Winter at Cedarwood Lodge

by Rebecca Raisin

  She laughed. “Oh my God! He’s trying to let you know, it’s OK to love him! GOD, WOMAN!”

  Was I that bad at reading his signals? Sure, I’d made the leap and kissed him a few times, it was impossible not to. But love was so complicated! Could I even call it love? This whole love scenario was so much easier when it was about someone else.

  “You see, he’s having some really huge issues with his family, and I don’t want him sort of using me as a pick-me-up and then realizing it was a mistake.”

  Just when I was hoping to change the subject Micah walked in wearing his perpetual half-smirk, carrying in a parcel that had been delivered. He glanced from me to Amory and tutted, plonking himself on the seat next to me.

  “Boy talk?” he said, earnestly.

  “She’s at it again,” Amory said.

  “Oh no you don’t. Don’t think you’re talking over me again, you two.”

  They just ignored me, and continued: “So she’s kissed him again, but he’s got some family problem – I mean who doesn’t these days, but for the sake of argument, let’s roll with it – and she seems to think he thinks she’s a nice soft landing pad on which to lick his wounds, but then once healed he’ll flit off to the never-never.”

  Micah nodded, and linked his fingers, taking his time to consider it all. “But she knows him, right? She knows he’s not exactly the love ‘em and leave ‘em type? I mean, we haven’t seen him act remotely like that, have we? He’s been almost gentlemanly with his favors, like something out of a period drama.”

  “Right? It’s amazing people like her manage to procreate. At this rate they might hold hands by 2020.”

  I held up a finger. “Aha. We’ve held hands, thank you very much.”

  They continued to ignore me and instead diagnosed my love life. “So what is her problem? Commitment-phobe?” Micah asked, wrinkling his brow.

  Amory shook her head. “Even though that’s the kind of vibe she gives out. Like, stay away, I am too busy for the likes of you. Here’s me, running my business, crooning to Bonnie Tyler when I’ve had too many glasses of red wine. Here’s me buying one-thousand-thread-count sheets online again. And so they stay away. Really, she’s scared of rejection. Would rather keep her steely heart in one piece even if it means the only love in her life is an eighties ballad and some freshly washed Egyptian cotton.”

  “Guys, seriously, you’re not Oprah, OK? Not even Dr Phil. You’re so far off base it’s not even funny.”

  Micah gave me the sweetest smile, but it was sad too, like he could see something I couldn’t.

  “What is it, Micah?”

  The day stilled. He and Amory exchanged a glance and she nodded. “I have to go help Cruz,” she air-kissed me. Micah, you talk some sense into her.”

  Softly, he said, “It’s your mom, Clio. You act this way because of your mom. You don’t let any man close in case they push you away, because you grew up lonely, with a mother who was absent almost all of the time, even when she was sitting right beside you.”

  It felt like I’d been punched. It was one thing for me to recognize that, but another for my best friends to notice. “It’s not because of that,” I said, thinking I’d come to terms with all of it a long time ago. With Mom and everything that had happened. Or… maybe I’d been trying to heal everything too quickly? Sure, she’d admitted she hadn’t been there for me and that had helped, but had I really dealt with everything that had happened? All the years of feeling hurt and lonely. Was it time for me to finally open my heart up to someone again? Someone who could smash it into little tiny pieces?

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  At a quarter to midnight, headphones in, Bonnie Tyler crooned to me as only she could. Tears stung my eyes, and I swatted at them angrily. What Micah and Amory said had shaken me up, but I knew they were speaking from a place of love. Still, it hurt. Sure, I could forgive my mom as an adult, but the memory of my childhood would always be there.

  There was a light tap on the door, and I took an ear jack out. “Yes?” I called, wondering if Amory had a sixth sense when it came to me weeping away to Bonnie Tyler.

  “Up for a little midnight yoga?” Kai whispered through the crack in the door.

  I froze. Firstly, I wasn’t climbing up a snow-covered mountain, I’d be swept away in a mini avalanche, I was sure of it. Second, I was a puffy-faced mess. No, I had to avoid him at all co…

  He opened the door and walked in. Damn it!

