Inn Trouble

by Dixie Davis

  “Is it the food?” Howard asked. “Because that brownie makes me want to move.” He laughed, hard.

  Vera sighed, shaking her head. “We’re never going to move, and we’re never going to retire. You love Charleston and the Brookes House too much.”

  “So do you.” Howard slid an arm around her shoulders, and Vera rested her head against his chest.

  For the first time all day, Lori let the peace of the landscape in front of her seep into her heart. Howard and Vera were just fine. Every couple bickered. Perhaps she’d just forgotten how hard it was to live with someone after fifteen years of widowhood. It wasn’t like she and her fiancé had gotten along every second.

  No. Far from it.

  Lori shoved that thought into the back of her mind where it belonged and headed into the still-depressing parlor. Mitch would be by early next week to excavate the wall coverings.

  Howard and Vera joined her. “What’s for breakfast?” Howard asked. “Do you serve it in here?”

  “No, we have a dining room.” But for the menu, she could only offer a mysterious smile.

  They were in for a surprise.

  Maybe it wasn’t smart to get up this early on their first day of InnCon. But it was all worth it when Lori saw the surprised and satisfied looks on Howard’s and Vera’s faces at their first bites of the treat her younger son Adam had brought home from his European adventure over the summer: Liège-style waffles.

  The yeast-risen waffles required more work than regular baking powder waffles, but the contrast of the creamy texture with the crisp exterior was worth it. The real surprise wasn’t the amazing taste and tactile experience, though: it was the sweet nuggets of sugar laced through the buttery dough, giving a sweet crunch to the whole thing that made it irresistible.

  And Howard had objected to the lack of syrup at her waffle bar. Lori held back a satisfied smile. He’d been happy to load up his second waffle with chocolate chips, Nutella and speculoos, a spiced “cookie butter” spread Adam had brought home.

  Vera thoroughly enjoyed her first waffle with lemon curd and whipped cream, but before she went back for seconds, she turned to Lori. “I hope you don’t go through all this for every breakfast! You’ll wear yourself out.”

  “These are special for you,” Lori reassured her. “But when I do make them, I cook a big batch and freeze them.” More times than she could count in that summer alone, the trick had saved her bacon.

  Hm . . . could she freeze bacon?

  Maybe, but reheating it couldn’t be faster than a trick she’d learned from the old owner, Beth Owens — microwaving bacon! Got it wonderfully crisp, though it did mean she had to be careful with her reserve of bacon grease, since she got very little from the plate once the paper towels had done their job.

  “Tell me you’re not ironing your linens,” Vera said. “I mean, they look wonderful —”

  “Linen water.” Lori tried not to smile. She wasn’t used to being babied, but it was nice for a change to have someone who was concerned about her, instead of Lori having to play host all the time.

  “How long before your linens are due for a change?” Howard asked as he joined them at the table again. “We never seem to get more than three years out of ours. Excited to see some samples today.”

  “I should be good for another year on everything but washcloths.”

  Howard and Vera groaned in unison. “Mascara?” Vera guessed.

  “Of course!”

  Howard rolled his eyes. “Peggy says we need to either put out makeup remover wipes or get black washcloths.”

  That was a good tip. Lori found herself wishing she were taking notes as she had been the first time she met Howard and Vera. She’d been so overwhelmed at her first InnCon, she wasn’t even sure where to start this time around. “So you’re looking at linen samples?” Lori asked.

  “Yep.” Howard pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket and unfolded it on the table. He pointed at it. “I’m planning on going to the food and room photography classes. You should update your website with photos of your new rooms.”

  “I was waiting until I redid the parlor.” Lori gestured toward the wide doorway that led from the dining room where they were to the main sitting area. “But I do need to update my website, and I need an online booking service.”

  Howard and Vera exchanged a tense look. “We like Reservation Key, but there are a few good services. Have to be very careful.”

  Lori nodded. Why didn’t she have a notebook with her now?

