Winter at Cedarwood Lodge

by Rebecca Raisin

  “How about I email it over?” That didn’t sound good. I’d hoped Tim’s boss wasn’t an indecisive type. Maybe it was just nerves on his part? Either way, we couldn’t mess around our suppliers by chopping and changing orders. They’d soon tire of us, no matter how much future business we promised them.

  “Email it now, Tim. And if we can’t return what we’ve already ordered, Vinnie will have to cover it. We’ll try and swap what we’ve sourced but I can’t promise anything.”

  “I know, and that’s fine. I’ll email the new menu and call you this afternoon.”

  “OK, thanks, Tim.”

  I hung up feeling wired and frazzled. I hadn’t met Vinnie in person, and going through a middleman always created conflict. As Vinnie was out of town it made sense for Tim to be the go-between, but not if Vinnie was going to change his mind all the time. My phone pinged with an email.

  “Go on, read it,” Amory said. “I bet he’s got something ridiculous written there and that’s why he wouldn’t say it on the phone.”

  I shook my head. “If it says Beluga caviar from the Caspian Sea, I’m quadrupling the price. We don’t have time for this.”

  “Do you think Vinnie’s a flake?” Amory asked, wrinkling her brow. What she meant was, someone who’d pull out of the party last-minute, with nothing paid, nothing promised, a time waster of the worst kind.

  “Maybe we should send a pre-party invoice?”

  “Let’s,” Amory agreed. “Just in case.” We’d been stung before at the agency in New York. I’d learned pretty quickly that, just because people had recognizable names, didn’t mean they were on the level. After a few mishaps where we’d been left sans client, we’d changed our practices and got a deposit upfront if they were a little skittish. No one liked paying ahead, celebs hated parting with their money (go figure), but it was insurance, not only for the agency but also for us keeping our jobs. Here at Cedarwood we definitely couldn’t afford to be left in the lurch.

  “Perhaps we make that a stipulation going forward, Amory?” I said. “While our clients so far haven’t been celebs, we also don’t want to foot the total bill if they’re a no-show.”

  I wasn’t used to worrying about the money side of things – in New York someone else had always done the tallying – but here I had to be in charge of it all, and we were learning on the run. Thank God Amory was here.

  “I’ll email Tim an invoice and all our terms now,” she said as her fingers flew over her iPad. A few minutes later she said, “Done. Right, so come on, read his email…”

  Cruz waggled his eyebrows, “Yeah, the suspense is killing me. Let me guess, black and gold finger food?”

  I read the email and laughed. “Oh my God, yes. He wants everything black and gold, including gold-covered strawberries. ‘Think edible glitter, think edible gold… the more glam the better!’” I quoted, rolling my eyes. “Golly, how on earth are we going to get this done?”

  “Allow me one second to face palm,” Amory said. “Right, that’s done. Now, this sounds like an Aunt Bessie job to me. A gold-plated dessert table sounds right up her alley.”

  I nodded at Amory. She was right. Aunt Bessie would love this challenge… and considering how involved Mom was with Puft, perhaps she could help out too?

  “Micah and I have to meet Ned from the council this morning. He’s inspected the chapel and hopefully he’s going to sign off on it today. So we can drive you into town to see Aunt Bessie,” Kai said.

  “I have to get these suppliers sorted out first,” I said, hoping they’d swap the elaborate candelabra we’d ordered for something Gatsby-ish instead… If they couldn’t, at least they were gold. Perhaps they’d do in a pinch.

  “I’ll go,” Isla offered, and I smiled at her, so grateful to have such a brilliant team around me. “I’ll explain to Aunt Bessie, and help her hunt online if she needs to find edible glitters… While I’m there I can look in the giftshop in town. I’m sure I saw some Gatsby-esque photo booth props, and some vintage posters that might work.”

  “What’s our motto, team? Always say yes!” I joked, the pressure fading a little as we divvied up the rest of the jobs.

  Cruz read the rest of the email about the menu updates and said, “So, do I cancel the seafood? It’s not exactly black or gold is it?” He wrinkled his brow like the new menu was insane. He’d learn. This was nothing compared to some things we’d catered for. We’d had lots of odd requests over the years, including a yellow-themed party – you haven’t catered for odd until every single morsel is yellow. Thank God for saffron! We’d managed to dye a lot of the food to suit.

