Back to the Lake Breeze Hotel

by Amie Denman

  “I did win second place for one of my costumes,” Alice said, “even though the highest medal I got for my skating was third place.”

  “That’s what counts,” June said, laughing. She raised her glass to Alice in a mock toast. After that, the waitstaff delivered salads and Evie postponed the rest of the formal business until after they enjoyed their food.

  Nate tried to eat, but his consciousness of Alice right at his elbow stole his appetite. He’d forgotten about her junior figure skating days. They were over by the time they’d started dating senior year, but the trophies had been on her parents’ fireplace mantel. Did she ever skate nowadays?

  The more he worked with her, the more the past assailed him at every turn. Keeping his professional smile at work was twelve times more difficult with his ex-fiancée filling his radar screen.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “I’M SEEING STARLIGHT POINT with fresh eyes,” Virginia told her son Jack as he stooped and picked up a candy wrapper from the midway. She’d seen her husband, Ford, do the same thing dozens of times. Her oldest looked so much like his father. Every once in a while, Virginia almost thought she was seeing her late husband when she caught a glimpse of Jack from across the midway.

  “Did you get new glasses?” Jack teased.

  Virginia laughed. “I never imagined staying open throughout the fall and winter because I always thought of Starlight Point as a summer resort, but now I see it’s just as beautiful in the autumn.”

  “You and Dad were probably wiser than we are. If we stay open four more months, when am I ever going to get some rest and recharge for next year?” Jack asked.

  “There’s more than one way to recharge,” Virginia said. “You could paint one of these pumpkins. Art is very therapeutic.”

  “Judging from the cars coming across the bridge, you’re going to need all the pumpkins and paint you’ve got,” Jack said. “After last weekend, we doubled our supplies of pumpkin pie, apple cider and even cinnamon squash ice cream.”

  Three hours later, Virginia realized how right her son was. She and Henry worked side by side handing out pumpkins, distributing art supplies and even helping kids glue yarn wigs on their creations. The line at their craft station next to the kiddieland carousel wasn’t dwindling, but their supplies were.

  “We may get desperate here and just hand out carving knives to the kids,” Henry said.

  Virginia laughed. “I called Alice and asked her to send more paint, yarn and glue.” She pointed toward the kiddieland carousel. “Here she comes.”

  Alice threaded her way through the crowd but stopped to admire a little girl’s artistic creation, taking a moment to snap a picture of the girl and her mother with the mother’s smartphone. Virginia imagined that photo would be a keeper, worthy of being printed and framed. Her house was still full of those reminders of her children and her husband. Even though she lived alone, she had their smiling faces frozen in time to keep her company.

  “Your hands are empty,” Henry said when Alice approached. “Do you need me to go haul boxes of supplies?”

  “Not exactly,” Alice said as she draped an arm around both Virginia and Henry and pulled them aside. “I checked our storage area, and we’re cleaned out of pumpkin craft items.”

  “Uh-oh,” Virginia said, eyeing the line of wiggly children. “At this rate, I would estimate we have two hours’ worth of supplies left. Maybe less.”

  “So we go with carving knives?” Henry asked.

  “No,” Virginia and Alice said together.

  “I’ll be glad to go on an emergency supply run,” Henry offered. “My car is in the marina lot and I could try to hustle back before the kids paint through what we have left.”

  “Would you?” Alice asked.

  “Sure. Just tell me where to get art supplies in Bayside.”

  “There’s a craft superstore on the west side of town, just beyond where they built the train overpass a few years ago,” Virginia said.

  She’d been there with her girlfriends on one of their lunch outings. The store had only been open a year, but it was already a favorite because they had yarn in every color and texture imaginable, home decor and candles. There was even a classroom in the back where she and her friends had attempted to make a holiday wreath out of foam and ribbons. Her final product hadn’t looked much like the sample, but the instructor had said it was the thought that counted. Virginia had raised a glass of wine afterward with her friends, toasting their artistic attempts.

  “They built a train overpass?” Henry asked.

  “How long have you been away?” Alice replied, smiling.

  “Since I was old enough to enlist in the air force. But don’t worry, I’ll find the store if you give me good directions. There used to be a great place to get ice cream on the west side. I wonder if it’s still there?”

  “I remember it,” Virginia said. “My sister and I used to ride our bikes there when we got our babysitting money in the summer. The scoops always overflowed the cone and we’d have to ride home with sticky hands.” She also remembered taking her own children there with her husband at the wheel of the family car. He’d never minded a few ice cream drips on the car’s seats.

  Alice and Virginia described the rerouted state highway and the location of the craft superstore. Henry wrote directions on the back of a live shows program Virginia found on the midway, and he also wrote down the list of supplies both women suggested.

  As he tucked the paper in his shirt pocket, he turned to Alice. “Do you think you could find replacements for me and Virginia for the next two hours?”

  At Henry’s words, Virginia felt a lightness in her chest as if she were one of the many seagulls taking off from the beach in front of the hotel. Was he going to suggest they go together? Her past memories of Ford and her present friendship with Henry blended in a watery mixture she couldn’t separate.