  Surveying me and the multitude of screwed-up tissues surrounding me, he frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  I took a shuddery breath, trying to formulate a lie. An eyelash malfunction had been used already so that was out. Work issues – no, he knew too much. In the end I settled for the truth.

  “Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person on the planet who doesn’t know her own mother.” I wanted to slap myself when I realized what I’d said, and to Kai of all people, whose birth mother had died before he’d even known about her. Wasn’t he suffering the very same fate, albeit in different circumstances? “Sorry, I mean…” I tailed off.

  “Don’t apologize.” With a smile, he walked over and settled on the bed beside me. “And why has that suddenly upset you tonight?”

  I tried not to sniffle and snort because, how unattractive was that, but it was impossible. Once I started the ‘woe is me’ game it was hard to stop. “Micah and Amory were giving me a kind of pep talk, and then they mentioned that the reason I don’t really ever put myself forward…” Urgh, how to say it without mentioning Kai’s name? “Put myself out there, you know, in life, is because I’m scared of getting rejected. Which stems from the way I grew up beside my mom, but not with my mom.”

  He put an arm around me and pulled me close; leaning into his warmth, I felt calmer. “And what do you think? Is that how you feel?”

  “I guess I stopped thinking about it, because why keep reliving it? Mom was Mom, and I knew from early on things would probably never change. The thing is, I didn’t think I’d internalized it, and put up barriers. But I guess I did and just pretended I hadn’t. And for Micah to recognize that in me, well…”

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t think your mom’s able to see much out of her peripheral. It’s like tunnel vision; she gets through each day the only way she knows how. But to me you come across like the girl who knows what she wants, but is careful and considered about it. Except maybe when you bought Cedarwood on a whim… but everything else you’ve told me about has been well thought out. I don’t think it’s necessarily a barrier, more a process of yours, and that’s OK. We all deal with things differently.”

  I closed my eyes and listened to the thrum of his heart. “I know you’re right, about Mom I mean. Being back, it’s made such a difference. I can see it now and I hope together we can move past it.”

  He stroked my arm softly as we both stared off into the darkness, contemplating it all. “What about you, Kai? Have things got any clearer for you?”

  Turning to face him I realized how close we were, almost coiled together like lovers, but somehow it felt like more than that. It felt deeper, as if Kai was someone I could trust and lean on, someone who’d listen and understand when I talked.

  “Things are better for me,” he said, sighing softly. “There’s a lot to be said for having space to think. Up the mountain, where it’s just me and the birds, I realize I’m just a tiny speck in this huge, wide world. You know? So yeah, my parents could have been honest with me from the get-go, but I can’t hate them for hiding it. I get it. They would have said something like, ‘We’ll tell him when he’s old enough to understand, when he’s ten,’ and then I’m suddenly ten and it’s not the right time, and then twelve and that’s not either, and before long it’s too late, and they sleep with that knowledge every night and it eats away at them, but they don’t know how to say it, how I’ll react. And so they try and forget.”

  “But then they did tell you.”

  “And look how I reacted. Which is exa
ctly why they didn’t tell me before.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “I’ve come to terms with it, more than I thought I would a few days ago anyway. Like when I hike, and I’m surrounded by the fog, the low-slung clouds, I think if the worst thing that ever happens to me is knowing this secret, then I’m doing OK.”

  “We humans do like to complicate things.” In Kai’s arms the world started to make sense. Big things, past hurts, loss and loneliness dimmed, and all I could feel was his particular kind of calm washing over me. I didn’t want to say anything to ruin the moment. I was happy just being, euphoric even, and grateful to the universe for showing me the kind of person I wanted to love. And that was Kai. I’d tell him, before he left, but not right now. Right now I wanted to enjoy the moment, this realization that I was ready to take a risk on love. Just the knowledge of that made me smile.

