She could do that. She could make an amends, and pray, ask for help, and take it a day at a time.
When she got back to the inn, Noelle found Hannah trying to teach Cass’s byzantine paper registration system to Miriam. It amounted to them never having kept records of anything.
“There wasn’t a set rate,” Hannah was explaining. “Cass charged you based on her own calculations of how much she liked you, and how much she thought you could afford. She definitely hosed some people and gave other people their rooms for a song.”
“You do realize that all these people are about to show up here, expecting to pay whatever they’ve always paid, and you’re not even going to know what to charge them, right?” Miriam’s voice rose in pitch as she spoke. “We need a filing system. We need an account book!”
She was cute when she got her serious business face on, and even cuter when annoyed. Miriam’s intensity about their financial structure (or lack thereof) surprised Noelle. She herself hadn’t cared how Cass charged people, as long as they paid something and she, in turn, was paid. She knew a hell of a lot about growing trees, but almost nothing about bookkeeping. Miriam’s obvious knowledge about the subject took Noelle aback. She knew now Miriam ran her own business but hadn’t really thought about the financial logistics it would include, just the art-making and social media pieces. She kept underestimating this woman and being proven wrong.
“Okay breathe,” Hannah said, putting her hands on Miriam’s crossed arms. “I’m still the manager of inn operations, I have a whole degree in hospitality management, and I will figure this out.”
Noelle smiled a little at her best friend, who was extremely territorial, no matter how much she wanted Miriam here. “Miriam, let Hannah do her job. She’s good at it, I promise. Scary good, really,” she said, laying a hand on Hannah’s shoulder.
“Of course you’re taking her side!” Miriam said.
At the same time, Hannah said, “Stay out of this, NoNo, I’m handling it!”
Noelle raised both hands and stepped back.
“Sorry,” Miriam said sarcastically, “my fault for trying to help at all, I forgot that Queen Hannah never needs any assistance. I saw visions of an IRS audit dancing in my head. I’ll let you deal with this clusterfuck.” Miriam stomped out of the room.
Noelle watched her go, annoyed by her impulse to soothe Miriam’s bruised feelings. She turned back to Hannah.
“What the hell was that? I thought you two were ecstatic to be reunited?”
“Oh, you know,” Hannah said with the sort of loving nostalgic exasperation reserved for family you loved even when you didn’t like them, “leftover hurt feelings, old buttons getting pushed. Miriam and I have been butting heads since we were born. She thinks I’m controlling, and I never let anyone else be in charge.”
Noelle secretly thought Miriam was kind of right.
“I’m grateful to Cass for bringing us back together, but why did it have to be to clean up this gigantic mess she made?” Hannah chewed on the end of her braid, a sure sign she was processing something. Noelle waited for her to finish. “There’s no money, there’s no paper trail, there’s no system for contacting past guests! There are sticky notes that predate the invention of the sticky note!”
“I miss her, too,” Noelle said, and Hannah put her head on Noelle’s shoulder.
“Miriam’s right. This is a clusterfuck. I don’t know if even my supernatural powers of organization can save this farm.” Hannah blew out a breath.
“You can’t, alone,” Noelle reminded her. “But you don’t have to. We’re a team.”
Chapter 8
Miriam
The decision about whether to stay at Carrigan’s should have been an easy one. No matter how much Miriam had loved it as a child, Carrigan’s was her past. She had a beautiful, ambitious woman at home waiting to build a life with her, and a store she’d dreamt into being. Maybe she and Tara would never be in love, but they were an ironclad team.
Here, she had an unwanted attraction to a woman who didn’t like her and a mountain of emotional baggage to unpack. True, she had her family back, and a big, fascinating project she was collaborating on with her favorite cousin. Now that she had envisioned Carrigan’s All Year, she wanted to see what it could become, in person. She wanted to be a part of building it.
The real problem was, whenever she thought about going home, something wild and insistent inside of her whispered she was already there.
She’d been putting off calling Tara, because every time she decided she knew what she was going to do—for sure, definitely this time—she changed her mind as soon as she picked up the phone. Cole had told her to follow her heart, but Cole loved change and was adept at making himself large. Miriam had spent all her life trying to keep things from changing, trying to make herself so small as to be invisible. She’d invented an entire social media persona she could hide behind, so no one would ever see who she really was! Including herself. She had stopped listening to her heart, because she’d been burned so badly whenever she’d tried.
Now that her heart was yelling loudly at her, without her permission, she didn’t know how to set herself free. It felt reckless and unsound. Since Hannah, the Matthewses, and Noelle had all made their opinions known and she still wasn’t closer to a decision, she went to visit the reindeer.
There had always been reindeer at Carrigan’s because Cass preferred them to people. Miriam had been afraid they might have been sold, their upkeep too expensive as the farm tried to stay afloat. She should have known Cass would never allow it.
“Hello, my sweet friends,” she cooed, pulling apples out of her coat pocket. “It’s so lovely to see your fuzzy, fuzzy faces. Yes, it is. No, sir, you can keep your teeth to yourself. Now, no one around here has anything for me to do, but I suspect you are in need of skritchy-skritches behind the ears, aren’t you? Aren’t you, you beauties?” She snapped a quick selfie with them for the Bloomers.
She heard a throat clear behind her, and turned around to find Mr. Matthews, his hands stuffed in his pockets, and Noelle, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face.
“The reindeer were lonely,” Miriam said defensively, her heart in her throat. If her dad had caught her being sweet with an animal, she would have had to worry forever that he would use it as emotional leverage against her. But this wasn’t her dad. The reindeer were safe.