Winter at Cedarwood Lodge

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Winter at Cedarwood Lodge Page 16

by Rebecca Raisin


  Covertly scrutinizing Isla, I did what I did best: I began planning a wedding. Imagining what color bouquet would suit her best (red and ginger bird of paradise flowers that would pop against her white dress, and complement her glorious red mane of hair), what song they’d choose for their first dance (‘Come Away with Me’ by Nora Jones). But I shook the mental preparation away, lest she see my eyes had glazed over and I was lost to the netherworld of wedding planning… Not to mention there’d been no actual proposal either. I was getting ahead of myself; it must’ve been the thought of all those brides about to descend. I had weddings on the brain and, seeing romance blossom before me, it was impossible not to plan their perfect happy ever after.

  Micah trundled in with the second Christmas tree. Though it was twice the size of the other one he had it over his shoulder like it weighed next to nothing, and I couldn’t help but laugh as Isla gave him the goggle-eyes. “Where would you like this fine specimen?”

  “The ballroom, please,” I said, pointing the way, almost giddy over so much wonderful Christmas preparation.

  When Amory came back with decorations, we bent to the box, pulling out lengths of tinsel and ornaments. Holding a delicate handmade porcelain angel in her hands Amory said, “I’m only helping if I get to put the angel on top.”

  I clucked my tongue as I weaved the tinsel over the tree. “You are such a child.”

  “You’re only saying that because you wanted to do it.”

  “True,” I laughed. “Lucky there’s two trees.”

  “Before you start bickering about who does what, can we discuss the plan for the expo?” Isla joked, managing to drag her gaze away from Micah. “I want to double-check I haven’t forgotten anything.”

  Amory hugged the angel tight and said, “Yes, let’s. Team-meeting time.”

  Isla had been in the throes of landscaping the overgrown and forgotten tennis courts, but as winter blew in, she had shelved it for another time. There were also plans for volleyball by the lake – we were going to freight in some soft white beach sand, but again, winter had halted any of those ideas. Due to the arctic weather, and snowfall, Isla had taken on a more fluid role, and had agreed to be the recreation manager for our brides and any guests who might book in over winter.

  “Let’s make coffee and chat,” I agreed as I turned on the dazzling twinkling lights and smiled at our barely dressed tree. There would be time for adding baubles and trinkets, but for now it sparkled with light and tinsel.

  We ambled to the kitchen, calling out for Micah to join us. It was such a comforting space with its big old potbelly stove sitting in the corner like a long-lost uncle. I set about making drinks while the trio sat at the table, chatting about the expo and the odd jobs that still needed to be done. We’d been more organized this time, as I’d wanted to avoid any of the big setbacks we’d experienced with the anniversary party we’d planned last month. It was such a relief to be only a week away with most of the bigger jobs accomplished. Everything we needed – from Christmas decorations, to tubs of flour and sugar, right down to the Jingle Bells doormat – had been ordered ahead of schedule and delivered already.

  I joined them and once again we tucked into Georges’s festive treats. He was testing them out for the expo and I knew snowman cake pops would be a huge drawcard. Not only did they look utterly festive, they tasted delicious too. Any future Christmas wedding would be remiss not to include them!

  “Right,” said Isla as she took a notebook from her pocket. “So, what activities are we focusing on for the expo, and any guests who book in, bearing in mind it’s freezing out?”

  “Sledding,” Amory piped up, cradling her coffee for warmth. “People love bundling up and heading outside and Walter from the hardware store gave the sleds we found in the storeroom the kiss of life.”

  Micah nodded. “They’re painted rocket-red and will fly down the slope! I would have killed for one of those when I was a kid – hey, I’d love to go on one now!”

  I grinned, but remembered that these great ideas all came with added admin. “Good idea, but I’d better check we’re insured for that activity before we advertise it.” I gulped. The paperwork never seemed to end and now I had to add liability insurance on top of the other costs. Safety was our first priority, but I still wanted our guests to have fun.

  Isla read off her list. “What about a snowman competition…”

  “I think snow-people is the correct term,” Amory admonished with a sardonic smile.

