The Lodge on Holly Road

by Sheila Roberts

  James caught sight of his daughter thoughtfully eyeing the young man who was sitting over by the fireplace. Good. Brooke needed someone in her life. This man seemed pleasant enough. Odd that he was up here by himself.

  James was about to approve of her starting a conversation with the guy when she said to him, “I’m curious. Why were you asking if there’s someone up here with a Santa suit?”

  Oh, no. What was she up to?

  The other women all turned to eavesdrop and the young man’s cheeks became red. “I was just wondering.”

  “Is there some special reason you were wondering?” Brooke persisted.

  “Honey, I’m sure he doesn’t want to discuss that with everyone here,” James said, now hoping to end the conversation.

  The guy’s cheeks were still red but he quickly recovered and, with the besotted smile of a man in love, announced, “My girlfriend’s coming up tomorrow. I’m going to propose at dinner.”

  This was met with female sighs and murmurs of “How sweet.”

  Oh, boy. James had enough years of experience under his belt to know where this was going.

  Sure enough. “I was hoping I could get Santa to give her the ring.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Brooke said enthusiastically. Then she looked pointedly at James.

  He wanted a break from his alter ego. No way was he donning that red suit again, not even for young love. “Well, son, she might be just as happy getting the ring someplace more private.”

  The guy’s face fell. “I guess. I just thought it would be...you know, special. I want to make this as memorable as possible.”

  “That would’ve been memorable,” said the plump older lady who’d introduced herself as Vera.

  “These days you have to make a big deal out of proposing,” said Dylan, who wasn’t even dating anyone at the moment.

  My son, the romance expert.

  But James kept his mouth firmly shut and the subject was dropped. The Williams family went to the lower level, which housed a workout room, a Ping-Pong table and a small indoor swimming pool, and the older ladies helped themselves to more cookies. The other guests began to make their way to their rooms.

  “Daddy,” Brooke urged in a low voice as the young man started to leave.

  “Brooke, no,” he said firmly. “Santa’s taking a break.”

  “But think how special it would be for them,” she pleaded. “You could really make their Christmas.”

  He didn’t want to make anyone’s Christmas. He just wanted to get through his. “If I showed up as Santa to deliver that ring, the children would expect something.” Like a dog.

  “We could find something for them,” Brooke said. “Come on, Daddy. Your suit’s here. Why waste it?”

  “Dylan, how about you put on the suit?” he tried.

  His son looked at him as if James had asked him to strip naked and run around the lodge with Christmas ornaments hanging from his ears. “Oh, no. That’s not my thing.”

  Well, it wasn’t James’s thing, either. Not at the moment, anyway.

  “Daddy, just for a few minutes. Think what a wonderful memory you’d be giving that couple.”

  He sighed heavily. Brooke would keep after him until he gave in. Might as well do it now. And as she said, it was only a few minutes of forcing out some ho-ho-hos and scattering around a few presents. Just one more time in the old suit, and then he could pack it in. “Okay, I’ll go talk to him.”

  She beamed at him as if he were a saint. “Daddy, you’re the best.”

  He was far from that, but he never liked to disappoint his daughter. Anyway, he knew what a big deal it was to pop the question.

  He remembered how much effort he’d put into proposing to Faith way back when. He’d taken her for a drive around the city to look at Christmas lights and had brought along special cupcakes from their favorite local bakery. He’d nestled the ring in the frosting of her cupcake. Of course, he’d gotten frosting all over the ring but Faith hadn’t cared. She’d been thrilled and touched by his creativity. In fact, she’d bragged about it to all her friends.

  Every man wanted his woman to brag about him. So, okay, he’d give this one bragging rights. James caught up with him at the foot of the staircase. “So, young man, you need a special delivery for that engagement ring?”

  The guy looked at him as though James was about to hand him the winning Lotto ticket. “Yeah.”

  “What’s your name, son?”

  “John Truman.”

  James held out his hand and they shook. “I’m James Claussen, and I’ve got a Santa suit.”

