Page 56 of Once Upon a Fall

“I did,” Dean says. He picks up the frame, holding it over the mark and checking that it’s centered.

“Well, good. Maybe he’ll feel prompted to remove it.”

“Or you could just ask him,” he says.

I nod. “I could do that. Did you get the maple burger?”

“I got a regular burger.”

“And?”

“It was a burger.”

I laugh. That’s such a Dean answer.

“Rosie?” I hear a woman’s voice call from downstairs.

I find Sadie in my entryway when I get there, holding a box full of little brown paper sacks. Each one has a window in the front and a logo I don’t recognize stamped across it.

“Hi, Sadie,” I say, giving her a little wave. “What do you have there?”

“Maple cookies and maple blondies.” She tips the box toward me. “Some of the things we’ve been making for Carver Maple Farms.”

“We?” I ask. I thought Sadie worked at Keller’s.

“Yes,” she says. “Just a little something I’m doing on the side. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind keeping some in the inn to sell?”

“Oh,” I say, wondering where I would put it all. I don’t have a display case, but maybe I need one? Or some shelving?

“If that doesn’t work, it’s not a problem,” she says before letting out a nervous-sounding breath.

“Of course. No problem,” I tell her. “We’ll put it right here.” I guide her over to the side table where the flyer for the candle-making class still sits and remove it before she sets the box down. I still need to find a place to hang it.

The side table is a good spot for Sadie’s maple goods. I was planning to have some baked goods there during the week of the festival, but I can find another place to put them.

“I was also hoping I could get a booth for the maple farm for the festival?”

“Definitely,” I tell her, setting the candle-making flyer on the check-in desk. “I think we can put you right on Main Street.”

I say this like I know where everything is going, but I have no idea if there will be space on Main Street, and I probably need to figure that out. Stat.

Sadie thanks me and heads out, leaving me alone with the growing list of things I still need to do.

I’ve got less than two weeks before guests arrive, and the rooms have to be done. And somewhere in between all that, I’ve got to make sure a festival runs smoothly.

Dean comes downstairs carrying the drill. “Do you know where the level is?”

Before I can answer, his attention shifts to the side table.

“What’s that?” He points to the baked goods.

“Carver Maple Farms asked me to display some of their baked goods,” I tell him, not loving the way it looks. But I don’t have time to worry about that.

Dean doesn’t say anything.

“It’s a small thing,” I add. “And once the festival starts, this place is going to be full of people who want local products. It makes the whole inn feel more authentic.”

He still doesn’t say anything.