The Dragoon Lady holds up a manicured finger, stopping me in midsentence. “Gladys?” She snaps her fingers, and Gladys produces a calendar. “Let’s just pencil in a date, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Is this necessary?” I ask, my voice rising, my facade breaking. “I’m applying for all appropriate licenses. Frank is running everything by the city for approval. I’m meeting every necessary standard. I’m not changing the character of the home. I’m trying to improve it, share its history with others. This is not a rebuild of a historic home.”

“Mrs. Clarke,” the Dragoon Lady starts.

“It’s Kruger,” I say.

“Oh,” she says, her voice filled with sadness. She turns to her committee. “A divorcée, ladies.”

The women shake their heads.

“Excuse me?” I say. “Now you’re just being rude. None of this falls under your committee’s purview.”

“There are a limited number of historic cottages on our lakeshore, Mrs. Clarke...Kruger...and the town cannot stand idly by and allow private residences to be turned into motels.”

“Inns,” I say. “And it’s allowed by law.”

“Strangers coming and going in this community of fine lakeshore cottages may be lawful, but it is not proper,” she continues. “Making noise, screaming children on the beach, cars parked everywhere.” She stops and looks around. “I know you need the money to keep this cottage, but your parents would be aghast.”

“How dare you presume to know what my parents would think!” I say, my voice rising. “They loved me more than anything, and they would want me to do anything I could to keep this cottage in our family.” I realize I sound like a child throwing a tantrum in Target, but I can’t stop myself. “And my parents couldn’t stand you! This cottage and this town mean everything to me, and I’ll do whatever I need to do to keep it.

“Get out!” I thunder. “Get out of my house. And take your stupid welcome basket with you!”

I grab the basket and try to push it into the Dragoon Lady’s hands, but she doesn’t raise her arms. Instead, Gladys scurries forward to take it, while the other two women continue scribbling notes. I open the front door and motion dramatically with my arms for the women to leave. The Dragoon Lady stops on the front porch and turns. “We can make it very hard on you,” she says with a sly smile. “Permits might be harder to come by... We’d hate to see your summer season delayed. It’s so hard for a new business to stay afloat if it opens in October. Not to mention that bad word of mouth can ruin a new business, and we have very loud mouths, don’t we, ladies?”

The women nod in unison.

“Get off my property!”