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“No. And I don’t mean that to be rude.” He paused, then added, “You came out here yourself, you know what you actually need, and you’re not asking me to rebuild the place overnight. I respect that. But I’m still not going back.”

I could push a reluctant vendor. I could negotiate with a contractor over price, scope, schedule, and staffing. Duncan’s refusal was different because he was not bargaining with me.

Before I could decide whether I had anything useful left to say, a girl called from inside the house.

“Dad, Mary-Kate’s mom texted you about tomorrow.”

Duncan turned toward the hallway. “I saw it. I told Lori you can go to the costume tent with them after school.”

A girl appeared behind him with long straight dark hair and a Fall Fest flyer folded in one hand. She looked about ten and stopped when she noticed me.

Duncan shifted slightly. “Sienna, this is Goldie. She’s working on Fall Fest.”

“Hi.” She took in my curls, then turned back to her father. “Mary-Kate says the makeup table is for ten and up. Her mom is staying the whole time, and the website says they’re doing face gems, hair color, and beginner costume makeup. I sent you the link.”

Duncan’s expression changed in the subtle way it had the moment she appeared. The hard refusal he had given me was gone, replaced by patient concentration.

“I saw the link. I’m not stopping you from going to the costume tent, and I’m not saying you can’t do anything there. I want to know what products they’re using before you put something around your eyes or all through your hair. That is not the same thing as saying no.”

Sienna folded the flyer against her chest. “Usually when you say you want to look into something, you end up deciding I’m too young.”

He was quiet for a moment instead of dismissing her.

“That’s fair. I’ve probably done that more than I realized.” He nodded toward the flyer. “Bring me your tablet after dinner. We’ll look at everything together. If it’s meant for kids your age and Lori is there with you, then we can make a decision based on what they’re actually offering instead of what I think they might be offering.”

Sienna relaxed immediately, although apparently not enough to abandon the rest of her agenda.

“I want curls for my costume too.”

Duncan rubbed a hand over his beard. “I know, and I have no idea how to do them.”

The resignation in his voice nearly made me laugh.

Sienna glanced at my hair again. “Yours are really pretty.”

“Thank you. Mine came with the head, so I can’t take much credit.”

Her smile widened.

“There are ways to curl straight hair without using a hot iron,” I added, because Duncan looked like a man who had spent considerably more time understanding power tools than foam rollers. “Foam rollers would probably be easiest for her hair, especially if she wants the curls to last through an afternoon outside.”

Duncan turned to me. “You know about that?”

“I plan events. Costumes, performers, hair, makeup, wardrobe emergencies, and people discovering five minutes before curtain that they have no idea how to use the thing they bought are all occupational hazards.”

I added, keeping my tone matter-of-fact, “But obviously, what Sienna does is your decision.”

Something in his expression eased.

Sienna finally noticed the plate in my hands. “Are those pumpkin muffins?”

“Pumpkin-pecan with cranberries.”

Duncan glanced at his daughter, whose immediate interest was impossible to miss.

“Goldie brought them for us,” he told her, before adding, “Assuming that was the idea.”

“It was.”