I tell her everything’s running smoothly, business is steady as usual, my new chef is wonderful. The whole time I talk, though, I’m wondering if she’s asking because she and Grant are expecting me to fail at running this place. They loaned me money, so they sort of have an investment in it being successful. But even if the place went under (knock on wood), I’d find another way to pay them back eventually. Being indebted to them isn’t fun.

“It sounds like you’re doing a great job,” Elise says, and I breathe a sigh of relief, even though I have no idea if she really means that. “You’ve taken on so much, gaining ownership. I imagine the place keeps you constantly busy.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot,” I admit. “But I love my job, and I’m good at it.” Hopefully that doesn’t sound too defensive.

“I know you are, dear.”

Was that patronizing?

I take off my glasses for something to fidget with while I wait for whatever she’s going to say next. It feels like there’s a but coming.

“But I hope you still have enough time for May.”

There it is.

“Of course I do.” With one finger, I spin my glasses in half-circles on top of my desk. Maybe this is why I’ve scratched so many pairs over the years, but this conversation is filling me with a jittery, frantic energy. “She comes first. Always.”

Elise hums in what sounds like agreement. But then—“You do a good job for a single parent. I only wish sometimes that May could have more than one parental figure in her life. She deserves that.”

I accidentally fling my glasses off the desk, and they slide along the floor until they hit the wall. “I—I know,” I manage to croak through my sudden panic. “She deserves everything.”

And her grandparents don’t think I can give her everything. They don’t think I’m enough. This wasn’t a call to check if I was failing at running the inn. It was to check if I was failing as a parent.

“It’s just, with losing her mom...” Elise trails off sadly. “I only wish...”

“I’m seeing someone!” I blurt out, my mouth moving faster than my brain. “It’s pretty serious. We practically live together.”

Holy hell, stop talking.

Elise lets out a delighted, “Oh!” and I cringe. “That’s wonderful! I can’t wait to meet him.”

“I’m sure you will next time you visit.”

Or not. Because either she’ll have forgotten I mentioned a boyfriend by whenever it is that she and Grant deign to come here, or we’ll have conveniently just broken up. What a shame.