  “You could do nori rolls? Seaweed is black, or you could encrust them in black sesame seeds…” The more I thought about it the more ideas sprang to mind. “We’ll wow them with the gold, glittery stuff. Trust me, they’ll love your menu.”

  He smirked. “I’ll go see what I can dig up, and get back to you with some ideas before I order any more stock in.”

  “Thanks, Cruz.” I liked how amenable he was to any spanner in the works. A lot of chefs I’d dealt with would have clutched their spatulas and spit out a torrent of abuse about indecisive clients, which only hindered the process. But not Cruz. After a quick moan he rolled with the punches and found their curiosities just that: curious. I hoped he’d never change.

  As everyone rushed off to do their jobs, Amory and I faced our laptops, ready to do battle with suppliers. I turned the coffee machine on again, thinking that if nothing else we could get through this with coffee – we always had in the past! And of course champagne to celebrate our successes…

  “Right, waiters, bar staff and kitchen hands – we can hire a crew from a skill-hire place which guarantees a certain number on the night, but we won’t get to meet them ahead of time, and we won’t know their level of expertise. At this late stage, though, we might have to go with it, and then see about getting some local staff to agree to ad-hoc work?” Amory said as we rifled through our to-do lists.

  I bit down on my lip, contemplating. Staff were always hard to find, especially in such a small town. “Yes, we don’t have time to ask around town for this party. But let’s advertise afterwards and find some reliable locals.”

  Amory made a note on her calendar. “Done. I’ll call Sylvia from the skill-hire place and let her know. Next on the list – party prep.”

  “OK, we’ve done a few Gatsby parties in the past so let’s roll with the same ideas… everything glittery, sparkly, we have to hire musicians, drape the chairs with clusters of pearls, we need feathers for vases, and signs that say, Prohibition stops here, dollface, that sort of thing.”

  “You’re actually getting excited, aren’t you?” Amory asked, and I recognized the same look in her eyes.

  “Gatsby parties are the best! Obviously we’ll have to order flapper dresses.”

  “And flapper headpieces.”

  “Clearly! It’s part of the job to look the part.” We grinned at each other. “OK, let’s get everything ticked off our list. First things first… I’ll see if we can exchange the things we’ve already ordered. Once that’s done our reward will be dress hunting online over lunch?”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Deal. Gone are the days when we wandered arm in arm down Fifth Avenue…”

  The change in our lives was so great it had the ability to take my breath away at times. “Are you happy here, Amory?” I asked, suddenly nervous that my crazy dream to run back to Cedarwood and start a new life had also pulled Amory from her high-flying corporate existence.

  Her eyes twinkled. “You know, never in a million years would I have thought I’d end up in a small town in New Hampshire by choice. But it’s the best thing I’ve done, I can feel it in my bones.” She stretched out and I noticed her slippers, jeans and big warm jumper and almost laughed – this was a far cry from the Amory who’d only ever worn six-inch heels. “I’ll always love New York, but being away from the hustle and bustle is so damn nice, I wonder why I didn’t do
it sooner. Working here is a whole different ballgame, and I just know we’re going to make it great.”

  I smiled, and felt happiness all the way down into my soul. “I’m pretty sure at the ripe old age of eighty our feet will thank us for the change. I see you’ve moved from stilettos to ballet flats.”

  “Why fight it?” she said. “I’ve swapped Fifth Avenue for Amazon, why not go all the way?”

  “Right? And look how far our dollars will go!”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Later that afternoon, we’d finished all the reordering; charming suppliers was one of Amory’s specialties so I had left that to her while I made progress with the rest of the list.

  “Just quickly,” I said, refilling my coffee. “Amidst the NYE party, we’ve also got to make a start on our February wedding. Can you touch base with our bride and get her RSVP list? Once that’s done, we’ll knuckle down on what else we need to do.”

  “Already done, darling,” Amory said, holding out her empty mug.

