Page 76 of Pick Yourself Up
With a tiny head shake, she yanked her imagination back to work. Themes for the rooms. She needed to put her imagination to work, naming and decorating the spaces, not picturing babies.
Apple Blossom. Soft pink and white accents. Photos would be easy to come by. In season, she could add sprigs of branches full of blossoms.
Harvest Gold. The leaves around them were the perfect shade and the room would be gorgeous. She’d love to add photographs of people harvesting the apples. They’d been working too hard for her to think about it, but she could easily set up some photos now of her family doing the chore. There were still plenty of apple trees laden with fruit, and the photos would add a personal touch. She could also use at least one of the paintings she’d seen at Phail Central. Maybe even hire Josie Ellis to paint a few of their orchard for the main floor. That sent a thrill of joy down her spine.
How did people harvest apples in the past? Could some of those tools be used as wall decor? She added that to her list.
Another room would be Apple Pie. That would be fun. She could use old pie plates and rolling pins as decor. Photos of baking, predominantly black and white ones from days gone by. Cinnamon sticks in mason jars to add to the experience. She might add those to all the rooms. Tied with ribbons to match the room’s theme. She added ordering ribbons to her list.
Jolie wanted to have a room themed around the pond. Maybe Quackers? Just Duckie? Photos here would be fun. They could include some of Hemsworth rounding up the ducks. Quack Mobile and Duckington Palace. Actually, she could use that for the room’s name. Who wouldn’t want to stay in Duckington Palace? And she could have fun with some touches echoing castles and royalty. Maybe she could find tiny tiaras to order for the ducks. That would be a fun photo shoot.
What about a Machine Shop? Was that an appropriate name for a room or would it turn people off? Maybe it would attract more men and couples. She didn’t want a frilly space, only appropriate for elderly women with lace handkerchiefs. She wanted the inn to be comfortable and fun for everyone. Friendly.
She could have photos of the machines used on the farm over the years. Some miniature replicas would be great.
What other options? Cider. Inn Cider. Inn Cider Inn. She kept coming back to that for the overall name of the inn, although the theme worked better for a room. More cinnamon. Photos and old equipment like wooden cider presses.
She needed a name that worked for the inn itself. Something with a nod to the entire farm, not just a piece they didn’t have yet.
The name needed to be memorable in a good way, like how the town of Phail created its unique names. They were close enough to town that she could borrow the name. She knew Piper and Troy would love it. Piper had given her a whole list of potential names.
She’d check with the others at supper tonight to see what they thought. The Inn would be on their property and they all should have input.
Boomer lifted his head and turned to the door, woofing softly. From this distance, she couldn’t hear the beeps of the security system arming or disarming, but he did. His body language and perked up ears told her it was Gray coming in.
Sure enough, Gray called through the house. “It’s me.” He never wanted her to worry, so he either texted before he came in or called out.
He was the best.
He wore moccasins as he entered the bedroom. They left their dirty boots at the door. For now, they each had another pair of moccasins made by Nimii, the artisan who lived in Phail. She couldn’t wait to have the ones she’d commissioned for the inn. It would be a homey touch she hoped would make their inn stand out—and good business for her talented new friend in town.
Gray greeted Boomer with a pat and a rubdown, and then he sat beside Amber on the bed. He wrapped one arm around her and leaned in for a kiss. “Missed you.”
It had only been a couple of hours, but she grinned because it was true. “Missed you, too.”
“What are you working on?”
“Names for the inn and the rooms.”
He smiled. “You’re saying Inn more than B&B now, so that means you’re using Inn in the name?”
Her eyes widened. “I hadn’t realized I’d changed. Yes, you’re right. I’m leaning that way.”
“Amber’s Inn?”
“Absolutely not. I don’t want my name in it.”
He chuckled and leaned over to check out her notebook. She flipped it to where she’d been playing with the names for the rooms and ideas for decor and items to search for. “This is awesome. I love the idea of using old equipment as decorations. Why don’t we call out to someone at Midnight Lake and see if they mind if we take them up on their offer to search their basement and sawmill for things you can use to decorate?”
“I don’t want to bother them.”
“They offered. They wouldn’t have done that if they hadn’t meant it.”
He lifted his phone and waited. When she nodded, he dialed.
“Hey Sam. It’s Gray Santoro from the apple farm.”
He was so easy with people. Amber had always been able to do it for her job. That was easier, as she was familiar with the other person’s expectations and hopes. Calling people who weren’t family had always been more challenging for her.
