Winter at Cedarwood Lodge

by Rebecca Raisin

  I frowned. “And?” They’d already found photos of me, and – I noted – always the ones where my hair was out-of-control curly or I wore some unflattering expression.

  “I know it’s probably innocent, but you’re all over the groom!”

  I gasped. “Did they Photoshop it? I haven’t even…” Oh, God! “When I broke the news to him, his lip started to wobble – so I reached out to hug him! I was only comforting him! Who would’ve taken a photo of that precise moment? The vultures!”

  “I know, and then they sold it. Surprised it’s taken this long to make the papers, to be honest.”

  “Oh, Amory, this is a disaster! No one will ever trust me to host their weddings, even in deep, dark Evergreen.”

  She let out a long sigh. “I know. Maybe keep a low profile with your marketing for now. Don’t go shouting about yourself, stick to advertising just about Cedarwood… but maybe keep your name out of it.”

  “I cannot believe this. I’d give anything to turn back time.” I couldn’t even see a way to spin the story in my favor. As the saying went, any publicity is good publicity… but even for a wedding planner in the arms of someone else’s fiancé? Somehow I didn’t think so.

  “Don’t be blue,” Amory said, sensing my discomfort. “Sometimes I wish I could pack up and come and stay with you. I could hike or do Pilates in the stream at quarter to ten or something.”

  A giggle escaped me, picturing her doing just that. “You’d never make it up the bluff in those heels.”

  She laughed. “True, and I think I’d tumble forward if I wore flats. My body is used to be being artificially propped up six inches.”

  “I miss you.”

  “Don’t go getting all soppy on me, my mascara isn’t waterproof.”

  “Time for those eyelash extensions.”

  “I’ll Snapchat you later.”

  “I love it when you talk tech.”

  “That’s if you even get Wi-Fi out there in them hills.” She adopted a hillbilly accent.

  “I’ll start my dial-up as soon as the homing pigeon brings your message.”

  She laughed uproariously. “Now, about the party, what theme are you going for?”

  I sank back into the chair in the lobby as rain clouds gathered outside. “A riot of color. Imelda loves bright and pretty things so I want to make it an explosion of glamour – but bright and happy. Their son, Walter, gave me hundreds of pictures of them throughout their lives; half of them are black and white, so, with the backdrop of fuchsia and saffron and indigo, the photos will stand out. I’ve made a photo montage and coupled it with their favorite songs. Simple yet elegant. I want the focus to be on them and their family and friends, a celebration of two lives merged and what comes from that.”

  “That sounds amazing! I’ve got some frames here I could send.”

  “God no, then I’ll be arrested for stealing or something.”

  “Good point. Well, let me know if I can find anything around town and ship it over.”

  “Thanks, Amory. Ship yourself here, that’d be good.”

  “Be careful what you wish for.”

  ***

  I’d left Kai in one of the upper rooms of the lodge, poring over the fire inspection report with promises to meet later to discuss it. It was good to be back inside, and as I walked sedately down the stairs I couldn’t help but shiver at how close we had come to losing everything. Still, time marched invariably on and it was time to catch up with my old gang of friends.

  Micah honked the horn and I went outside, shrinking as the cold hit my skin.

  I figured I’d be subtle when I mentioned Isla. Take it slow and not scare him off. I jumped in the car and fastened my seatbelt. “So-o-o, anything you want to tell me?” Whoops. Perhaps subtle wasn’t in my vocabulary. Micah had been discharged from the hospital early that morning, but I’d insisted he take the rest of the week off, no matter how much he protested, so now was my chance to grill him.

  “Well, I’m glad you asked,” he said, grinning, “This morning I had waffles for breakfast, with strawberries and cream, and I hiked up the bluff to work the sugar out of my system, since I’m banned from returning to work, when I am perfectly fine. That what you wanted to know?”

  I slapped his arm playfully. “You know it isn’t! I was going to tell you Isla was walking around Cedarwood all moony-eyed and dazed; if I didn’t know better I’d say she was lovestruck but I won’t bore you with any details…” I made a show of gazing at my nails like they were fascinating while Micah’s driving became a little too erratic for my liking.

