Home for the Holidays

by Sara Richardson

  “Fine. I’m sorry.” Gregory’s audible sigh stole the authenticity from the apology. “My mother is stressing me out, that’s all. I don’t want to face the next few weeks without you here.”

  The comment should’ve warmed her but instead her shoulders tensed. “Maybe you should stand up to your mother,” she murmured. It wasn’t the first time she’d made the suggestion, but she always did her best to tread carefully. “You could come here for Christmas too, you know.” She tried to make the invitation sound sultry. “Skip all the craziness and stay at the inn with me. It would be so cozy and quiet…” It very well might be the last cozy, quiet days they would have together before she joined his family for good.

  “I can’t leave. You know that. I have obligations here.”

  He could leave, but he wouldn’t. His loyalty to his family was one of the things she’d admired most about him. Almost all the time. But there was also this side of her that wished he would choose her. Choose them. She let herself dream for a few seconds. Maybe he would show up at the front door of the inn with a beautiful red poinsettia. He’d tell her he couldn’t bear to spend Christmas without her—that he’d told his mother where she could stick all her holiday events and had commandeered the family’s jet to sneak away and be with her. They could sit in front of the fireplace wrapped in a blanket, sipping spiked hot chocolate. They could share boisterous meals with her sisters and aunt, and he could get to know the people she loved most in the world.

  Rose shook her head at her inner romantic. That would never happen. Gregory would stay in Savannah because that’s what was expected of him. She glanced around the room again taking in the various fairy-tale images. For some reason she had a hard time envisioning her and Gregory’s happily-ever-after without Evaline sneering in the background like one of the Disney villains.

  “Listen, I have a meeting.” Her fiancé suddenly sounded distracted again. “I’ll have to call you later.”

  She said goodbye and hung up the phone, deciding to leave it on the nightstand as she got out of bed. She needed time away from the phone calls, time away from disappointing people, time away from the potential guilt trips she would get when she talked to Gregory, or her mother, for that matter. Rose couldn’t wait to hear what Lillian had to say when she heard her estranged sister wasn’t dying after all.

  Pushing off the bed, Rose shoved her feet into the Ugg slippers she’d packed in one of her four suitcases and padded across the wooden floor to the window. The cold temperatures had fogged over the glass, but she could still make out the frozen pond farther down the hill. Her heart swelled thinking about how she and her sisters used to ice-skate down there. They would dress up in tutus and pretend they were part of the Ice Capades. Sassy would bring them down a tray of steaming hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and marvel over their spins and fake jumps. Sassy had always done that—doted on them, indulged their girlish dreams and wishes.

  It wasn’t only creating the princess room or gushing over how smart and creative they were, Sassy simply had this way of bringing out the best in everyone. She had this miraculous ability to care about the people who crossed her path. And her spirit had been infused into this place. Whenever she had come to visit Sassy at the inn, Rose had been free to simply be who she was without worrying it wasn’t enough. Now that she knew about her aunt’s past—that she’d been separated from the man she loved—it made sense. Her aunt had learned to open her heart. Sassy had so much love to give that she made everyone her family. There was no better gift than that acceptance.

  Here Rose didn’t have to exercise at five o’clock every morning to keep herself toned and on the lower end of a size six. Heck, she didn’t have to take a shower and spend a half hour straightening her hair and another twenty minutes applying face products and makeup. She didn’t even have to change out of her flannel pajamas. No siree, she could wear them right downstairs to the breakfast table and no one here would think a thing of it.

  Reveling in that freedom, Rose threw open the door and padded down the hall to the rickety old staircase. Something smelled absolutely divine—like the buttery, gooey inside of a cinnamon roll. Homemade. Dripping with frosting. Suddenly all that sugar sounded like the best breakfast she could imagine. She hurried down the rest of the stairs and careened into the kitchen where she came to a sudden stop.

  Sassy was pulling a tray of her famous cinnamon rolls out of the oven, but it seemed they also had company. Two men sat at the kitchen table, and one of them needed no introduction. She’d recognize those intense dark eyes from a mile away, flannel or no flannel.

  “Rosie! You’re finally up.” Sassy set the pan of cinnamon rolls on the stovetop and rushed over to usher her into the kitchen, flannel pajamas and all. “You girls must’ve stayed up late last night. I hope you slept well?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Why, oh why had she decided not to change out of her pajamas? Or at least to glance in a mirror to smooth down her hair? She tugged out of Sassy’s hold and drifted to the other side of the kitchen island, as far away from the Christmas tree Grinch she’d met in the park as she could get.

  “Since you girls slept in, I decided to enlist some help for our sprucing up efforts.” Sassy left Rose’s side and carried the tray of cinnamon rolls to the table. “This is Ike.” She pointed to the man Rose hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting.

  “Nice to meet you.” He stood immediately like he wanted to shake her hand, but Rose stayed where she was. She did, however, manage to summon a small smile. “Nice to meet you, too.” It wasn’t nice. It was downright embarrassing being in her pajamas and all.

  “And this is Colt.” Her aunt gestured to the Christmas tree Grinch.