  “Yeah?” John said hopefully.

  “Slip me the ring before dinner tomorrow and I’ll make your delivery for you.”

  John Truman pumped his hand hard enough to separate his arm from his shoulder. “Oh, man, thanks. This is gonna be awesome.”

  The young man’s optimism infused James with a little of that Christmas spirit he’d been missing and he found himself smiling. Okay, for true love Santa could pull out the stops.

  “Are you going to do it?” Brooke asked when he rejoined her and Dylan.

  “Yes,” James said, feigning reluctance. It wouldn’t do to let his daughter think she’d won such an easy victory. A man had his pride, after all.

  “I’m glad,” she said. “Imagine how you’ll make their Christmas. Of course, now we really need to do something for the other people, too.”

  “I don’t see why,” Dylan muttered.

  “You can’t have Santa show up when there are children present and not have gifts for them. They’d be so disappointed. And the adults will want to get in on the fun, too. I bet those two older ladies would love some fancy soap.”

  Dylan looked suspiciously at his sister. “Does this mean we’re gonna waste the whole day tomorrow shopping?”

  “Don’t worry. We’re here through Christmas. There’ll still be time for skiing,” she assured him.

  “Good,” Dylan said with a nod, “’cause the guys don’t want to be stuck in a bunch of shops all day. Right, Dad?”

  His son enjoyed being active, and James didn’t want to disappoint either him or his daughter. “I’m sure we can work it all in.”

  Brooke seconded that. “Of course we can,” she said. “How hard will it be to pick up a few presents?”

  A few? Had she seen the size of this lodge? There were probably people staying here who hadn’t even been in the lobby for the concert.

  But James kept his mouth shut. Thanks to his pension from Boeing and some careful investments, he had the money and this was the time of year to spend it, making people happy.

  “I’ll get a list of the guests tomorrow morning,” Brooke said.

  “I’ll go with you only if you don’t spend hours picking stuff out,” Dylan told her.

  She gave him a look that no doubt made her kindergarteners shake in their shoes. “I can be efficient.”

  That she could.

  “Okay,” Dylan said, in a voice that dared her to be anything but. “Come on, let’s go check out that Ping-Pong table downstairs. Whoever loses to Dad has to pay for lunch tomorrow.”

  “That means we’ll be splitting the bill,” Brooke said.

  James smiled. She was right about that. Their old man could still play the game.

  But not as long as he once could. After an hour James was pooped and ready to go back to his room, stretch out on the bed and see what he could find on TV. “You kids go along and have fun. I’ll catch up with you in the morning.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Brooke, who seemed determined not to leave his side for a moment.

  “I’m sure,” he said. “I bet there’s some hip nightspot just waiting for you two.”

  “I heard Zelda’s restaurant has a gr
eat bar,” Dylan said to his sister. “Let’s go.”

  “Have fun,” James said, and sent them on their way. The night was still young and they deserved to enjoy themselves.

  When the kids were gone, he flopped onto his bed with the remote control and began to channel surf. There really wasn’t much on. Reruns of old TV shows he couldn’t less about, a sappy movie, the kind Faith used to love.

  Their favorite thing to do on a Friday night had been to snuggle on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn and watch some classic love story. As far as James was concerned, nothing could match their own love story.

  He hadn’t found her until he was in his midthirties. He’d pretty much given up on meeting his perfect woman. “There’s no such thing,” his mother kept telling him. “You wait too long and you won’t find anyone.”

  But his mom had been wrong. He’d gone to Children’s Hospital to visit a friend’s daughter who was struggling through chemo. It was the first time he’d ever donned the Santa suit, but seeing the girl’s grin when he entered her room had hooked him on playing Santa. He’d been leaving the room, ho-ho-ho-ing as he went, and had almost mowed down a cute little nurse in the process. That nurse had been Faith. He’d gotten her number and called her the next day, and they’d made a date to go see It’s a Wonderful Life, which was showing at a theater in Seattle’s University District.

