I wish Husband had told me when I went out to gather maple logs yesterday that we would need more than usual. But I suppose he did not yet know. Still, it was not how I had planned to spend this morning.

We had come to the bar after dinner and had not yet found stools when Sam gave us some news. "Deputy Frank came by. Seems he's gonna be inspectin' the workshop on a reg'lar basis."

Husband peered at Sam. "He can get warrants on a regular basis?"

"He claims he don't need 'em. That the shed's just part o' the bar."

"What happened to all that landlord-tenant stuff we talked about?"

"He says that only counts if there's a lease. Which, per whatever issues you got, you 'n I don't have."

"Okay, but that means it's your shed, right? So you can require a warrant?"

Sam sighed. "Establishments that serve alcohol are subject to inspection on a reg'lar basis to ensure there are no activities bein' conducted that are threatenin' or deleterious to the community."

Husband simply stared at him.

"He can inspect the bar, shed's part o' the bar..." Sam shrugged. "He can inspect the shed."

"So he can just walk in at any time? I can't even, like, put a sock on the doorknob or something?"

I did not know what this meant. Sam apparently did. He smirked. "This establishment does not provide facilities fer adult entertainment."

"I mean...can I at least lock the door? Make him knock?"

"S'pose so. Though I dunno if he watches bad cop shows...he might try to kick the door down if he hears sounds o' distress."

Deputy Frank has seemed to make a hobby of watching us, sometimes as we work at the diner, and only rarely as we work at the bar. Sam thinks it is because we are new in town, and there is very little else happening in the county to distract him. It may also be because sometimes strange things happen around us, and those who might have seen them have nothing to say to Frank if he asks them.

Husband and I do sometimes spend casual time in the workshop, but it is not very comfortable for what I think Sam meant by "adult entertainment." But we do our Eorzean crafting there, which Husband has said we should not do in front of others. So we would not want Frank walking in on us unexpectedly.

Husband was not happy about the news. I was not either, but he seemed to be taking it hard. He leaned against the back of a chair, his eyes not focused on anything in particular.

Then he lifted the chair and slammed it into the floor, smashing it.

He punched the table that was next to the chair, splitting it in two. He grabbed two chairs and crushed them together. He stomped to another table and continued his rampage, as if the room's furniture was his solo duty.

Sam and I watched silently from the bar. When Husband at last seemed to run out of rage, he stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by debris. His head and shoulders drooped.

Sam quietly said, "Y'know...yer just makin' more work fer yerself..."

"Something for Frank to walk in on," Husband muttered. After a moment he made himself straighten. "Guess I'll get started on the replacements." He headed through the back to the workshop.

I turned to Sam and smiled. "I will pick up the pieces."

"Don't ferget yer shift. Yer husband get like this a lot?"

"When we were...on deployment, there was usually a good target for anger."

"Remind him he ain't on deployment now?"

"I will."