That sounded like an excellent idea. “All right, it’s a date,” she said, and instantly hated that she’d said those words. She felt her cheeks blush. “Not literally. Just an expression.”
He didn’t seem to notice that she was blushing. He was gazing off into the distance, toward the sky above the pine trees. “My dad told me that the inn used to have tea every day, with little sandwiches and cakes. All I remember are the cakes. I don’t think I liked tea as a kid.”
“Do you like it now?” The question felt ridiculous as she asked it, but she found herself wanting to know the answer.
“Sure. I mean, I don’t know. The teapot has been broken for years, or I thought it was.”
She stared at him for a moment. He did know there were other ways to make tea than a battery-powered teapot, didn’t he? He could have just boiled some water on the stove or stuck a mug in the microwave. “We should restart afternoon tea, once I’ve got the front room clean.”
He brightened. “Do you know how to bake a cake?”
“Not without a recipe,” Calisa said, “but with one, yes. I didn’t pack a cookbook.” She’d made a birthday cake for Crystal just last month, and it had turned out pretty good. Lopsided but delicious. Chocolate with raspberry jam. She’d even made her own buttercream icing. “Does Auntie Zee like cake?”
“Ilike cake.”
“How come you’ve never tried to bake your own?”
Now it was his turn to blush. His ears pinkened. “Um, well…Truth? Auntie Zee doesn’t let me cook. One of her rules.”
“Why not?” Because he was a guy? She knew Auntie Zee was grumpy, but she hadn’t thought that meant she was sexist. Scowling, Calisa wondered if she shouldn’t have volunteered to cook and clean. She hadn’t meant to relegate herself to a traditional gender role. It was just that the inn needed to be cleaned and the guests needed breakfast, and she knew how to do both, thanks to her moms’ love of assigning chores. It had been her choice, not a default assumption. In fact, Auntie Zee had given her no guidance whatsoever.
Jack ducked back so she couldn’t see his full face over the lip of the roof. “I kind of almost burned the inn down about a year ago when I was trying to scramble eggs.”
She bit back a laugh. He didn’t deserve to be laughed at. It wasn’t funny. “How…?” Okay, no, it was legitimately funny. “Scrambling eggs? That’s not even…What did you do?”
“Well, there was a bee inside the kitchen, and I kind of, well, overreacted. I was trying to get it out, and I was using a towel to, you know, scare it away—and I smacked the stove and knocked the skillet with the eggs onto the floor.”
She still didn’t see how that could almost cause a fire.
“I cleaned up, but I forgot to turn off the stove.”
“You’re blaming a bee because you forgot to turn off the stove?” Calisa said. That really didn’t sound like it was the fault of the bee.
“It would have been fine, except I’d also opened the window.You know, so the bee would fly out? And then, well, leaves blew in. It was fall. Really windy. Really dry leaves. Like, kindling-dry. Anyway, the leaves landed on the stove, a few caught fire, and they blew around the kitchen…. So, long story short, Auntie Zee won’t let me cook anymore.”
Calisa burst out laughing. She tried to stop—it wasn’t nice of her—but the image of Jack fluttering around the kitchen with the bee and the fiery leaves…She hiccuped as she swallowed her laugh. As soon as she could breathe again, she said in a voice that only quivered a little, “So, is that why you don’t make pancakes either? Or tea on the stove?”
“Yep. I was kind of hoping to avoid telling you that story, so you don’t think I’m an idiot.” His voice drifted down.
“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” Calisa said. A little ridiculous. Adorable, even. But not an idiot. And she was relieved the cause of his ban wasn’t rampant sexism. That made her feel better about her own choice of tasks at the inn. “It could happen to anyone.”
“Yes! That’s what I told Auntie Zee.”
She imagined that Auntie Zee had scowled hard enough to curdle milk. There had probably been yelling, or at least a very disapproving grunt. “I do, though, think it’s not entirely the bee’s fault.”
“I’ll apologize the next time I see one,” he said solemnly. He leaned forward again, far enough that she could see his face. His cheeks and neck were still pinkish from blushing so hard.
“Good. When I get a chance, I’ll look for a cookbook that has a cake recipe.” She wished she had internet access here, but whatever. Worst case she could call her moms and havethem look it up. Mom-Kate liked store-bought cheesecake, and Mom-Elise always picked chocolate cake from the Little Cupcake Bake Shop on Vanderbilt for her birthday, but they could google a few recipes for her.
Calisa headed back inside. Auntie Zee and the new guest were nowhere to be seen, though she thought she heard voices drifting down the stairs. She dumped the sheets into the laundry machine and found the detergent where Jack had said it would be.
By the time she returned to the sitting room, Kendra was standing by the tea tray with a fresh cup of tea in her hands. “Oh! Hi!” Calisa said.
“If you had any training in innkeeping whatsoever, you would have offered me tea the instant I arrived.” Her voice was low and soft, as melodic as a wave, if that wave were irritated and vaguely British. “But I’m told you’re new and allowances must be made.”
Jack had said to offer her tea, but Calisa hadn’t had a chance.
“At least you’ve brewed a respectable beverage,” Kendra said. “You people and your coffee. Sewage swill.Iwon’t stomach it.” She picked up the sugar, inspected it, then set it down.
