Page 35 of Once Upon a Fall

I nod. That’s another complicated story.

I do own a farm. That’s true. But I also have no idea what I’m going to do with it. And without my grandparents there, it doesn’t feel like a home.

“I guess you had a farm,” she says. “The raccoons own it now.”

I chuckle, and she smiles. “That’s true.”

“Maybe you could make your home with them? Create some boundaries with the raccoons? Learn to live together peacefully?”

“I don’t think raccoons are capable of that,” I say.

“You’re probably right,” she says, looking down at her hands folded in her lap before looking back up at me. “Where do you plan to go tomorrow, now that your week is up?”

“Tomorrow?”

I do the math and realize she’s right. It’s Monday, which means tomorrow it will be a week. I hadn’t even been counting, which isn’t like me. I always count.

Except . . . I didn’t. Somehow this week got away from me, and I didn’t even notice.

I should tell her I’ll figure it out. It’s the easiest answer, and it’s the truth. I’m sure I can find a room in Burlington at this point. Driving back and forth would be a pain, but I could manage it.

But . . . that’s not what comes out of my mouth.

“I was going to ask if I could stay,” I hear myself say. “For the month, like I booked originally. I can’t do much on the farm until the raccoons are out, but I’d rather not do the drive from Burlington every day if I don’t have to.”

This is the truth, of course. But it’s not the whole of it, and I know it. I like it here. The thought of leaving isn’t something I want to do. Which is . . . odd, and I’m not sure I want to think too hard about it.

“Really?” Rosie asks, her face lighting up. “Yes. Of course you can absolutely—”

“Rosie,” I say, cutting her off. “Don’t say yes unless you really mean it.”

I know she can say no to a picture, but when it comes to someone else and their needs, she doesn’t. At least not from what I’ve seen. I don’t want this to be an obligatory yes from her.

“I do mean it, though.”

I shake my head. “You didn’t even think about it.”

“I didn’t need to,” she says. “Of course you can stay. You’ve been so helpful. You cook and you helped me with the—” She stops. “That came out wrong. I don’t mean you have to keep doing those things. You could never lift a finger again and I’d—” She presses her lips together. “I’d like you to stay. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

“Do you need to check your calendar and make sure you have the availability?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “It’s free and clear until October.”

“Oh, but wait.” She rubs her forehead with her hand. “I opened up the calendar after you left, just in case, and I did have someone book one night on the twelfth. So, that’s a problem.” She nibbles her lip, looking to the side. “But wait . . . the Cinderella room is nearly done, so they can go there. Problem solved. The room is yours.”

Hearing Rosie’s thoughts in real time is a fascinating thing. I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone who thinks out loud as much as she does.

“Alright,” I say. “Then I’ll stay.”

Rosie

The castle sprang a leak. The princess had not budgeted for leaks.

Everything is a disaster.

My second-ever guests are arriving in five hours, and this morning, I found a leak in the bathroom of the Cinderella room.

A leak. In the freaking just-finished bathroom.