Celebrations and Confetti At Cedarwood Lodge

by Rebecca Raisin

  “I’ve always loved Cedarwood Lodge. You know that. And I guess I hoped we’d be closer not just in distance…” my voice petered off.

  I wished so much we could be the sitcom mother and daughter type. The types who knew each other inside out and didn’t have to guess at moods, or whims. The ones who met for coffee and cake and a shopping expedition. Swapped novels we loved. But it would never happen. She was damaged somehow, and it was up to me to be there for her, no matter how hard it was. Right then, it was hard to accept this was my lot though.

  “Eat,” she said. “It’s going cold.” But she didn’t lift her fork again.

  Chapter Six

  “Micah!” I half screamed, half choked as I tried desperately to stop the water spurting from the kitchen faucet. “Micah!” He finally caught my eye, frowned, raced over and leap-frogged through the open window as I frantically threw my body in the way of the streaming water. “Shut the water off,” I shouted.

  Within a moment or two the water stopped and I sank to the floor with relief, soaked through and shivering, but not quite drowned – which I counted as a win. Micah’s quick footsteps sounded back through the hallway as he returned, towel in hand. “You’ll do anything for attention.”

  “Shut up!” I said, swatting at him and reaching for the towel. “Give me that!”

  As I began to wring myself out he offered me a hand up and we slipped and slid over the wet floor like we were roller-skating, before sinking into the safety of the kitchen chairs and falling about laughing.

  “It’s rusted through,” said Micah, who had managed to compose himself and was peering into the old spout. The kitchen was yet to be renovated, but must have been replaced sometime in the fifties. It was lovely as it stood, with duck egg blue cabinetry and aubergine bench tops with chrome molding but it was ratty around the edges, and needed to be updated with modern appliances. Still, it was like stepping back in time, and I half expected a 1950s apron-clad housewife to appear brandishing a tray of prawn cocktails and devilled eggs.

  Being budget conscious I hoped the rest of the plumbing was in better shape, already we’d had an issue with the main guest bathroom in the lobby and we’d be stretched for cash if we kept having nasty surprises like that. “Can you rig something up for now? When the new kitchen is installed we’ll have all new tapware so there’s no point getting anything fancy to replace it.”

  “We’ve got a bunch of odds and ends in the store room. I’ll see what we’ve got.”

  I surveyed him from the corner of my eye. Micah was always a ball of energy, the type of person would couldn’t sit still, but he was more jumpy than usual.

  “You go clean yourself up, I’ll deal with this.” He motioned to the wet floor.

  “Thanks Micah, but I can do it. Before you go, anything you want to discuss?” Smooth, Clio.

  He was practically itching to chat but being male tried to pretend otherwise, he forgot how well I could read him. He made a show of scratching his chin, and thinking hard about what I could possibly mean. “Nope. Can’t think of a single thing.”

  The cold air took my breath away, leaving a trail of goosebumps, but the damn man would confide in me, even if my lips went blue while I waited to go upstairs and change. I’d witnessed love at first sight and I wanted information!

  “Nope, you say? Well let me tell you what I observed and see if it rings any bells. L.O.V.E.” I sang the letters. It was in my nature to tease him. And we hadn’t had five minutes together alone for me to ask him outright.

  He guffawed. “You’re such a child.”

  “Shall I continue?” I sang a song about kissing.

  He held his hands up. “OK, OK. For the love of god, don’t sing. So Isla may have taken me by surprise, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

  I huffed and puffed in disbelief. “It was love at first sight, that’s what it was.” I hugged myself tight, imagining Micah as the hero of the first love affair at Cedarwood, and Isla his stunning heroine. Would I plan their wedding? Their baby shower? I couldn’t help it, it was inbuilt in me to think of every stage as an event to celebrate.

  “Love is too hard,” he said gruffly, wearing a dark expression, which I knew meant leave it alone.

  But he should have known me better than that. “Micah, no! Love isn’t too hard. Is this because of Ronnie?”