  “Sure,” Alice said. Did she have to sound so eager? Her willingness to help was clearly going to lead to a tough choice for Virginia, and she’d already made so many in the five years since Ford had passed away quietly on a park bench at Starlight Point without getting a chance to say goodbye.

  “I was thinking,” Henry said, turning a wide smile on Virginia. She knew what was coming. “If you came along and made sure I didn’t get lost, we’d save enough time to stop and see if that ice cream place is still there.”

  Virginia knew full well that it was, because she’d driven by it dozens of times over the years. Did she want to open her trove of memories and layer Henry over parts of them?

  “I shouldn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d feel bad leaving when there’s so much work to do.” Blaming her refusal on work was a safe excuse, even though it was cowardly.

  Henry held out a hand. “Come with me. I need a copilot.”

  Virginia hesitated, torn between feeling like a girl being asked on a date and a woman turning her back on her past.

  Alice laughed suddenly, intruding on Virginia’s thoughts. “It’s just shopping and ice cream, Virginia. You’ll be back before the paint dries on these pumpkins, and I’d feel better sending you to the craft store to make sure Henry gets the washable paint. We don’t want parents to hate us.”

  “When you put it that way, I guess I better go along,” Virginia said. She joined Henry and walked by his side toward the marina gate, but she didn’t take his hand. She needed to keep things in perspective.

  * * *

  “I WOULDN’T ASK if I wasn’t desperate,” Alice said, grabbing Nate’s shirtsleeve as he took a picture of the pumpkins lined up on her table. She leaned close and the movement caught him by surprise. Their heads knocked together and they both laughed and rubbed their foreheads. Nate drew back quickly and his smile returned to neutral.

  “What’s the emergency?” he asked.

  “I’m fighting the battle o
f the pumpkin station and losing. I sent Virginia and Henry off for supplies an hour ago, but I haven’t found anyone to replace them.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be back soon,” Nate said.

  “Not soon enough,” Alice replied, pointing down the long line of kids waiting for their turn at the pumpkin decorating station. Parents juggled strollers, bags and toddlers. Their faces suggested the patience that comes with parenthood, but how long could it last?

  “If you’re out of supplies, I’m not sure what you want me to do,” Nate said.

  Was he really refusing to offer ideas or lend a hand? Alice remembered a different Nate from their high school days. He’d gotten a good citizenship award and had been a member of the school honor society. He was the kind of guy a teacher would ask to deliver a note to the office or show a new kid around.

  But only Alice knew that his affability was an outside layer, always protecting a deep center he never let anyone see. Even her, the woman he’d asked to be his wife and share his future. How much of that life would she have shared if she’d gone through with the marriage? She didn’t know, and that was what had scared her out of the wedding at the last minute.

  Alice swallowed and reminded herself their job was not about their past or what they had shared. It was about making Starlight Point a success. And at the moment, success meant making kids and parents happy by helping them decorate pumpkins. She offered Nate a professional smile. “We’re not totally out. Help me with this? Please?”

  Nate sighed and put his camera on a box behind Alice’s table. “I’ll get another table from the storage room behind the ballroom and get someone to help me haul some chairs over here. That way it’ll at least look like we’re accommodating more people.”

  “I hope to more than just look like we’re doing our jobs,” Alice said. Did it always have to be about appearances with him?

  “Do you want the chairs and tables or not?”

  She pressed her lips together and cut a glance to the waiting kids. “Fine. Yes. Please.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  As promised, Nate hauled a long table to a spot next to Alice’s and had it on its feet only five minutes later. Three maintenance men juggling two chairs under each arm followed him. As a dozen children sat up to the table and reached for their pie-sized pumpkins, the line flexed and settled.

  “Nice work,” Alice said. “Thank you.”

  “Just avoiding a riot,” Nate answered.

  Alice laughed. “I’m trying to picture a riot involving strollers and sippy cups.”

  “They’re the worst. Those parents are armed with enough supplies to withstand a siege, and little kids are usually five minutes from a meltdown.”

  “How do you know all this?” Alice asked. It had never occurred to her that Nate might have moved on, even had a child or two of his own in the past five years. Silence had been a wall between them.

  “My sister has three-year-old twins. Those last few minutes before naptime or bedtime are a minefield of emotion.”

  How many men refer to emotion as a minefield?

  “So you don’t babysit much,” she commented as they stood shoulder to shoulder watching parents help their kids transform pumpkins into art.

  “You know I’ve been working in Florida.”

  Alice nodded. She swallowed, wanting to ask about his reasons for coming home. She’d heard through the company grapevine about his father’s illness. She remembered Mr. Graham, of course. How many times had she been at Nate’s house during high school and then their two-year engagement? She could picture Murray Graham’s face at the rehearsal dinner when she finally got up the courage to face the fact she wasn’t ready to marry his son.

  “How was Florida?” she asked, trying to forget the image of Nate’s father’s stricken face. When she’d replayed her bombshell moment later, she remembered that Nate’s father had shown a bigger reaction than the jilted man himself.