  Vera pulled Howard’s paper over to her. “I’m partial to the baking and cooking classes.” She turned to Lori. “I’m a bit of a cookbook collector.”

  “You’ll have to see my shelves before we go.” It had taken all summer to get her cookbooks unpacked finally, and of course, Beth Owens had taken a few choice volumes since they were hers but she’d left plenty. Now Lori had an entire bookcase devoted to them.

  “And marketing, marketing, marketing,” Howard finished, pushing the paper toward Lori. She glanced at it: a schedule of InnCon Carolinas classes today.

  Between the three of them, they could easily attend every class the conference offered, but not all of the classes applied to them, and that wouldn’t leave much time for perusing the vendor hall.

  “I think they’ll have some electronic key vendors,” Howard said. “Definitely want to see those puppies.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to do key cards,” Vera said.

  “I don’t. These are the numeric keypads.” He added a smile at the end, but it only highlighted the fact that his patience was wearing thin in his voice.

  “And I don’t want to have to clean numeric keypads. We’ve discussed this.”

  “Do you like replacing lost keys and changing locks?”

  Vera folded her arms. “Don’t take that tone with me. I’m not going through another Towelgate with you.”

  Howard threw up his hands, letting them fall to the table with a dramatic slap. “There you go, bringing up the towel incident. It’s been fifteen years, Vera. Let it go.”

  “I was right then, and I’m right now. You never listen to me!”

  “I wish I weren’t listening to you right now,” he muttered before stuffing his mouth with another bite of waffle.

  “Would you like another waffle, Vera?” Lori hopped up before she even responded.

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  Lori took Vera’s plate and her own into the kitchen, giving herself a moment to think.

  Most of the time, Howard and Vera were the wonderful people she thought she’d met last year. But seeing them up close again, not teaching, not while one or the other of them was dispensing advice over the phone or in an email, the little cracks in their relationship were beginning to show.

  Cracks that Lori didn’t want to see. It was almost like watching her parents bicker, except her parents didn’t treat one another that way. Still, it made Lori feel . . . not just awkward, but like one of the foundation stones of her life was crumbling.

  All right, that seemed a bit strong, but still, it was getting to her.

  Howard charged into the kitchen just as she finished wiping her and Vera’s plates. “I’ll handle this: you can go and get ready.”

  Lori looked down at her black slacks and blouse. Was something wrong with this? She was going for professional.

  Maybe she needed more makeup. Or some clue what to do with her blonde/silver hair.

  Lori headed upstairs to sweep on more eye shadow and blush and pull some of her hair back in a barrette. She checked her reflection. Nope. With her round face and limp hair, she still looked like a little girl pretending to be a business owner.

  Not a promising start to the day.

  Lori collected herself and headed back downstairs where Howard and Vera waited. “What time does your guest get in tonight?”

  “Not until eight, and the room’s ready.”

  “Wonderful!” Howard clapped. Everything about him, it seem
ed, involved movement and energy. It was better than an espresso shot, just what Lori needed today.

  Lori drove so she could point out a few of the local sites she’d managed to visit, researching so she could recommend places to her customers. She managed not to bring up local gossip . . . much. She couldn’t help but mention how much Heidi of Heidi’s Heirlooms disliked her.

  Howard and Vera agreed that Heidi must have very poor taste to hate Lori. She had to admit, though, Heidi had at least been civil once it became obvious her sister Beth wouldn’t leave town just because Lori bought her B&B.

  Much of the drive only featured the landscape, however, which Howard filled by reading off the profiles of all the vendors from his phone. Beds, linens, credit card processing, ceramics, software, marketing and more were waiting for them. Lori’s head swam a bit just contemplating all the choices they were sure to find.

  “Lori,” Vera began once her husband finished, “do you know of any good bakeries in Wilmington? Real French bakeries, I mean. I want to pick something up tonight to try for breakfast. If you have a deep fryer.”

