There were two bedrooms on the ground floor, one with a single queen bed and a bathroom where, long ago, the mothers’ helpers used to stay. The other was a spacious room called the dorm, with three twin beds, each with a trundle. She’d put Sam and Connor in the smaller room. Connor could share a bed with his stepdad, or he could sleep with Miles and Dexter in the dorm, which, Ronnie supposed, he would probably prefer.
She put fresh linens on the beds, then climbed the stairs slowly, thinking as she walked. Normally, she’d put Sarah and Eli and Ruby in the guesthouse. Sarah and Eli would take the bedroom, with its king-sized bed, and Ruby would get the Murphy bed that pulled down from the guest house’s living-room wall. She’d loved that bed as a kid, Ronnie remembered, picturing Ruby pulling it down, then folding it back, watching as the wood on the bed’s base blended in almost invisibly with the wall. “It’s like magic!” she’d said.
But Ruby was the bride now, which meant that she should have the entire guesthouse. Ruby and her husband-to-be could sleep in the bedroom and keep the living room free for whatever beauty ministrations Ruby and her bridesmaids intended for her big day. Ronnie wasn’t sure what Ruby’s plans were, if she’d arranged for people to help with her hair and makeup, if she even planned on having bridesmaids, or wearing a traditional wedding gown. When she’d offered to help, Ruby had refused. “Don’t worry about anything, Safta,” Ruby said. “I’ve got it all under control.” Typical Ruby, Ronnie thought. Ruby, like her stepmother, had always been a competent girl, making her own arrangements because she didn’t trust anyone to do it as well as she could. Ronnie was musing that it was nice to be a guest in your own home, and how she’d get to be surprised by Ruby’s dress, when her phone rang. She set down her laundry basket and pulled her phone out of her pocket.
“Speak of the devil,” she said to Ruby. “I was just thinking about you!”
“What were you thinking?” Ruby asked.
“About how much you loved the Murphy bed when you were little.”
“Oh, right,” Ruby said. Sarah could picture her, her ringlets, her pale skin, and her smile. “It was like magic!”
“That’s what you’d say.” Ronnie stretched from side to side. She’d woken up with her back feeling stiff again. “Did you set up any hair and makeup?”
“Yep. Called a salon in P-town. They’re sending two people Saturday morning.” Ruby paused.
“So, listen,” she said. “I need a favor.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
Ruby inhaled. “Gabe’s mother’s coming out.”
“To her son’s wedding? I should hope so,” Ronnie said.
“His mom’s bringing her sister, Gabe’s aunt Amanda,” Ruby continued. “And the thing is…”
Ruby paused. Ronnie waited.
“They’ll probably get a hotel,” Ruby said, her voice rising, almost imperceptibly, on the word “probably.” “Except I just went online, and everything’s sold out. There’s nothing left. No hotels; no Airbnbs.”
Ronnie didn’t reply, but what she was thinking was that if Gabe’s people hadn’t booked something already, there would be exactly a zero percent chance of them finding a place. At this point ahead of a normal summer, everything would be booked, from the budget motels to the high-end bed-and-breakfasts, and in a world still coming out of a pandemic, when everyone was extra-desperate to travel and could only do it domestically, it was even worse.
“But just in case…” Ruby’s words came in a rush. “Maybe, if Gabe and I stay in the guesthouse, his mom can crash on the Murphy bed for a night or two.”
“His mom and his aunt?” Ronnie permitted a little doubt to season her voice. “Do you really want other people in the guesthouse with you the night before your wedding?”
“It’ll be fine,” Ruby said stiffly.
“And they’ll be okay sharing a bed?” Ronnie was already trying to remember what had happened to the air mattress she’d used one year when she’d hosted Thanksgiving and couldn’t get out of inviting her sister and brother-in-law and their kids, who were, of course, too cheap to spring for hotel rooms.
“I think they’re close.” Ruby made a scoffing noise. “Except I think his aunt’s maybe kind of a bad influence. That’s what Gabe says.”
“Well, that’s a not uncommon family dynamic,” said Ronnie, thinking of her son-in-law and his brother, and about her own sister, who’d convinced her, many years ago when they were both teenagers, to shave off her eyebrows. They’d never completely grown back, either, she thought, with a prickle of irritation. “I’m giving you the entire guesthouse. Anyone you want to stay there is fine with me,” Ronnie said.