  “I love stories with happy endings,” she’d said, teary-eyed, and he’d known their story was going to have a happy ending, too.

  It had until she got sick.

  He changed channels quickly. Nothing appealed to him. Neither did sitting in his room alone.

  He put his shoes back on and wandered down to the lobby. No one was at the reception desk and he hesitated to ring the bell. What excuse could he give other than that he was lonely and TV was a poor substitute for a wife? He didn’t want to look pathetic.

  He was about to go back up the stairs when he remembered Brooke talking about getting a list of the people staying at the lodge. He could do that. It would also give him an excuse to talk to Olivia. Not that he wanted to replace Faith. No one could. But he needed... Well, besides the obvious, he needed interaction with someone his own age, someone who knew what you were talking about when you mentioned Lesley Gore or the Turtles.

  Still he hesitated. Maybe Olivia Wallace was busy. Maybe he should go back to his room and do some more channel surfing.

  Oh, what the heck. He rang the bell on the counter.

  A moment later the door marked Private opened and out she stepped.

  “Sorry to bother you,” he said, although the smile on her face and the pink on her cheeks told him she wasn’t.

  “You’re not bothering me in the least. What can I do for you?”

  “I was hoping you could help me out with a list of your guests.” She looked uncomfortable and he hurried on. “I don’t need a lot of details, just sort of a shopping list. The reason I’m asking is because I’ve been drafted to play Santa at dinner tomorrow night and deliver an engagement ring for John Truman.”

  She smiled at him in delight. “Oh, how lovely!”

  “Well, my daughter and I thought that since Santa’s making an appearance he should have gifts for the other guests, as well.”

  “Oh, my,” she said. “That’s a bit of an outlay.”

  “We’re not talking expensive, just some token presents to open. And a few things for the kiddos.”

  “That’s terribly nice of you.”

  “’Tis the season.” And even if he wasn’t exactly in a jolly mood, it didn’t mean he couldn’t take a few minutes to put a smile on other people’s faces. “Between you and me, I think that young mother and her children could use some extra pampering.”

  “Oh, you’re so right,” she said, “and I’m sure that for Santa we can come up with some sort of list that won’t compromise our guests’ privacy.”

  Feminine laughter drifted out from that door marked Private. “You have company,” James said. “I can get it in the morning.”

  She looked over her shoulder and then back at him, as if trying to come to some sort of conclusion. “I do have some friends here, but they’ll be leaving soon. Could I call your room when they’re gone? Perhaps you’d enjoy some peppermint schnapps in the lobby.”

  Perhaps he would. “Sure.”

  She smiled and nodded and then went back to her friends. And James returned to his room, whistling as he climbed the stairs.

  * * *

  “I could not do what you do,” Dot said when Olivia rejoined them. “You never have a minute to yourself.”

  Oh, yes, she did. Sometimes more than she wanted. “I don’t mind.”

  “Was it someone with a complaint?” Dot asked. “If so, just point us to him. We’ll stab the sucker with a holly bough.”

  “Nothing like that,” Olivia said, and proceeded to tell them about her resident Santa.

  “He and his family seem awfully nice,” Muriel said.

  Dot raised a gray eyebrow at Olivia. “And you say he’s a widower?”

  Was it suddenly warm in here? “Yes.”

  “Well, well,” Dot said. “Looks like a merry Christmas for Olivia.”

  “He’s just a guest,” Olivia said firmly.

  But Dot persisted. “He sounds like a catch to me. If you don’t want him, send him my way.”

  “This from the woman who, only a little while ago, was saying what a hassle it is to train a husband?” Pat teased.

  “Who said anything about a husband?” Dot retorted. “I might be in the market for a boy toy.”

  “I think James has too much principle to be a boy toy,” Olivia said. “In fact, I wonder if he’s the kind of man who had that one great love and won’t allow himself another.”

  “Unless you can convince him it’s not a bad thing to go around a second time,” Dot said. “God knows my second time was better than the first.”