  “She was? What did she say?”

  I smiled. “Eyes on the road, Micah! She couldn’t form words. Just mumbled and wandered around in circles, pruning, chopping, shaping plants, even though her mind was clearly elsewhere.” Luckily for me, Isla worked at four times the speed of any normal person, so even in her love bubble she was still doing a great job.

  “Maybe she’s homesick?”

  “Lovesick, more like. You can give up the act, Micah. I saw you at the hospital.”

  A blush crept up his cheeks. “Why didn’t you say?”

  I laughed. “It was fun to watch you squirm.”

  Micah shook his head, and grinned. “It was certainly unexpected. I…” He grappled with what to say. “I was lying there thanking God Cedarwood didn’t burn down, and she walked in with coffee. I thought she’d come for the ambulance ride, to make sure I was OK, and then hightail it. But she stayed, and she kept giving me this look – like I was already gone. As if it was a much closer escape than it was. And the next minute she was kissing me. I didn’t fight it.”

  “Aww, love after a near-miss is always more powerful. Makes you realize there’s no time to waste. I really like her, Micah.” His driving slowed back to a normal pace, just slightly over the speed limit.

  “Me too,” he said, his voice soft. “But this morning she pulled away from me. Like she’s regretted acting on impulse or something.”

  Her past… maybe she was still scared about confiding in him? “It’s been a big week for everyone, Micah. Don’t read into it. There’s no way in the world that girl is not smitten with you. She was probably zapped from no sleep. I told her to take some mornings off, but, like everyone else, she refused. You’re a stubborn bunch.”

  “You’re the stubborn one!” He tapped the steering wheel and seemed to ponder it all. “So, you ready for this, the grand old high-school reunion?”

  “Sort of.” What if we’d all changed so much I didn’t know what to say? What if the conversation was stilted? “There’ll only be the old gang, right?”

  “Right. It’ll be fun. Besides, you can wow them with stories about your fast life in New York, and all the celebs you rubbed shoulders with. They’ll eat up every word.”

  “Yeah.” God, I hoped New York didn’t come into it. Imagine if they’d read stories about me? It didn’t bear thinking about.

  “Timothy’s divorced, you know?”

  “Oh look, we’re here,” I said, as Micah pulled into a car bay in front of Shakin’ Shack, the local bar.

  He didn’t move to get out, just gave me one of those beseeching looks of his.

  “And what’s that face for?” I asked.

  “I know there’s a reason you came home – and it wasn’t just to buy the lodge. I can tell by the way you purse your mouth when I mention New York. But I want you to know, you’re not taking a step back coming home. Or taking a leap back if you choose to date someone from your past.”

  “Firstly, there was something, yes, but it’s not the time or place to go into it. And secondly, I don’t think it’s a step back. I haven’t acted like that, have I?”

  He shrugged. Had I? Acted like some big-city upstart?

  “I don’t think I have, Micah. And Timothy could be married, divorced, gay or straight and it wouldn’t bother me one iota because I am not interested.”

  Micah put his palms up in surrender. “I was simply stating a fact. And
that’s a little hypocritical of you, since you were all set to play Cupid with me and Isla, were you not?”

  He had me there. Still. “So?” I said, petulantly.

  “So?”

  “So what?” I said.

  “So be that way. It’s your life.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine,” he said, crossing his arms.

  The ridiculousness of the conversation hit me, and I burst out laughing. “Oh God, we’ve regressed back to high school.”

  Micah unfolded his arms and groaned. “You were even more stubborn then. This argument would have continued for a few hours at least.”

  “What are we even arguing about anyway?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we’re both scared of plunging into new lives… in your twenties, nothing really matters, but in your thirties, you suddenly feel the need to weigh up every choice. You ever feel that way?”

  I sighed. “All the time. I thought I had life pretty well sorted out, but it turns out I didn’t. Makes me wonder if I know myself at all sometimes.”

  “You know what we need?”

  “What?”

  “Beer.”

  “And lots of it.”