  Isla grinned and said in a faux-serious tone, “Snow-object building, in no particular shape, size, color or sexual orientation. And we will award the loser first place, just to be fair.”

  We all laughed and I was struck by how happy I was, here in the snug little kitchen, the snow falling outside, surrounded by friends – both old and new. I nodded for Isla to continue through her list of ideas. It was great she’d taken to the role of recreation manager of Cedarwood Lodge. She was full of initiative and we were lucky to have her.

  “In the evenings we can light the campfire, toast marshmallows and sing songs.” Isla held up a hand. “Before you call me lame, Clio expressly asked for old-school fun and frivolity and nothing screams that more than singing ‘Kumbaya’ and having melted, charred marshmallow scald the inside of your mouth. Right?”

  There were murmurs of agreement.

  “The ice skates we found in the basement were no good, but, again, Walter came to the party and found a supplier with some excess stock quite cheaply priced. We have to pick those up, and then we can offer skating on the lake. Plus we’ve got the indoor activities we’d planned: life drawing, charades, tango lessons… anything else?”

  “The bridal fashion show, that’s going to be spectacular, with bridal gowns, but also bridesmaids’ dresses, and mother-of-the-bride ensembles. Aunt Bessie has so many donut wedding cake ideas, I really think they’ll garner a lot of interest. There’s also the florist demonstrating different bouquet ideas, and centerpieces for the table. He mentioned some of the blooms were exotic, and quite dazzling in their color palettes.”

  “I can’t wait to see them.” Amory shot a finger up. “Oh, Georges is doing cooking classes. But why don’t we suggest a Christmas-themed class? Besides, I think we’ve eaten most of the Christmas cookies and can vouch for how good they are. What do you think, Clio?”

  “Yes! Georges won’t object to being surrounded by a bunch of giggling girls. We’ve got the library, the dance studio, the art room, and billiards in the games room – I think we’re covered. All we really need to do is wow them with what could be if they hire the lodge for their weddings. Show them that their guests would have a fantastic time – that they’d rave about attending the wedding of the year. Really paint our brides a picture of the uniqueness of the lodge and surroundings and what we can offer; anything is possible, remember. The key word is… yes. If they ask you something outrageous, yes, sure, we can do it! We can do anything for a price.” I gazed one by one into their fervent eyes and smiled. “Let’s hope we get some wedding bookings.” If we didn’t, it was a lot of money to outlay, but I knew the old adage was true: you had to spend money to make it.

  Isla beamed and scribbled some more notes onto her pad.

  The potbelly belched and we huddled closer. Once again it occurred to me by how lucky I was to be surrounded by people who wanted Cedarwood to succeed as much as I did. As we chomped through Georges’s Christmas cake pops, we made final plans for the expo and allocated jobs. I just hoped this bridal expo would go off without a hitch!

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Wake up! Wake up!” I dashed into Amory’s suite and shook her awake.

  “Oh my God, you witch,” she groaned and pulled a pillow across her face. Amory was a fan of late nights and long sleep-ins, and generally needed two extra-shot lattes before she could converse with any sort of sense, but I’d grown to love the early mornings at Cedarwood, and was forcibly making her wake up and see what she was missing out on.
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br />   Seeing the sunrise so spectacularly above the mountain range, brightening the murky winter dawns, was something else – a glorious way to start the day and, much as she complained, Amory was slowly coming round to the routine too. I blamed Kai for my sudden need to be at one with nature… It was all his fault, showing me the beauty of a new dawn. God, I missed his Zen face, his presence around the lodge.

  Today my aunt was joining us for breakfast to discuss her part in the expo and was waiting downstairs. Everyone in the baking business seemed to thrive on being up before the sun and my aunt was no different, arriving on our doorstep laden with boxes filled with tasty donut treats. The only problem was that Aunt Bessie wouldn’t let me open them until Amory had joined us. Damn it.

  As I glanced around Amory’s room, it looked like she’d been burgled, the room ransacked. Clothes were draped over every surface, makeup was scattered over the desk and the top of the chest of drawers, and strewn high heels were death traps waiting for her to trip over.