  Going around a second time? What would that be like? Olivia was more than ready to find out.

  * * *

  James practically dived for the phone when it rang and said an eager hello.

  “James? It’s Olivia. I have that list if you’re still up for meeting.”

  “Sure,” he said. “I’ll be right down.”

  He got to the front lobby to find it deserted except for their hostess. She was seated in one of the armchairs facing the fireplace, where a cozy fire still crackled. On the coffee table sat a sheet of paper, as well as two small liqueur glasses and a bottle of peppermint schnapps.

  Peppermint schnapps, a charming lodge, a fire in the fireplace—Faith would have loved this, James thought in a moment of melancholy, and sadness began to pull a dark curtain around him.

  But then Olivia smiled at him and the curtain parted just a little. He smiled back. “Thanks for going along with this.”

  “Our guests are going to love it,” she said. She was still wearing the Christmas red sweater and the dark slacks she’d worn earlier but he noticed that she’d added some sparkly red earrings to her outfit and he caught a whiff of perfume that reminded him of his wife’s rose garden in summer.

  “I sure hadn’t planned on putting that suit on again,” he said as he settled into the chair next to hers.

  “Does it get old?” she asked, handing him a little glass of schnapps.

  “Only lately. I haven’t been in the mood much.” Feeling briefly disloyal, he took a sip. He shouldn’t be here drinking peppermint schnapps with some other woman. What was he thinking?

  A conversation with his wife came back vividly. Faith had taken his hand one afternoon when it was just the two of them, her in bed, him sitting beside her on a chair, and said, “James, you have to promise me that you’ll live your life after I’m gone.”

  “I won�
�t have a life after you’re gone,” he’d said miserably.

  “Yes, you will. Life goes on. Mine will go on, you know that. But not in this body and not with you.”

  Not with you. That was the problem. Living without Faith was no life at all. “My wife was sick for a long time. Maybe I should’ve been prepared to lose her, but...” How did a person prepare for something like that? “Every morning I wake up and ask myself, ‘Why get up?’” he confessed to Olivia. Great. Here he was, baring his soul to someone he’d just met. He downed the last of the schnapps in one gulp.

  “I felt that way,” Olivia said. “It was spring when I lost George. I’d hear the birds singing and want to shoot them. And I love birds.” She sighed and picked up the bottle of schnapps, raised it inquiringly.

  James held out his glass and she refilled it. Down went another shot. Now his sinuses were entirely cleared. If only this stuff could burn the pain out of his heart.

  “Of course, I had my sons,” Olivia continued. “And that gave me something to live for.”

  James nodded.

  “And I have friends who helped get me through.”

  “I think you women have us men beat there,” James said. Oh, he had his fishing buddies, but they never sat around and talked about their feelings. Other than some awkward moments at Faith’s funeral, they preferred to steer away from unsettling emotional scenes. And he didn’t blame them. He was the same way.

  “Well, it’s important to have girlfriends you can talk to,” she said. “But sometimes it’s even better to talk to someone with a voice lower than yours,” she added, and this time when she smiled he noticed that she had dimples.

  “You’re a good woman, Olivia,” he said.

  That made her blush. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” Now her schnapps had disappeared and he picked up the bottle and refilled both their glasses.

  “Thank you,” she said, and hiccuped.

  Then she giggled and James chuckled and the ache in his chest subsided. Coming up here to Icicle Falls had been an inspired idea. What a smart daughter he had.

  * * *

  The bar at Zelda’s was a holiday beehive, humming with Christmas cheer and rampant hormones. It was obviously the place to be in this town, since it was packed. Brooke and Dylan had snagged the last available table and yet people still were coming in, a parade of the town’s young and beautiful, the men in jeans and T-shirts, the women in clingy dresses or jeans paired with pretty tops and lots of bling. Some had come in groups but most were paired up. Paired up or not, everyone knew everyone else. People stopped by tables to chat, waved at friends. Men sauntered over to tables where groups of girlfriends sat and pulled up chairs.