  “Fine,” Nate said. “Florida is very hot, and the crowds in the amusement park there make this look like a private party.”

  “Did you miss home?”

  “Sometimes.”

  Was she one of the things he’d missed? She doubted it. She risked a glance but found his face was a mask of PR diplomacy. Anyone passing by would think they were talking about the weather or why leaves change colors in the fall.

  Alice was tired of dodging her past. Their past.

  “I’m sorry about your father’s illness.”

  “Thank you,” he said coldly.

  “It’s kind of you to come home and help him through this.”

  “I’m his son.”

  This was even harder than she’d imagined, even though she knew Nate was capable of bricking up a wall in record time if emotion was on the other side.

  “Well, I wish...I mean...if there’s anything I can do to help, I hope you’ll—”

  “There’s nothing I need from you, Alice.”

  Alice crossed her arms and turned away, his cold words leaving a trail of ice through her stomach. Was that how married life would have been whenever a tough subject came up?

  She sighed with relief when she saw Virginia and Henry headed toward her. They pulled a wagon filled with boxes, bags and extra pumpkins. Each of them had a hand on the wagon handle and shared the weight as they trudged down the midway. They were laughing about something, and Alice imagined they could have pulled that wagon all the way to the Wonderful West without noticing any burden.

  If only Nate would let me share some of the weight of his problems, she thought. She turned to him with the intention of being more direct with her offer. They were once engaged...

  Instead of getting a chance, she got a view of his back as he strode toward the older couple and took the handle from Virginia. He gave Virginia a warm smile and clapped Henry on the back.

  Nate was perfectly capable of being nice to other people, but Alice wondered what would happen if they tried to get too close to him. And what about his father’s illness? Did he wear his neutral mask sitting by his father’s side during chemotherapy?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  HENRY DROPPED OFF a big box of pamphlets he’d picked up from the printer in Bayside. “We should set up our own print shop here at Starlight Point instead of outsourcing it,” he said. “It seems like it would save money and time.”

  Nate looked up from his computer. “I could suggest it to one of the Hamiltons, but I’d guess there’s probably a reason they do it this way. Maybe it’s good that the Point has connections with local businesses.”

  “Unless it’s a project that requires secrecy,” Henry commented. “The lady at the print shop almost talked my ear off about the fall festivals, and she wanted to know what the Christmas events would be like. I told her I was only the errand boy and I didn’t know a thing. I hardly made it out of there.”

  Nate smiled as he got up and opened the box. He took out a glossy brochure and admired it. Just like the proofs he’d approved, the warm fall colors and enticing photography and fonts made the upcoming October weekends so appealing anyone would want to visit—even those who’d already been there in September. “Maybe she liked you,” he told Henry.

  Henry chuckled. “I don’t think that’s a likely explanation. How about you? I’d hate to see a young man like you make the mistakes I did and end up alone.”

  “You don’t seem that lonely to me. What mistakes are you talking about?”

  “I always thought I was too busy to have a wife, and I wasn’t so sure any woman would want me anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  Henry shrugged. “I used to think I should be in charge of everything. Not that I was bossy, I just wanted control so I could make sure things went the way I thought they should.”

  “A good trait for a pilot.”

  “Maybe. These days, I’ve lea
rned to sit back and let someone else take the lead.”

  “So maybe it’s not too late for you,” Nate suggested lightly, hoping to shrug off the conversation. He didn’t want to get into a discussion on his love life. To his amazement, no one at the Point seemed to know he and Alice had once been engaged. It was far better to keep it that way. Explanations would unquestionably be a messy dive into the past that neither of them wanted or needed. Not that he could predict her emotions. He’d obviously never been good at that. He’d loved her, and he’d truly believed she felt the same until she chose the most public way to embarrass him and reject him.

  “I think you should ask out one of the pretty girls around here. How about Alice? Virginia said you two might have already known each other.”

  The shiny brochures slid out of Nate’s hands and spread in a colorful wave on his office floor. What had Henry heard or seen that would make him say that? “Definitely not.”

  Henry didn’t comment, but he raised both eyebrows at Nate’s tone of finality. He knelt and helped Nate scoop up the glossy papers.

  “I’m working on some of the HTML for our company website,” Nate said as he stacked the pamphlets neatly in the box. Writing code—where he was in complete command of what the computer did—was a much safer choice than discussing his feelings with Henry. Or anyone.

  “I don’t know what that means, but it sounds important.”

  “I think so. When I took this job, I asked who was in charge of the website, and I got a vague answer, so I decided to take charge of it. If I make some improvements now and launch it this winter, it will make our web presence a lot stronger for next year’s season.”

  “I’m already looking forward to next summer,” Henry observed.

  Nate wondered what it would be like to stay here next year, and the next. What were Alice’s plans? Would she stay at Starlight Point, as well?

  When he was young and had asked her to marry him in an unexpected surge of emotions, he’d wanted them to grow old together. Whatever that looked like. His mother’s death when he was twelve robbed him of his chance to see his parents do just that. Would he accidentally end up by Alice’s side for life, working at Starlight Point?