  We ambled inside. The dimly lit bar was almost empty, and a part of me hoped they’d cancelled and I could go home and do midnight yoga, and forget about it all… but then Timothy stood and waved us over to a corner booth.

  “Hey,” Timothy said, giving me a chaste kiss. “Micah. Like the new do.” He pointed to Micah’s closely shaved hair. Poor Micah hadn’t had much choice after the fire had torched his locks.

  Micah ran a hand over the stubble. “Yeah, you know me, always leading the way in the grooming department. Bet I wander into town next week and see clones everywhere.” Everyone laughed and I hovered in Micah’s shadow, unsure of which persona to be. The girl they used to know, or the one I was now… whoever that was.

  Around the booth were a few old friends from our high-school days. And Timothy was sans children. Pasting on a confident smile, I sat beside Micah, who shuffled them along to make room.

  Sherri – a girl I had done music and drama with a million years ago – gave me a hug, reaching over Micah’s head to do it. At school she’d been the drama geek, and had gone on to make a few commercials, before deciding to concentrate on writing instead. I’d always liked her and I could tell she was that same quirky girl.

  “Clio, you look great! New York agreed with you.” She gave me an appraising once-over, and tutted. “I can’t see your shoes but I bet they’re fabulous.” I’d swapped the jeans for a dress and a blazer and some kitten heels, lest I fall on my face again.

  I laughed. “They’re baby heels. I seem to find every groove in the wood, or hole in the ground here. And it only seems to happen when I can fall into the arms of a stranger and totally embarrass myself.”

  “I don’t believe it for a second,” Sherri said. “When I heard you’d bought the old lodge, I was sure it was some kind of myth. I honestly thought that place would stay locked up for ever. What made you decide to buy it?”

  Running from a PR nightmare. “Oh, you know, I’ve always dreamed of being my own boss, doing parties for people my way. When it came up for sale after all these years, it seemed like a sign.”

  “Fate?”

  “Kismet?” Timothy interjected.

  I laughed. “Yes and yes.”

  Bennie waved across the table. He was another friend from high school, one of those guys who’d lived and breathed sports and hung out with me and Micah a lot back then. “Hey, Bennie. The years have been good to you as well.”

  He blushed. But really, he looked the same – they all did, except with some extra laugh lines, and fuller, more adult faces.

  “I can’t believe we’re all together again, as if no time has passed at all. What have you been up to?” he said.

  Everyone spoke at once and stopped and laughed. A silence filled the booth so Micah filled in the gaps. “Football jock Bennie went to college on a football scholarship, but busted up his knee, which put an end to his football career. Sad for Bennie, but great for us, because he came back to Evergreen and opened up a gym, which we frequent to pump iron and talk about what could have been. Sherri got married to said football jock, and they had twins, and then thought that was too easy so followed up with another little girl. This is their first night out since the baby was born.”

  “You got married?” My jaw fell open. Never in a million years would I have paired those two up, but I could see now how suited they were. They mirrored each other’s hand gestures, and laughed at the same time. I’m sure at school they wouldn’t have looked at each other twice; funny what growing up does to people.

  “We did.” Sherri giggled. “Once he stopped parading around like a beefcake I could see the appeal…”

  Bennie pretended to be offended. “Beefcake? What am I now? Strawberry shortcake?”

  Sherri puckered her lips and replied. “With a cherry on top.”

  Bennie grinned and took his wallet from a pocket, flipping open a compartment. “These are our girls. There’s the twins, Izzy and Dell, and the baby, Eva. As you can see they’ve got their mother’s good looks.”

  Sherri beamed.

  “They’re gorgeous,” I said, feeling a slight twinge in my lower gut. What on earth was that? A reminder from my biological clock? I ignored it, and studied the photo. They were sweet things with their mom’s jet-black hair, and big dark eyes.

  “I’m sorry about your football dreams, Bennie. But to think you’re parents now, wow, I bet you feel complete.” Where had that come from? Perhaps I was saying what they wanted to hear. But you could read it on them as surely as if it was tattooed how happy family life made them.