  “You’re a superstar.” That’s what I loved about Amory – in business she was always a step ahead. She truly loved her job and thrived on being busy.

  “Thank you, darling. It’s sweet of you to state the obvious.”

  “Humble too, so utterly humble.”

  “I try.”

  “Shall we set up a time to Skype our bride?”

  “Yes, I’ll email her and lock in time for this week, yeah?”

  “Perfect.” We may have been midway through planning a NYE party, but weddings normally needed more than a month’s notice and we needed to ensure our first Cedarwood nuptials went off without a hitch.

  After giving me an air kiss, Amory went to her office and I called the grocer. Difficult suppliers that they were, he wouldn’t budge and gave me a stern talking-to about food waste and being flighty. Holding in a scream, I reassured him we’d take what we’d ordered and sort out the new menu soon. Really, we’d have to find someone more accommodating in the future, but for now, he would have to do.

  Cruz rapped on the door and came in with a plate of sandwiches. He popped them on my desk and left as quickly as he’d come – I yelled out thanks. While I nibbled, I switched gears and scoured the internet for props for the party, like feather boas and moustaches on sticks that guests could use in the photo booth. Scotty smelled something delicious on offer and scampered in, paws up on my shins, little nose twitching. I snuck him some of the ham from my sandwich, and wondered briefly if we were all sneaking him food. He was irresistible and I now knew the meaning of the term ‘puppy-dog eyes’. Once he’d taken his fill and knew I was fresh out of scraps for him he toddled off, probably next door to Amory to repeat the process.

  My cellphone buzzed, and I checked the screen before answering. Mom. I smiled, hoping she was calling about all the gold and glitter desserts we’d ordered.

  “Mom, how are you?”

  “Clio, what have you done?” Her frosty tone froze me down to my bones. “You promised me you’d leave it alone, and now Isla comes into Puft and tells us all how she’s found a maze, and is going to restore it back to its former glory. You promised me, Clio.”

  Damn it. I hadn’t thought to tell Isla to keep it hushed up for now. To be honest, I hadn’t expected her to mention it to anyone, least of all my own mother.

  I took a steadying breath. “They don’t know anything about it, Mom. Isla stumbled on it and showed Micah, and they announced it to all of us on Christmas Eve. There was nothing I could do since they found it by pure accident. And I didn’t mention a word about it, I just changed the subject and hoped they’d forget.”

  Mom sighed, a world-weary, I-can’t-handle-this-any-more kind of sound. I was at a loss for words and was bone-weary about it all myself. Hiding someone else’s secret was exhausting, especially when I didn’t know what it was exactly.

  Mom’s delicate health concerned me, and I worried about what she’d do if she felt cornered, but surely it had to come out. It’s not as though the townsfolk didn’t know… They did, and they were keeping their lips pressed tight when questioned over it. And me, her own daughter, wasn’t trusted enough to confide in. It was mind-bending.

  “Mom, look. I know it’s difficult for you and I’m not trying to push you or anything, but don’t you think it’s time you told me? Cedarwood is getting busier by the day. We’ve got guests booked to stay in the lodge soon. We’ve got parties and weddings planned. I can’t keep it a secret for ever. People will stumble over it if they hike, and especially as Isla clears the grounds come spring. Don’t you think it’s better if I know what happened?” She didn’t say anything but her breathing was audibly shallow. With a soothing voice I tried a different tack. “Why don’t you come visit, and we’ll find the maze together?”

  “I never want to see it again as long as I live.” Her voice broke but I pushed on. At least she hadn’t hung up on me… not yet anyway. That had to be progress.

  “I know you don’t. But avoiding the situation isn’t working, is it? Lots of people have kept your secret, Mom, which says a lot about how people feel about you. It’s time to trust me. I am your daughter, and I do love you unconditionally.”

  The line went silent, and eventually she said so softly I could barely hear her, “I haven’t exactly been a mother to you.”

  I closed my eyes, wishing so hard that she’d just forgive herself for whatever it was. “I love you, Mom. You’ve done the best job you could. I’m home now and I want to work on our relationship, and that means we have to be honest with each other.”