  “Colt,” Rose repeated. The name seemed to suit him. Wild and untamed. “Yes, we’ve met.” And, as seemed to be her luck, she was humiliating herself in front of the man yet again.

  A look of recognition passed over his face, which didn’t appear nearly as imposing without the hat and menacing scowl. “You’re the tree lady. Didn’t recognize you.”

  He might as well have said he didn’t recognize her because she’d just rolled out of bed. Good Lord. What was Sassy thinking inviting people over before any of them were up? Rose hadn’t even bothered to put on a bra!

  “The tree lady?” Sassy started to set plates around the table.

  “He thought I was stealing ornaments off the town’s Christmas tree,” Rose said hotly. Bra or no bra, she wasn’t going to let this man think she was some lunatic. “When I was simply trying to rearrange them for better placement.”

  “Ah yes.” Her aunt chuckled. “You always did have an eye for putting things right.” She brought a pitcher of orange juice to the table. “Colt’s hardware store let the kids decorate this year. It was so cute when all those little ones hung up the ornaments wherever they could reach. They thought it was the best thing ever.”

  “Oh.” Rose let out the gasp of surprise. “I didn’t realize the kids decorated the tree.” But now the disorganized appearance made more sense. “Had I known—”

  “No matter, no matter. You were only trying to help.” Sassy started to fill glasses with juice. Six glasses, so these men were likely staying for breakfast. “Ike and Colt have graciously offered their services to help us fix up this old place for the holidays, so I thought it would be helpful for us all to sit down and discuss the details.”

  Sure, helpful. At lunch, maybe. Or dinner. But not when she was dressed in her pajamas with her hair all bent out of shape. Rose refused to even look at Ike and Colt. “Um, you know, I have some things to take care of upstairs.” She started to back away. “I can come down later. After breakfast, and—”

  “You’ll do no such thing.” Sassy rushed over and guided her to the chair across from Ike. “Since you’re already down here, whatever you need to do can wait. This won’t take long. Dahlia’s on a walk but I expect her back shortly. And I heard Mags up and about, so I’m sure she’ll be down any minute.” Her aunt’s face beam
ed with a genuine happiness. “Then we can all enjoy a nice breakfast together the way we used to.”

  Nice? Rose could think of a few other adjectives to describe having to sit across the table from the man who’d accused her of being a criminal…and not one of them involved the world “nice.”

  Chapter Ten

  Dahlia

  Dahlia tromped through the freshly fallen snow in her knee-high Sorels, a layer of sweat burning beneath the beanie she’d pulled down over her forehead. A good half-hour walk around the property hadn’t seemed to clear the nervous energy that had been buzzing inside of her since she’d woken up before seven.

  Back home, her day always started much earlier than that—Ollie had been born an early riser and was usually bright-eyed by six o’clock. It took a couple of hours to get the kids ready for school, between packing lunches and making a big breakfast with the right balance of carbs and protein that would hold them over until their noon lunch hour. Then there was the whole getting dressed issue. Based on what Ollie chose out of his closet every morning, she’d come to suspect he might be color-blind. No matter what he said, his orange shirt most definitely did not match the neon green pants his father had bought him.

  Maya didn’t have the matching clothing issue; hers happened to be more of an indecisive issue, especially now that she’d gotten a little older. She’d come down in at least three different outfits every morning and then end up lamenting that she had absolutely nothing cool to wear. On the really tough mornings she’d dissolve into tears and swear she was never leaving the house again, or at least not until she got a whole new wardrobe from a tween-approved store. Dahlia would spend precious minutes each morning talking her off the ledge, coaxing her back up to her room where they would choose an outfit together since no stores were open before eight anyway.

  An emptiness seemed to spread straight out of her heart in a consuming ache. God, she missed her children. Pausing, she let go of a sigh, trying to keep her heart from sinking into sadness. Since she’d left Minnesota, this restlessness had followed her around, and it had really hit hard when she’d woken up and realized she had nothing to do today. Well, nothing tied to the schedule that had kept her afloat for the last year during the divorce anyway. She didn’t know how to do nothing, how to be alone with her thoughts. They kept drifting back to the kids. What were they doing now? Were they eating right? Why hadn’t they called her this morning?

  She lifted her head and tried to focus on the view laid out in front of her. On the trees’ frozen pine needles. On the frosted surface of the small pond. It was true that the inn appeared more run-down than it once had, but in the early morning snow, with the layer of fresh sparkling powder and the sun trying to break out from behind the gauzy clouds, beauty seemed to gleam off every surface.

  The world around her had frozen, from the tree limbs to the wild grasses but it wasn’t nearly as cold as Minnesota felt this time of year. Here there was no humidity. You didn’t feel the heavier air that seemed to seep right into your bones. She’d never gotten used to it, and, despite growing up in Minnesota, neither had Maya. And there went Dahlia’s thoughts again, drifting away from her, centering on her babies. Was Maya warm enough in France? Dahlia had been obsessively checking the weather every day, and Paris was going through a cold snap right now…

  Walk. She had to walk and think about something else. The problem was, she had no idea what that something else could be. Her PTA duties were over for the semester at school. Usually, this time of year she didn’t have one spare second to think…between the baking and the gift buying and the preparation for meals—Christmas Eve dinner with their good friends, Christmas brunch with her ex-in-laws, Christmas dinner with whatever family could make it all the way to Minnesota to celebrate. Then there was the wrapping and the cleaning and the classic wintry memories she always felt pressured to create with the kids…sledding and ice-skating and building snowmen. This year there would be no Christmas memories with her kids. They were busy building new memories without her—images from their childhood she wouldn’t get to be a part of. And she was here…wandering aimlessly through the snow trying find the right path to follow.

