I am stripping sheets and remaking beds on the second floor when I hear my new employee, Esme, scream. I sprint out of the Go Rock Hunting room, Sonny following and barking his head off, and round the corner into the Boat Rides Are a Shore Thing room, where I see Scooter with a sheet draped over him, his head sticking out, a sheepish look on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” he is saying over and over to Esme. “I thought you were Adie Lou.”

He turns when he sees me and flails his arms, the sheet flapping, making him look very much like a ghost.

“It was a joke. I wanted to surprise you.”

“Surprise or scare?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “Are you okay, Esme?”

“Sí, Adie Lou,” she says, before looking at Scooter and wagging a finger. “Dia de los Muertos is already over.”

“Lo siento mucho,” Scooter apologizes, pulling the sheet off his body. “Lo siento mucho.”

“I can take over in here, Esme,” I say. “If you don’t mind changing the laundry and then starting on the bathrooms, I’d appreciate it.”

“Sí,” she says, giving Scooter a wary look one last time. “Vámonos, Sonny.” The dog follows his new best friend out the door.

“Sorry,” Scooter says again, dragging the word out for emphasis. “I wanted to see if you survived the weekend. I’m sorry you weren’t able to take the Adie Lou out for a sunset cruise.”

I take a seat on the mattress and begin tugging fresh cases onto the pillows.

“Yeah, I survived,” I say. “The weather was a total nightmare, I had to cancel nearly all of my planned activities, I considered killing my first two guests, and my final guests arrived six hours late and—oh!—were sent as spies by my ex-husband.”

I toss a finished pillow onto the bed and then begin pulling the next case on another one.

“Besides that, Mr. Lincoln, how was the play?” Scooter asks, his eyes wide.

“You know, in spite all of that, I have to say that it was pretty remarkable,” I say. “I surprised myself.”

“In what ways?”

I pull the case onto the pillow and toss it on the bed before looking at Scooter. “In every way.” I stop. “I think...no, strike that...I know I made the right decision in spite of everything I’ve gone through. This is what I was meant to do.”

Scooter takes a seat on the bed and puts his arm around me. “I’m proud of you, Adie Lou,” he says.

“Thanks.”

“So...” he finally says. “What about the spies? Aren’t you going to tell me about that?”

“Let’s just say I made the right decision about that, too,” I say, slapping his thigh.

“Okay,” he says. “I won’t ask any more questions.”

“Thanks, Barbara Walters.”

“You’re dating yourself,” he says.

“I thought I was dating you,” I say.