  “This room is a disgrace!” I picked up clothes, making a pile on the end of the bed. She had no respect for her things, mostly designer labels, and they were tossed on the floor like she thought nothing of them.

  “Yes, Mom.” She saluted with her eyes firmly closed. “I’ll change my wicked ways when I’m dead.”

  “I can’t actually be in here without tidying up. Maybe I’m more like my mom than I thought. Or maybe it’s just that you’re like a messy teenager and anyone would tidy lest they trip and fall out the window. Death by mess,” I joked. Again, this was where we differed. I liked things neat and orderly, and Amory was more chaotic. I lined up her heels in the cupboard and folded her clothes away as I waited for her to wake up a little more before I accosted her again. “You’ll thank me when you don’t wear odd shoes by mistake. Seriously, how can you find anything?” For someone so put together, she was a closet slob.

  “Listen, fun police, stop whining and tell me what time it is?” She rolled to her side, and finally opened her eyes.

  “Six-thirty. Time enough to trudge up the mountain and take in the sunrise…” I hid a smile, knowing there was no way I’d ever go all the way back up that mountain without Kai forcing me. I missed him, and his philosophy, even if it meant exercise was involved. And there was no way Amory would either unless she needed to get signal on her phone.

  “The only thing I climb is the corporate ladder, so get out, unless you have coffee!”

  I went to the bedside where I’d left a cup of steaming coffee, and brandished it to Her Majesty. She swiped it like I knew she would, and I laughed as she practically inhaled it in one gulp. “And… it’s your lucky day. Aunt Bessie is here, and with her are some truly delectable donuts, so if you hurry there may be a couple left. But only if you hurry.”

  “Please tell me she has those cookies-and-cream donuts?” Amory said as she ripped the covers back. I had taken Amory to Puft the first morning she was in Evergreen and ever since she’d been obsessed with the party-in-your-mouth morsels.

  “I can’t say what flavor, you’ll have to drag your sorry self downstairs.”

  With my aunt visiting so early to chat about work it brought forward the pre-event buzz; I was a little hyper with excitement. I raced back downstairs to the warmth of the kitchen where she sat cradling a cup of coffee and munching her way through an almond cronut, her latest venture, a croissant-donut hybrid that sold out as quickly as she could bake them.

  She flashed me a grin. “Did you convince her?”

  “I think you convinced her. When she heard the word ‘donut’ things suddenly changed, and the coffee definitely helped.”

  Aunt Bessie laughed, and yet her face didn’t wrinkle at all. Even at such an ungodly hour of the morning she was fully made up, her bleached-blonde hair set, and her body encased in her signature form-fitting ensemble. She was a breath of fresh air, and glamorous to boot.

  I plucked a cronut from the pile, and bit into the pillowy softness. Between mouthfuls I said, “You all set for the expo? Do you need a hand with anything?”

  “Nope, I’m all set. I’ve got my neighbor Miranda coming in to help me bake and a whole host of ideas for recreating those stuffy wedding cakes into delectable donut towers. Now, down to business. You know how glamorous dessert buffet tables can look? Well, I’m thinking of doing one of those. It’s going to look spectacular. From Boston cremes, to French cullers, candy-cane flavored, and gingerbread custard, I’ll have every base covered. Donuts can be gourmet, you know, and this is my chance to prove it.”

  “I know,” I said, hiding a smile at her suddenly solemn tone. My aunt took her donuts very seriously indeed, and I knew the idea of a donut buffet instead of a formal dessert would be tempting for our brides-to-be. Everyone wanted something different and donuts were making a comeback; better, bigger and bolder than ever in the foodie world. Especially the creative samples my aunt baked. They were more like art on a plate, or in some cases on a milkshake – where she stacked donuts on top, layered with whipped cream and custard, and candyfloss to finish. Using vibrant icing, it was a kaleidoscope of colors, flavors and textures. “Sounds like you have everything under control, Aunt Bessie.”

  The water pipes rattled upstairs, the usual accompaniment to Amory’s morning shower and a sign I had my aunt alone for a few more minutes, at least.