  Bennie shrugged. “Football seems a lifetime ago. We’re happy here. We are complete. Well… except for a little boy. Sherri isn’t keen on trying again, but who knows, after a few glasses of wine maybe I can convince her.” He gave her a look loaded with suggestion.

  “Clamp that mouth of yours closed.” She shook her head, and guzzled more wine. “He thinks you can put an order in, one little boy please, and once he’s delivered our baby-making days will be over… but what if we have another set of twins? Golly, sleep is so underrated when you don’t have kids.”

  “Sleep is for amateurs,” Bennie said. “We can sleep when we’re dead!”

  Sherri eye-rolled. “Easy for you to say, mister. Don’t think I don’t know you nap at the gym. Micah told me!”

  Bennie turned to at Micah. “You told her?”

  Micah lifted his hands in surrender. “It was an accident. It slipped out.”

  Sherri stared her husband down. “Sleep is for amateurs, right?”

  Bennie colored. “Right.” The jukebox in the back played one of our high-school faves, a pop ballad we used to croon to. I caught Timothy’s eye and smiled.

  Micah slapped Bennie on the back. “My gym fees just went up, didn’t they?”

  “Tenfold,” he laughed.

  We lapsed into silence as a waitress walked over. “Can I get you drinks?” We ordered a bottle of wine, and some beers. It felt good to fall back into old routines. Jesting, joking, making light of every little thing, Bennie making us cackle with kid-wrangling tales, and Sherri telling us the truth after his exaggerations. Most of my friends in Manhattan were childless, and planned to stay that way, and I wondered if they’d regret it later. Would I? It wasn’t too late, but with no relationship on the horizon, it didn’t seem like an option either. Their stories warmed me through, and part of me yearned for a family I didn’t have.

  More drinks were served and Timothy scooted around the table and sat beside me. “Tell us about the life you left behind…”

  There was something in the way he said it, or the way he arranged the words, that gave me pause. Did he suspect something, what with my hasty arrival in town?

  “Well…” I paused to work out which part to tell. “It truly is the city that never sle
eps. Everyone works hard and plays hard too. Ambition is what drives the place, that and cocktail hour.” I laughed, trying to appear relaxed and make light of it all. “It was fun, but not the kind of place you want to stay for ever.” But I had. How I’d wanted to stay. I’d loved the high drama of New York, and the speed with which lives were lived. But maybe Amory was right and, if I’d stayed, I would have been heading for burnout. My sleeping patterns had been interrupted by hosting parties that carried over to the next day, and there was always the worry about the next one. Making it perfect. Keeping clients happy. Would Cedarwood be the same? Somehow I doubted it. While I’d still have a lot to do and organize, the pace would be different, I was certain of that.

  “What about you?” I asked. “Your kids are like little rays of sunshine.” Sort of.

  He gave me that same smile, the one reserved only for me. Did he use that on his wife? Puppy love, I reminded myself. And a million years ago at that.

  “They’re going through a bit of a stage at the moment. Testing the boundaries and all that jazz. It’s not their fault,” he said, when I urged him on with a nod. “I’ve recently split with their mom, and it’s been a big adjustment for them. For all of us.”

  At the bar the tender wiped down the bench, and looked around at the all-but-empty tables with a sigh of resignation. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” I was dying to prod him for answers, and wondered why… was I simply curious? Or was it something more?

  “We tried to make it work for the kids’ sake but we were just too different in the end. We were so young when we got married, too young, really, and it was never quite right, but we stuck at it until it was obvious we were making each other miserable. Melanie left, and it’s been a trial.”

  Please, not that Melanie. “Melanie?”

  “Melanie Locket. You know, dancer Melanie? We got married a year or so after you left.”

  I stiffened. So he had got married a mere twelve months after we broke up? There I was calling it puppy love between us, and he’d gone and walked down the aisle with her? Micah had certainly kept that on the down low. And no wonder. Melanie had been my nemesis at school. She’d bullied me and the other gangly girls at school. The archetypal blonde-haired, blue-eyed cheerleader with an added evil streak. How could he have married her?