Page 17 of The Grump Who Stole Christmas
“So you were just looking for a tree farm and stumbled onto ours?”
“Something like that. Trees are sort of the family business. I wanted to leave the business, not the trees. This was a perfect place to land. Which is why you have me worried. I want to stay long term, plant roots here…”
“Arborist joke?”
He frowned. “Not really. My point is, I didn’t have any expectations about how the inn was doing, but I can tell you having been here the last few months, it’s never been full.”
“Not even in October?” I asked, startled.
The Christmas Jamboree was the biggest event of the year by far, but only slightly less popular was the month-long Octoberfest, which featured an open market downtown. Farmers and craftsmen selling everything from hard apple cider to crocheted blankets to homemade wines. The town was filled with tourists in October, which meant the inn was always full—like it should be now.
“No,” Paul said somberly. “Half full at best.”
I let out a whoosh of breath. The toaster oven dinged, and Paul set about putting my sandwich together.
“Ketchup, please,” I prompted him.
“You’re one of those ketchup on egg people, huh?”
“Card carrying member,” I said, nodding as he put the plate in front of me. The yolk was hard, the cheese was gooey, the bagel was perfectly toasted. I took a healthy bite and groaned as I chewed. I couldn’t remember food tasting this good.
This man had skills.
“So what are you going to do about it?” he asked me.
“What do you mean? I’m going to eat it.” What else would I do with egg and cheese on a bagel?
“I mean about the inn. Don’t you want to see what’s happening? Why rentals are dropping off?”
“Sure. Yes. Absolutely.”
I had to. This was my dad’s retirement. I’d told Ethan I would dig into the books, and I absolutely was going to do that.
There was just this sense of trepidation, and with that came one of my worst traits. I was really competent at denial. Like, amazing at it. It had become a superpower over the past few years.
When my mom got sick, when things started to change at the company after the merger, my dad breaking his leg. If I didn’t look too closely, there weren’t any serious issues. No real problems. If I didn’t acknowledge it, then everyone could just pretend and go on like things weren’t changing. Like everything was going to stay the same.
Forever.
If I didn’t call my dad, he was doing fine. Instead of grieving the loss of my mom hard. When Ethan called to tell me he’d broken his leg, I immediately wanted to pretend it was just a small break and he’d be back on his feet in a few weeks.
Ethan had to pierce the curtain of my denial with specifics about the break. There were two. Talk about how long Dad would be in therapy once it healed. Weeks. How he might need a cane to help him walk. For the foreseeable future.
Details that couldn’t be avoided or ignored.
Things I couldn’t close my eyes to and just pretend…
If I looked at the financials, I was going to find problems. My gut said so and I didn’t want to do it.
“You know what you’re looking for?”
I glanced up at Paul, realizing I’d been lost in my thoughts. He was cleaning the pan he’d used to fry the egg.
I repeated his question in my mind.
“Yes, I know what I’m looking for.”
“Because you’re supposed to be some big-deal business person. I hope Pops didn’t overhype that.”