  Stars twinkled through the snow-dusted window as we lay there and I fell asleep in his arms.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Friday rolled around bright and clear with the snow glistening across the ground. After a long day at the lodge, I’d showered and changed and hotfooted it to Mom’s house. We worked quietly together assembling dinner and Aunt Bessie was joining us as a last-minute surprise. It was the perfect way to finish off a long week of planning, ordering, decorating and overall panicking that we could pull off the Gatsby party. As I chopped potatoes into rough cubes, certain even I couldn’t mess up mashing them, Mom was baking some chicken concoction of hers. I wasn’t sure chicken needed so long in the oven, but I kept my lips zipped. She was the one who had been taking lessons from Aunt Bessie, so what did I know?

  Aunt Bessie sashayed in, kissing our cheeks and unwinding her scarf as she went. “How are my two favorite people?” she said, her voice high with happiness.

  “Good, good,” we said. Mom and I had been working beside each other in perfect synchronization. There’d been no tension over Isla’s discovery of the maze, and no real mention of her phone call to me about it, and I was hoping this was a good omen for the evening. Maybe she would show me the maze herself, of her own free will.

  Aunt Bessie put some groceries in Mom’s fridge, including the obligatory box of donuts. She gave me an encouraging smile and double-checked the cubes I’d cut. Then she opened the oven and lifted the foil off Mom’s chicken dish. “Annabelle, what’s this?” she asked. “I thought you were doing the basil lemon chicken recipe I sent over?”

  Mom stared at her. “I am.”

  Aunt Bessie’s mouth opened and closed like a guppy. “Did you read the recipe?”

  Mom folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not completely hopeless, you know. Of course I read the recipe. What are you like?”

  With a dramatic sigh Aunt Bessie took the tray from the oven and ripped off the foil. “That recipe called for a whole chicken. Not teeny tiny pieces like this. You’ve gone and made cardboard out of it.”

  It was Mom’s turn to do the guppy impression. “Chicken is chicken.”

  Aunt Bessie hooted. “No, chicken isn’t chicken, Annabelle. Right, well, there’s nothing we can do with this, so let’s see what we can salvage out of the fridge.” She rummaged around, mumbling to herself before closing the fridge door.

  “OK, we’re going out. Get your coats. We’ll have burgers and beers at Shakin’ Shack and I don’t want to hear any excuses.”

  I waited a beat. Waited for Mom to refuse point-blank. We’d made it through Christmas, but even that had been a huge step for Mom. Going out to a restaurant… Instead, Mom took the tray from the bench and tipped the cardboard chicken into the bin. “Well, sure, but I can’t leave the kitchen like this,” Mom said.

  I suppressed a victorious smile. “We’ll clean up now, Mom, all of us, and then we’ll go.”

  There was no way Mom could leave the cottage if her kitchen was untidy – she’d never be able to relax, and this was a big step for her – so we all bustled around, tidying as quickly as we could in case she changed her mind. When Mom put the trash bag in the outdoor bin, Aunt Bessie whispered, “I didn’t think she’d say yes!”

  “When was the last time she went out to town for dinner?” I whispered, still surprised.

  “Ages ago.”

  I nodded, “OK, let’s make it a really fun night.”

  This was one gigantic Neil Armstrong kind of leap forward. We were getting closer to that sitcom mother and daughter vision I’d always had. I knew it could all crumble when she visited Cedarwood and set eyes on the maze again, but for tonight so far so good.

  Turning back to Aunt Bessie I wound my scarf around my neck. “How’s your Instagram account going?”

  Aunt Bessie’s eyes shone, and she grabbed her cell from her bag. “Oh, Clio, it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done. I borrowed one of those Social Media for Dummies books and worked out how to ramp up my followers. I’ve been getting orders from all over the country, but are you ready for the kicker?”

  “Yes.”

  “Helena from America Today re-Insta’d my death-by-chocolate donut tower. You know the one – thirty-six chocolate ganache-filled donuts stuck together with dark chocolate icing, and topped with shards of toffee and spun sugar.”

  “Yes, I know the one!” I exclaimed, amazed at how far Aunt Bessie had come in a matter of days.