  “Of course I have a deep fryer.” Lori almost laughed. “If I’m going to heat it up, we should probably make donuts.”

  “I vote for that!” Howard proclaimed from the back seat. “I’ll see if I can find a place. I’m sure there’s at least one in a city this size.”

  Lori looked out at the city as they rolled across the bridge over the Cape Fear. As cities went, Wilmington wasn’t huge, but with over a hundred thousand people, it was thirty times the size of Dusky Cove. If there was a “real French bakery” within fifty miles, it was probably here.

  The Convention center wasn’t far from the bridge, and they managed to find parking fairly quickly. The bright, airy space of the Convention center and the cheery Welcome to InnCon Carolinas 2010 banner only added to Lori’s excitement.

  Last year, she’d gone out to Myrtle Beach for InnCon Carolinas, a novice there to learn everything from the Bughs. This year, she was here as a real innkeeper with a busy tourist season under her belt. Obviously she didn’t have the experience and expertise of someone like Howard and Vera, but a year ago, she couldn’t have dreamed of how much she would have learned by now — or that she’d even be an innkeeper yet.

  And here she was, feeling pretty successful, too. It had been quite the year to say the least.

  After an inspiring keynote and a breakout session on marketing — Howard went to the food and room photography class and Vera to the pastry demonstration — the third hour didn’t have any classes that piqued Lori’s interest. Vera went to the class on online travel agencies, leaving Howard and Lori to wander the vendor hall.

  The open space was full of people and tables, all competing for attention. Lori could see why Vera might find this overwhelming, but for her it was as invigorating as Howard’s own energy.

  Howard made a beeline for a linens booth, leaving Lori to peruse another aisle. She finally found an online booking service and approached the man at the table with the Bed And Bookingz Online Booking Service banner. “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi there,” the man said, hopping to his feet. His narrow face and thin body made him seem taller than he really was. He paused in smacking his gum to flash a smile at her. “Are you looking to get more bookings with less effort?”

  Lori cut to the chase. “Yes, I’m looking for an online booking service, actually.” She pointed at his banner.

  “Perfect! I’m Tom.” He grabbed the nearest brochure and almost flung it at her, he was so excited to have a potential customer. “We have the best rates in the industry, and we handle all the payment processing for you.”

  “That’s nice, but we already have credit card processing.”

  “But you could eliminate it with this.” Tom chomped on his gum. “We get better rates than most small businesses. Economies of scale.”

  Lori tried not to sigh. Economies of scale was usually an enemy to an inn with only five rooms. She might shop at Costco when it warranted the forty-five–minute drive, but to get a real discount on most supplies, she would have to order an amount that was simply ridiculous for her little inn.

  Suddenly, Howard stepped up to her side. “Thought I’d lost —” He focused on Tom and abruptly broke off. “What are you doing here?”

  Tom was even more surprised than Howard and definitely not in a good way. Panic flared in his eyes. “Mr. Bugh, please —”

  Howard wrapped an arm around Lori’s shoulders and tugged her away from the table. “That’s one service you definitely shouldn’t use.” He cast one more glare back at Tom, who was definitely close enough to hear. “No one should.”

  “What happened?”

  “I’ll tell you later.” Howard glanced around at the other innkeepers, who were mostly ignoring Tom. “Not something I want to talk about in public. Yet.”

  Lori raised both her eyebrows at his cryptic remark, but Howard just shook his head. “There are two other services over here, I think — both good ones.”

  She let him lead her from table to table, but snuck in a glance back at Tom. She caught his eye, but Tom looked away instantly.

  What on earth was this about?

  Before Lori could ask, Howard led her past a table that held a full rainbow of beautifully glazed pottery: literally, a rainbow of mugs and vases of fourteen shades arranged in order across the front of the table. Lori broke away from Howard to take a closer look at the booth labeled Carolina Clayworks.

