Page 61 of Patio Lanterns

“You will? But why?” Robin panicked. “Shouldn’t the three of us at least talk it over before handing the Blue Canoe over to these guys?”

Lark turned to her. “Where is this coming from? Two days ago, you were the one who was so eager to sell.”

“Not like this.” Robin shook her head. “Not to some faceless, ruthless corporation.”

“Geez, relax. Dove is only going to call them to get more information.”

“That’s how it starts. You call them, and then they send over a high-pressure heavy. They try to control you with fear to get you to sign a contract. The next thing you know, there’s an eviction notice pinned to the door and a moving truck backing up to the cottage.”

Dove laughed. “Holy shit, Rob. Catastrophize much?”

Robin glanced up at the wall. “Look, I’ve gotta run, I still need to shower and change before work. Can one of you please keep an eye on Mutt Lange for me today?”

Lark wiggled a finger in her ear. “Did I hear correctly? You’re going to work? Where?”

“Over at Crawley’s,” she said, heading towards the stairs. “So please try not to sell the cottage before I get back.”

* * *

Within hours, Robin had managed to make a noticeable dent in the stock room. She’d made a neat stack of old wooden crates outside, and once she put out a “Free Firewood” sign, people started helping themselves and carting them away. Cardboard boxes had been emptied and flattened for the weekly recycling pickup, and already dozens of garbage bags had been filled and tossed in the dumpster.

Having worked up a sweat, Robin took ten with a microwaved bean burrito and a fizzy orange pop that Mrs. Crawley had given her at no charge.

“You’re doing a fine job, Robin,” she said, coming in to inspect the space. “I just wanted you to know that.”

Robin smiled, feeling rather proud of herself too. “Thanks, Mrs. C. Still plenty to do, but I think it’s moving in the right direction,” she said. “Now there’s enough room for a second chair back here, and look… you can almost see out of the window again.”

The old lady glanced away, then turned back with a little smile as she pulled out a chair for herself. “Well, keep it up.”

“Question for you. Have you ever thought of replacing that ancient cash register out there with a POS system? It would make your life so much easier.”

Mrs. C frowned. “POS?”

“It’s like a computer system at the point of sale, but it also links to everything—transactions, ordering, inventory levels, and that makes bookkeeping so much easier,” she said. “You could finally start taking electronic payments instead of just cash or credit.”

“Why would I need any of that nonsense? My system works just fine.”

“Your system is what’s been piling up back here and collecting dust since Lester B. Pearson was in office,” Robin said with a chuckle. “I use a mobile POS all the time with my job. It’s really not hard to learn. I could teach you.”

Mrs. C glared. “No, thank you.”

“Well, have you ever considered expanding? Because when I look around the store, I see lots of potential. You could bring in a selection of specialty foods. Gluten-free. Vegan. Halal. Maybe rearrange things a bit, fit in a few tables, and set up an ice cream bar. People would go nuts for dipped cones, sundaes, or milksh—”

Mrs. C continued staring like Robin was a freak of nature, appearing to be both dismayed and mildly amused.

“Only a thought,” Robin tittered, taking another bite of her burrito. She smiled awkwardly as she chewed while Mrs. C watched her curiously. “What?”

“You have a restless mind, child,” Mrs. C said. “I sense that you are in need of some guidance.” She pulled a deck of playing cards from the pocket of her cardigan. It was only when Robin focused more intently on the shuffling that she realized those were tarot cards leafing between Mrs. C’s hands.

Oh my God. She really is a witch.

“No, I am not a witch,” Mrs. C said sharply.

Robin gulped. “Huh? But how did you…?”

A grin smoothed out her wrinkly lips. “Now, close your eyes and think of a question. Anything. Something you would like answered today.”

Robin closed her eyes, but her mind was a jumble. She wanted answers to a million questions. Was her romance with Rick the real deal? Would the Cherries get back together? Should they sell the cottage? Was she going to pull off her mother’s celebration of life? Would Lark ever get off her back, give Robin her inheritance, and start treating her like an adult?

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