  “Well, anyway, she got thousands of comments from her followers and I mean thousands, Clio.” Aunt Bessie’s cheeks pinked with happiness. “So she asked me to come on the show and do a baking demonstration. I was waiting until dinner to tell you and Annabelle all about it.”

  With a shaky hand Aunt Bessie held up her phone and showed me Helena’s re-Insta of the spectacular donut tower, and, sure enough, there were thousands of comments underneath the picture. “Oh my God, Aunt Bessie, that is incredible!”

  “I know, I know! I couldn’t believe it. Now, what do you think I should wear on the show? My tastes might be a little outlandish for primetime morning TV.” Her eyebrows pulled together.

  “I think you’re perfect the way you are, Aunt Bessie, especially for primetime TV. Why don’t you wear the cobalt-blue pant suit? Your scarlet lipstick goes perfectly with that color.”

  “OK,” she said, grinning. “I do love that suit.”

  “My aunt the celebrity.”

  Mom wandered back in so we turned away from each other and finished cleaning the rest of the kitchen in companionable silence.

  ***

  Later that night, I was back in the office, smiling like a loon. Not only had Mom had dinner out for the first time in years, but she’d agreed to visit Cedarwood and show me the maze. Then I’d returned home to a flurry of emails about potential spring accommodation bookings at the lodge. At the rate we were going I’d have to employ Cruz to cook full-time. And really, we needed someone to handle the guest activities too.

  Isla had been flitting from job to job as we needed her, but once spring had sprung she’d have her work cut out for her managing the expansive gardens alone.

  While I was adding another role to our list of job vacancies that needed filling, Amory came in carrying two cups of cocoa. “Can’t sleep?” I asked, noting it was almost midnight.

  She shook her head, handing me a mug. “We haven’t had two seconds to talk lately and I’m bursting with news. We rented the cottage! Oh, it’s the loveliest place just outside of Evergreen. It’s tiny but cozy, and I’m so looking forward to decorating it.”

  “That’s great news, Amory! I’ll miss you, even though I spend my life taking your empty coffee cups back into the kitchen,” I said, just as Scotty came barreling in looking for hugs. I’d miss him too, with his boundless energy and soft cuddles.

  “Oh, darling, that won’t change. I’ll still leave them scattered about during the day, so it will give you something to do at night.”

  “You’re a true friend.” I laughed and filled Amory in on dinner with Mom, and the latest bunch of emails and what was left to do for the party.

  “Amazing
, Clio! I’ve got a feeling things are going to be hectic over the summer.” She gave me a smile. “Oh, that reminds me. Tim called while you were out, and wants you to call him back.”

  I blew out a breath. “What now?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know, he didn’t say why, but the whole time we were looking at cottages all he did was talk about you.”

  “What did he say?”

  She sipped her cocoa. “Well, it was like a celebrity tour of town. This is where Clio and I used to buy tapes. This is where we kissed in the rain. This is where I asked her to the prom. It was sweet and all, but methinks the boy has not moved on.”

  I grimaced. “That’s a little awkward. He is so lovely, seriously, but I just don’t feel that connection. And I wonder whether he really does either, or whether he’s just remembering a time in our lives when things were simpler, you know? Like slipping into your oldest, most comfortable jeans…”

  The old lodge creaked and groaned like it was agreeing with me. “Yeah, and first love does leave a sort of fingerprint on your heart.”

  I raised a brow. “Wow, Amory, how poetic of you… she of the steely-heart, non-soppy love club.”

  “The what club?” she laughed, and shook her head. “Anyway, did I see Kai wander downstairs from your suite?”

  I scoffed. “As if you’d have seen anything; you would have been in the land of Zeds. Got spies have you?”

  “Of course! Cruz told me. So you admit it? What the hell is going on, darling? Some best friend you are, who keeps all the good stuff under lock and key!”

  I shrugged. “We just had one of those long, deep and meaningful conversations, putting the world to rights, that kind of thing, and then we fell asleep. It was nice.”

  She stared me down. “Nice? Just nice, darling?”

  “Nice.”

  “Nice is a lie-in after too much champagne, nice is breakfast in bed, nice is…”