  The bright colors weren’t the only things unique about the pottery on display. Most of the pieces started one color at the top and transitioned through drips and gradients into another at the bottom. The styles were everything from utilitarian to rugged to graceful. Lori found herself drawn to one mug in particular, decorated with flowing ridges that reminded her of the Cape Fear River. The top edge had been dipped in a turquoise glaze that dripped down into the slate blue at the bottom.

  “See anything you like?” the vendor asked.

  Lori looked up at the man behind the table and nearly jumped away. His unkempt beard touched his chest, and heavy, black tattoos adorned his forearms. Surely he hadn’t created these delicate teacups? “Are — I mean, do you work here?”

  He grinned. “I’m the potter.” He stood and offered a rough hand. “Karl.”

  Lori forced herself to smile and accept his hand. “Lori.”

  “Did you see something that you like?” His smile shifted into something so broad it seemed self-deprecating. “Aside from yours truly.”

  She couldn’t help a laugh. Despite the gleam on his bald — shaved — head, Karl had to be at least twenty years younger than her. She pointed out the blue cup with the flowing ridges. “I do like this one.”

  “That’s a personal favorite, too.”

  A loud sigh came from Lori’s left and she looked over — Howard. “How many times am I going to have to rescue you today?”

  She raised an eyebrow. Sure, Karl looked rough on the outside, but he actually seemed kind of nice now that she was talking to him.

  “Hi, Howard.” Karl pressed his lips together, like he expected this kind of display from the man in front of him.

  “Karl.” Howard nodded and turned to Lori. “Whatever you do, don’t buy a matching set and expect to keep them that way.”

  “You realize that was an accident.”

  Howard groaned. “Are we really going to bring this up?”

  “You brought it up.”

  “You broke your word.” Howard jabbed a finger onto the table and the nearest mug quaked in response.

  Karl steadied the mug. “You know that supplier going out of business was beyond my control.”

  Lori couldn’t imagine being that calm while someone yelled at her. She glanced around. A few people were turning to watch them. “Howard,” Lori said maybe a little too loudly, “don’t we need to find you some sheets?”

  Howard nodded, but fixed a glare on Karl until they were fully past his
table.

  This was not what she was expecting from InnCon, but Lori helped Howard examine sheets and towels at a couple booths. They winnowed his choices down to the top four for Vera’s final approval, which was apparently required after Towelgate.

  Lori glanced back at the tables where Howard had “saved” her. How bad were “Tomgate” and “Karlgate” that he’d nearly made a scene?

  Howard collected business cards from the top linen contenders and filed them into a silver business card case. After the third time he pulled it out, Howard caught Lori staring at it and handed it over.

  “Gift from Vera.” The case’s opening was shaped like an envelope flap. On the back of the case, where the address would go on an envelope, their logo was engraved, the silhouette of their house flanked by palmettos.

  “It’s very nice.” Lori gave it back. “She must love you very much.”

  “She must, to put up with me.” Something in his tone actually sounded . . . sad. Sad that his wife cared about him?

  Lori was used to people from all walks of life spilling all their troubles to her. She seldom had to pry or prompt. But right now, with this friend and mentor, she actually didn’t know what to say, leaving her floundering in a way that was totally unfamiliar to her.

  They met up with Vera outside her classroom and filed into the ballroom to collect their boxed lunches.

  As soon as Howard and Vera collected their boxes, a laugh rang out from behind Lori. Or more of a cackle, really, if men could cackle.

  “Howard Bugh, you old dog. What are you doing here this year? Didn’t they tell you it’s my year to run the show?”

  Howard’s shoulders fell before he even turned around. “Hello, Clint,” he said. “What a surprise, running into you at a convention for people who work in our industry and live in our state.”

  Lori figured it wasn’t a good time to mention that InnCon Carolinas was for two states.

  “How many bookings are you losing by being here?” Clint’s laugh lurked just under the surface of his words.

  Vera stepped in to give the other man an icy stare. “If you have to ask, then probably not as many as you are.”