Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 01 - Snowed Inn by Heather Horrocks Page B

stove. “And you’d already known him all your life.”
    “So I’ve gotten smarter through the years. You girls leave me alone. I know what I’m doing.”
    “You’re making a fool of yourself.” Liz stirred something.
    Grandma looked at me thoughtfully. “Do you think I’m making a fool of myself, Vicki? By wanting to date?”
    I smiled. “Actually, I think it’s great.”
    “See?!” Grandma turned to Liz triumphantly. “Your sister always did have good sense about these things.”
    As they traded insults, I slipped back out, thankful Grandma could still cook like an angel and bake killer desserts.
    I was also thankful I had the downstairs remodeled so I didn’t need to worry about Zach running among the guests with his imaginary dog, Charlie. He could run and play and not disturb the guests or my mystery dinner. I was still looking for someone to tend him in the evenings when I would be hosting murder mystery dinners; but for tonight, Stephanie, Liz, and I would take turns checking on him.
    When a hand closed over my shoulder, I jumped. Stephanie, dressed in a waitress uniform that matched mine, said, “Relax.”
    “Oh, sure, relax, when you just shaved five-point-five years off my life span.”
    “You always did worry too much about things.” Stephanie teased me. “What can go wrong? No, wait. Instead, tell me what can go right. What has already gone right?”
    I paused to consider. “Most of the guests are here. Dinner’s on schedule. And the guests love their rooms.”
    “So what are you worried about?” Stephanie laughed gently at my fears like the old friend she was. “How long has it been since we were dressed as waitresses? I hate this outfit, by the way.”
    “Hey, babe, you wrote the script.”
    “Yeah, and in the next one, I’m going to write in a tall, wealthy woman who wears diamonds. Lots of diamonds.”
    I laughed. “All right. I’ll try to quit worrying if you don’t write in any diamonds. Otherwise, I can’t afford you.”
    Stephanie smiled. “Deal.”
    The back door opened and the wind blew in the Calabrias, along with some snow. He closed the door against the storm. Removing their coats, I could see they took my mention of formal wear seriously. I wondered how many hundreds, or possibly even thousands, BJ’s simple, slinky, black dress must have set Calabria back. Probably not as much as his obviously expensive gray-on-black pinstripe suit. BJ slipped off her snow boots and pulled stilettos from her coat pockets.
    “It’s showtime. I’d better head back to my station in the kitchen.” Stephanie whispered. “You’ll do great.”
    “Thanks.” Stephanie was right. We’d had enough glitches and now it was time for things to run smoothly. “Break a leg.”
    “Back at ya,” said Stephanie as she slipped away.
    Ready to play my part, I retrieved the basket of envelopes containing scripts and stepped forward to greet my guests. “Welcome to the Caribbean Cruise Restaurant. I will be your hostess for the evening. Inside these envelopes are your instructions. Please do not open the envelopes until asked to do so. Walk this way, please.”
    As I spoke the last words, an image of Igor from Young Frankenstein “walking this way” with a limp and a hump flashed into my mind. I resisted the urge.
     
    * * *
     
    Stephanie and I served and removed the first course of Caesar salad, and the guests were now enjoying their French onion soup.
    The play, which consisted of two parts, began the moment the guests entered the Caribbean Cruise Restaurant. The actors, playing cruise ship personnel and entertainers, had a definite script they rehearsed, in addition to any ad libbing they might do. Lonny sat at the captain’s table as (you guessed it) the captain, and looked darling in his formal white captain’s uniform. Who’d have thought, all those years ago when he dragged that stupid teddy bear behind him, that he’d grow up so darn cute?
    The preaddressed envelope I handed