  Once upon a time I couldn’t get out of town quick enough, bereft that my mom didn’t care one iota about me. I’d been ready for a new life and new friends who would eventually become my family. But I’d been young and naïve and hadn’t known that whatever had happened to Mom had shaped her future and made her turn in on herself. Now, I was ready to help her navigate whatever it was, and be there for her, without any recriminations on my part. It was the only way forward. Any grudges I’d held had evaporated a long time ago and all I cared about was that she got better.

  The faint sound of crying traveled the length of the line, and my heart just about tore in two. “Think about it, yeah, Mom? We can get through anything, me, you, and Aunt Bessie.”

  She cleared her throat, and managed to compose herself enough to say, “I’ll think about it, Clio. Will I see you for Friday night dinner?”

  “You sure will, I’m looking forward to it.” The hope in her voice told me to leave it for the time being. That she was happy to have dinner with me was enough. It was a step forward and not something I would ever take for granted.

  We hung up, and while it had been an emotional phone call, I felt like we’d finally gotten somewhere. Now I just had to tell Isla to leave the maze be for the time being; as thrilling as it would be to see it restored, we had to bide our time.

  While the sun sank behind the mountains, pitching the sky into shades of dense gray, I thought about love and loss, and what shaped our lives. Could my mom find peace? I hoped so. If I didn’t truly believe she could find peace, I wouldn’t have pushed her so. She’d been living as if she was paying a penance, obsessively cleaning, hyper alert, not interacting with people if she could avoid it. I couldn’t predict the future, but I hoped my good intentions wouldn’t backfire.

  Before I could get lost worrying, the phone rang again.

  “Cedarwood Lodge, Clio speaking.” A mumble of static greeted me.

  “Clio! It’s Georges. Sorry, the phone reception onboard is appalling.”

  From the choppy wind in the background, it sounded as though he was calling from above deck, not below. “Georges, how’s it going? I bet you’re staring into the beautiful blue of the Mediterranean!”

  He let out a deep belly chuckle. “Sort of. I’m bracing myself for another storm actually. With the pitching of the vessel, I’m quite nauseous all the time…”

  Poor Georges. Even though he’d left us in the lurch wh
en he’d run off to be an onboard chef for a celebrity’s cruise ship, I’d never be able to be angry at him – and look how well it had turned out! I was surprised, though, at the tone of his voice. He was quite plaintive, which was unusual for him. “You just have to develop your sea legs, Georges. All great adventures have their downsides, so I’m sure it’s only temporary,” I reassured him. “Soon, you’ll be screeching you’re the king of the world at the bow, or whatever that pointy front bit is called.”

  He laughed, but it was hollow. “Yes, yes, you’re probably right. I just have to get acclimatized. It’s just a matter of becoming one with the sea, the beast that it is.”

  “That’s the spirit, Georges!”

  “Did you find a new chef? I’m so sorry to have left you in such a bind, Clio. You know I could always come back… if you insisted.”

  Oh, Georges! I suddenly understood his phone call. “Well, we were lucky actually, Georges, and we managed to hire Cruz as a part-time chef until he figures out his new direction. I’m hoping, though, that we’ll be busy enough and give him enough creative freedom that he’ll stay on for good. I am sorry, Georges. But really, I just think you’re a little homesick. If you give it a chance, this will be the best thing you ever did.”

  I could empathize with Georges. I’d felt the same when I’d first arrived in New York. A country girl suddenly thrust into the big city, blinded by bright lights, fast talkers, and so much traffic. But each day had got a little better until I’d become one of those subway-catching, cosmopolitan-drinking locals, snatching every minute of the day to do things I’d never tried before. And it had been so worth it. Worth the nights I’d cried into my pillow, the mornings I’d been fuzzy with confusion, lonely among so many people. It was a learning curve, and when you’d done it once you could do it again, quicker, braver.

  “Thanks, Clio. I know you’re right. I do. It’s just so different, but that’s what I wanted, right? To be busy, to not spend every waking minute worrying about making enough money.”

  “Now you’ll have money to burn, Georges! And when you have your days off, think of the places you’ll see! Sailing around the world on someone else’s dime is nothing to sneeze at.”