  Dahlia plowed a trail up the small hill that led back to the Juniper Inn’s main house, pausing at the crest where the old camping Shasta trailer they’d named Betty came into view. A smile snuck up on her as she walked toward it, edging her way through a small stand of aspen trees that had seemed to grow in a circle around it, hemming it in. Snow fell from the tree branches as she brushed against them, slipping down into the back of her coat, but she kept moving closer, drawn in by the memories.

  She and her sisters used to spend so much time in old Betty, playing dress up and having tea parties and camping out in the summer. It felt like the trailer had been their own secret hideaway. Rose had even sewed some curtains and pillows for the trailer. Dahlia had tried to help but had failed miserably, as she did in most creative pursuits.

  Like the rest of the resort, the trailer had seen better days. Rust crept up the fenders and the pretty turquoise color she’d loved so much back then had faded into a mint green. She might be older and a bit shabby, but with those shiny chrome fenders and the black eyelashes Sassy had helped them paint around the windows, Betty still held her charm.

  Dahlia crept around to the other side and tried the door, but it was locked. She hoisted herself up onto the small step and cleared snow off the window so she could peer in. She couldn’t see much through the dingy glass, but there were still toys in there. More clutter than she remembered…

  “There you are.”

  The sound of Sassy’s voice nearly made her topple off the steps. Dahlia carefully climbed down and turned to find her aunt cutting through the aspen trees. “You kept Betty.” She didn’t know why it surprised her. Judging from the amount of old trinkets and magazines in the house, her aunt didn’t get rid of much.

  “I had to keep her.” Sassy patted Betty’s siding like she was an old friend. “She’s a piece of history around here. Every time I see her, I picture you girls in your spinny dresses, as you used to call them.”

  Dahlia laughed a little. “Yes, spinny dresses.” The fancy dresses that used to flare when they would twirl in circles. “And you kept our toys?” They’d stashed countless stuffed animals and tea sets and books in there. Most of which they’d bought with Sassy at garage sales around town over the years. “You haven’t used her for anything else since then?”

  “Just storage. I didn’t have much use for Betty after you girls quit coming to see me.” She smiled sadly. “Living here, it’s not like I need to go camping or anything. I’ve got all the wilderness I need.”

  Dahlia smiled too, but she couldn’t get past her aunt’s first statement. “I’m sorry we stopped coming to see you, Sassy.” She’d never considered how lonely it must’ve been for her aunt after their mother walked away from their relationship. They’d all been so close. Sassy had been like a second mother to them, and then one day their mother told them they wouldn’t be going back to Colorado. Dahlia had wondered why, but that was also when life had started to get much busier. She’d become part of the theater group at school and was wrapped up in her honors classes. The questions and wonderings about Sassy and her mother had simply drifted away until she hadn’t thought about them much. “What happened?” she asked now. She’d asked her mother before, but Lillian had simply said she and Sassy didn’t get along and had nothing in common.

  “Did you and Mom have a fight?” She couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been about. They’d never even argued as far as she remembered. Sure, sisters drifted apart, especially when they lived so far away. She’d be the first to admit she’d gotten wrapped up in her own life and rarely remembered to call Mags and Rose. That’s one reason she was here—to reconnect with them. But what could possibly have happened to tear two sisters apart? Especially when Lillian had to know her sister was sent away from the family simply for falling in love. Sassy needed her
sister. She needed her nieces.

  Her aunt’s gaze shifted away as though searching for something far in the distance. “It was all so long ago,” she murmured. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Now that you’re here we can simply enjoy our time together. There’s no sense in dwelling on the past.”

  Dahlia recognized an evasive maneuver when she saw one.

  “It seems our friend Betty here could use some sprucing up, too.” Her aunt ran her gloved hand over the faded paint. “A little elbow grease and she’d be as good as new.”

  Challenge accepted. “I’d love to see the inside.” If only the kids could be here to see it, too. Wouldn’t Maya love all those clothes? And Ollie would be in heaven surrounded by all the books.

  “That can be arranged.” Her aunt turned and started to walk away, shuffling through the snow. “I’ll have to find the key, but I know it’s around somewhere.” She peered back over her shoulder. “After breakfast, though. That’s why I came out to look for you in the first place. We have some company joining us, and there’s a lot to discuss if we’re going to pull off this event in only a few short weeks.”

  “Right.” Dahlia fell in step behind her. “A project is good. I need something to focus on. I need a project.” If they discussed the details about the Christmas extravaganza this morning, she could spend the next several days lost in the details. Add in the work on Betty and she wouldn’t have time to miss the kids, to think about the emptiness that seemed to consume her when she was away from them.