phone to call Renie, the two couples from Alaska returned, laughing their heads off. By the time Judith got to the entry hall, she could see only feet as they headed up to their rooms. The Canadian father and son were still out. As Judith was about to lock the door, she heard someone on the front porch. She saw a man and woman through the peephole. “Yes?” she said, opening the door.
“Hi,” the raven-haired woman said. “We heard you have a vacancy. Can we come in?”
The couple looked respectable and had two small overnight bags. “Please do,” Judith said, stepping aside to let them enter. Before she could close the door, Sweetums padded inside with a disdainful swish of his plumelike tail. “Did you find us through the state B&B office?”
The man, who Judith judged to be in his mid-thirties, turned to the woman, who looked about the same age. “The…what?”
His companion nodded. “Someone with the state,” she replied, and gave Judith a self-deprecating look. “I’m awful at names.”
“That’s okay,” Judith said. “Your room is the largest one we have.” She paused, waiting for one of the newcomers to inquire about price.
“Sounds great,” the man said. “How do we pay?”
“Credit card or cash,” Judith replied. “Is this for one night?”
“We’re not sure,” he said, taking two one-hundred-dollar bills out of his wallet. “Will that cover it?”
“That covers the room,” Judith said. “There’s tax, of course.” He dug out two twenties. “Does that work?”
Judith accepted the bills. “More than enough. Do you want change?”
He hesitated, watching a haughty Sweetums study him from the parlor door. “Keep it for the cat.” The man smiled, revealing a slight gap between his front teeth. “Where’s the room?”
“I’ll show you.” She picked up the registration book from the oak stand next to the credenza and noticed that she’d left her notations about the train trip alongside the visitor information. Not wanting Mike or Kristin to discover her plans, she tucked the travel data inside the registry. “Name?”
The woman burst into laughter. The man looked bemused. “You’d better let me fill that out,” he said. “It’s hard to spell.”
Judith watched him print ZYZZYVA in the appropriate space. “You’re right,” she agreed. “It is hard to spell. How is it pronounced?”
The woman laughed again. “I told you I was awful with names. It’s taken me two years to spell his. It’s pronounced Zee-zee-vah.”
Judith smiled. “I hope your first names are easier.”
“They are,” Mr. Zyzzyva said. “I’m Dick, she’s Jane.”
“That I can do,” Judith assured them.
Dick finished the registration form while Jane tried to pet Sweetums, who briefly allowed the attention until he yawned and ambled off to the living room.
“I like cats,” Jane said in a rather wistful voice. “House cats, I mean. The undomesticated types are to be avoided.”
“Definitely,” Judith agreed, handing over the keys and the B&B information packet.
“I’ll go up with you. Breakfast starts at…” She paused as the front door opened to admit the Canadian father and son.
Jane was already on the first landing. “You’re busy. We’ll figure it out. Thanks!” She continued going upstairs.
Jean-Paul Gauthier and his son, Étienne, were touring the United States to visit parks, gardens, and other outdoor areas designed by Frederick Law Olmsted and his sons. Judith had spoken only briefly to the Gauthiers upon their late check-in. Étienne, who preferred being called Steve, was working on his PhD in landscape architecture. As part of his dissertation, he and his father were touring North America to study numerous sites designed by the Olmsteds.
“Were you able to see much of interest this late in the day?” Judith asked.
“Sometimes,” Gauthier père replied in his French-Canadian joual accent, “you see more in the dark. Shapes, forms, how sky and earth mingle. The rain is not so good, but it has stopped now.”
Gauthier fils darted an amused look at his father. “Papa has eyes like a cat,” he said with only a faint accent. “I’d rather see things in daylight.”
The father gave the son an indulgent look. “The young—so literal. We must humor them, eh? Our accommodations are most agreeable, madame. Merci et bon soir.” He sketched a little bow.
The pair went upstairs. Judith locked the door and returned to the kitchen. It was ten-thirty, but not too late to call Renie, who was a night owl.
“Oh, good grief!” Renie exclaimed after Judith finished her recap of the situation with Mike’s family. “You get rid of one pain in the butt with Willie and then you end up in another mess.