly left empty. "The accommodations are showing their age."
"Exactly. And we don't have anything special to offer our guests. The late check-in and early checkout service hardly attracts anyone."
Does that mean I’ve cleaned the cabins in record time for the past few weeks for nothing?
He logs into his computer and opens the accounting software. "In the past three months, we have been in the red. And that's despite the fact that we don't even have to pay wages and have received the money from the grant I landed at the beginning of the year."
I lean against the desk, utterly bewildered. Is it really that bad? Why didn't he tell me earlier?