  I stood to refill our coffee cups and smiled. It was a comfort to have family around again. I’d missed it in New York. Mom hadn’t visited me there, and Aunt Bessie had only come once, claiming the crush of people made her nervous. The big city was a huge culture shock when you came from a town as small as Evergreen.

  Returning to my seat I reached out for her hand, “Thank you so much for helping out with the expo. I really appreciate all the time and effort you’ve had to put in. It means a lot to me.”

  Lifting a shoulder, Aunt Bessie squeezed my hand. “Well, of course… what’s family for?”

  Speaking of which… “Have you spoken to Mom lately?” I asked, hesitant to bring it up, but knowing I didn’t have a choice if I wanted some answers. Aunt Bessie read Mom’s moods better than anyone, and I knew they confided in one another.

  My aunt’s eyes shadowed. “Yeah, she told me you’ve been visiting. You’re a good girl for that, Clio. I know it’s not easy.”

  “I wish she’d respond to me. Talk to me, and not just because she has to.” I struggled to find the words. “I feel like, since coming home, she’s even further away from me. I don’t know how to bridge the gap.”

  Her face fell, and all at once she looked every inch her age, as if the constant worrying about Mom pulled her down. “I shouldn’t have forced her to come to Cedarwood to help out that day,” she said, shame coloring her cheeks pink. “I had no idea it would be that difficult for her after all this time. I honestly thought it would be some sort of closure for her. That she’d see how much you’ve done with this place, that it was different now. But obviously she could only see it as it was back then. And those ghosts, they haunt her.”

  “What’s with this running loop of secrecy about Cedarwood? Honestly, Aunt Bessie, I can’t be much help if I don’t know.” Aunt Bessie was usually as straightforward as they came, but in this, she was a trapdoor, refusing to budge.

  As usual the question was evaded. “She loves you, Clio, you know that, right?”

  I nodded bleakly. Mom loved me as much as a houseplant as far as I could tell. “She does, trust me, that’s why she’s scared.” Aunt Bessie slid her gaze away and dusted crumbs from the table into her palm.

  No matter how old I got, I still pined for that mother-daughter relationship, knowing it’d probably never come to be. Still, I had Aunt Bessie, who was a wonderful, vivacious woman and mother-by-proxy in times like this.

  Aunt Bessie played with the handle of her mug. “If only you knew her the way I do, the way I did. Some people are built differently, and a mistake can push them over the edge. She’s spent this whole time clawing her way back
up. There were times I didn’t think she’d get there. So, please be patient. Better we have her like this than not at all.”

  Shivers coursed through me. I knew exactly what Aunt Bessie meant, and that was my biggest fear. That one day the business of living would all get too much for Mom. “Can’t you just tell me, Aunt Bessie? What happened to her at Cedarwood? Maybe I can help.”

  She lifted her palms. “That’s for her to tell you, baby girl. It really is. I’d love nothing more than to explain it to you so you understand, but I promised her, just like you did about keeping the maze secret.”

  Part of me realized that they’d kept the secret for good reason, and unearthing it could send my mom toppling back down the rabbit hole, but I just couldn’t let it go. Who would I tell anyway? Surely they could trust me, of all people? It seemed half the town knew, so why not me? It hurt, not knowing.

  “Was Dad involved?”

  She shook her head. “No, honey, he wasn’t in her life at that point. But in my opinion I think he rescued her from herself, and when he died, well… it started over again.”

  I only had blurry recollections of the man, a big, ruddy-faced guy with an amiable smile who’d died when I was a child. I’d have given anything to remember him better, to have five more minutes with him. But I guess you couldn’t wish a person back just because you needed them. Aunt Bessie moved to hug me tight, as if letting me know I could always come to her. At least we had each other and, between us, could help Mom navigate the next part of her life. The part where I was in it.

  In a cloud of spicy-scented perfume, Amory entered the kitchen, her hair a tangle of wet curls. “Morning, again,” she threw me a faux-dark look. “Aunt Bessie!” she exclaimed, kissing her on the cheek before her gaze darted to the pile of donuts on the table.

  “Perhaps we can trudge up that mountain after all? Do a spot of midnight yoga?” she asked me sweetly.

 

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