“I only like coffee if it’s mostly milk and sugar,” Calisa ventured. “Really, just milk and sugar with a slight flavor of coffee. Better if it’s got vanilla or hazelnut.”
“Swill.” Her eyes swept up and down Calisa, as if cataloging every detail for a scathing critique. “So…you’re the niece.” Turning her attention back to the tea tray, she picked up a saltshaker.
Calisa opened her mouth to tell her that was salt, but shewas too late—Kendra poured a healthy amount of salt into her tea. “Um, yes, I’m Auntie Zee’s grandniece, Calisa.”
Carrying her teacup and saucer, Kendra swept across the room and seated herself in the conch-shaped chair. “Since you’re new, I will be clear: you will not disturb me while I’m at my repose.” She stirred her salted tea elegantly. Calisa had the sense that Kendra did everything elegantly. “I come here for refuge, not to be gawked at, though I appreciate your admiration. I believe it’s essential to have a place where one can rest and recover, do you not agree?”
“Absolutely,” Calisa agreed fervently. That was why she was here, after all. She liked that framing a lot better than how Ethan had reacted—he’d told her she was running away and that if they wanted to fix the problems in their relationship, she had to stay and work through them. She’d told him the “problems” were his lies, manipulation, and rampant assholery, and so no, staying was not going to fix anything, unless he wanted to take himself to the local veterinarian to “fix” himself so he wasn’t tempted to cheat anymore.
That conversation hadn’t gone well.
Kendra sipped her tea. “Ahh, exactly as I remember.”
With salt?Odd, but whatever. “What kind of cake did Auntie Zee used to serve with afternoon tea?” Calisa asked. She was liking the idea of restarting a daily tea. Already one guest was clearly pleased to have the front room available again and tea served.
“Rest and recover,”Kendra repeated. “In peace.”
“Sorry.”
Sinking farther into the chair, Kendra closed her eyes asshe swallowed. Calisa wondered if she should keep cleaning or leave the room. This guest was almost as unfriendly as the inn’s cat.
“Victoria sponge cake,” Kendra said into the silence.
Hmm, that sounded potentially complicated to bake.
“Soft, tender, fluffy.” Kendra licked her lips, as if imagining it. “Cream and raspberry jam sandwiched between the layers of cake. I’d never tasted anything like it back home.”
“Where’s home?” Calisa asked politely.
Kendra’s eyes opened. “One does not ask that question here. Didn’t Auntie Zee tell you that?”
Calisa flinched. Auntie Zeehadsaid not to ask questions, but she’d thought the standard where-are-you-from fell in the realm of acceptable small talk.Guess it’s not just a loose guideline.“Sorry.” She wished she hadn’t asked. Itshouldhave been okay to ask where Kendra was from, but maybe the stately woman was here to escape where she came from and who she was there.Maybe she’s someone famous.A movie star. She did have a dramatic flair to her, a confidence in the way she flowed through the room. Probably Mom-Elise would have recognized her—she loved old movies. “Since we don’t have cake right now, is there something else I can get you?” She had no idea what was in the kitchen, but there must be something to offer guests.
“Just the tea is sufficient.” Kendra rose from her seat. “I will finish it in my room. In peace and solitude.” She swept out of the room, her shoes soundless on the rug, her silent exit pointed.
Calisa winced.That could have gone better.At least she’d seemed to like the tea, despite—or because of?—the salt. Andat least the room was clean. Scanning it for any remaining cobwebs or spots of dust, Calisa noticed the fire had gone out in the fireplace, leaving an unburnt log.
Over on the tea tray, the teapot continued to rattle and brew merrily.
Chapter Seven
Calisa was considering which room to tackle next when auntie zee appeared in the doorway to the sitting room. Scowling, the innkeeper waved at the sheet-free furniture and cobweb-free mantel. “Who told you that you could do this?”
So much for a friendly, approving grunt. “I thought…”
Auntie Zee snorted. “You didn’t think.”
“I didn’t need to think hard,” Calisa said. “It was drowning in dust and cobwebs.”
This time her great-aunt’s snort sounded a little more amused.
Encouraged, Calisa added, “The guests like it.” Or one guest, at least. She didn’t need to know that the guest had retreated to her room out of irritation. “I hoped you’d like it too.” It was, after all, a highly visible part of the Faraway Inn and had been decorated with care, once upon a time.
Crossing her arms, Auntie Zee surveyed the sitting room. For a long moment, she didn’t say a word. She simply scowled at the room as if she could swallow it in her wrinkles. “I can’t maintain this. That’s why I mothballed it in the first place—it’s too much.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Calisa said. “I can help maintain it. If you let me stay.”
Auntie Zee glared at the tea tray as if it had wronged her, then shifted her glare back to Calisa. “I told you already. You can’t stay.”