  He sighed and folded his arms. “It’s not because of Ronnie. Well… maybe in part,” he admitted with a shrug. “The split with Ronnie taught me love is totally unrealistic. Because you place all these expectations on one person – of course it’s destined to fail! Eventually that person won’t make you smile any more. They’ll be the cause of the tightness in your chest. The reason you can’t sleep at night.”

  I frowned, it was unlike Micah to talk so pessimistically. “What expectations? Love can be as simple or as difficult as you want it to be.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “There’s always expectations. The expectation you’ll follow them anywhere, you’ll forego your dreams for them, and then they just leave anyway, even though you sacrificed it all.”

  “So don’t have any expectations, and then you’ve got nothing to lose, right?”

  The kettle I’d been waiting for when the tap exploded suddenly screeched and I poured water into two cups, and motioned for him to sit at the trestle table. While he ruminated I added a log of wood to the cast-iron potbelly stove and stood with my back to it, warming my hands.

  His sighed and his mouth became a tight line. “I admit, it was nice to have that heady heart-thumping feeling about someone again.”

  My clothes shrunk against the heat, biting against my legs as they warmed. “So, that’s a good thing, Micah! What happened with Ronnie was obviously devastating but that doesn’t mean you can’t start over with someone new.”

  The way his eyes filled with pain was enough to make me regret bringing Ronnie into the conversation again.

  “I didn’t see it coming,” he rubbed at his face. “It blindsided me. And I want to avoid ever feeling that way again.”

  “What exactly happened?” The hurt on his face was evident.

  The whine of a chainsaw buzzed outside, Isla was trimming something back in a frenzy. “That’s the thing. She just drifted away like it was nothing. Like what we had was nothing.”

  “Really?”

  “She breezily announced that she was off to LA for a job interview. Los Angeles? A job interview? It was the first I’d heard of it. She’d been working at the bank forever, and I thought she loved it there.” He shook his head. “I offered to join her there after work, but she wanted to go alone. Suffice to say she never came back. Wound up working in some cocktail bar. Was it always that bad here?” he asked, confusion lining his face.

  “It wasn’t you, Micah. It was something in her.” In my heart of hearts, I knew Ronnie might’ve got itchy feet at some point, she was one of those people always looking for more. Still, I didn’t think she’d leave Micah.

  “There was no malice in it. In her mind we’d come to the end of the road. And what could I do? I couldn’t force her to love me. So I let her go, and wished her well. Told her I was here if she needed me.”

  A pah of surprise escaped me. “I don’t think many people would have been so understanding, Micah”

  With a half-smile he waved me away. “It hurt, no two ways about it. Without her I didn’t know who I was any more.”

  Admittedly, I felt a wave of anger towards Ronnie, despite Micah’s assurances it wasn’t her fault. “I’m annoyed that you gave up your own dreams of studying medicine to stay here like she wanted and then in the end she left anyway. You could have lived in New York near me, like we’d always planned.”

  “Doesn’t matter now. Truly, it doesn’t,” he said, seeing the concern on my face. “I made my choices, it’s not her fault. I enjoy what I do. So what, I fix things, instead of people?” Micah tried for that impish smile of his.

  “There’s still time, you know.” I cou
ld picture Micah wearing a white coat and making rounds of the local hospital, he’d be the type that patients felt comfortable around, with an impeccable bedside manner.

  He lifted a shoulder. “I’m OK, I’ve got Cedarwood now, right? But now can you see my point, about trusting someone again? I don’t want to be swept away, because I know when I fall in love, I fall hard, and where does that leave me? On a precipice, alone. Nope, I’ll never put myself in that position again.”

  Surely if he felt that frisson he should follow his heart? “So you haven’t had a relationship since Ronnie left?”

  “Nope. None. A casual date here and there which was more for companionship. Then when I’d resigned myself to being single forever, someone walks into my world, and I get this zap. I honestly thought I’d never feel that ever again after Ronnie.”

  “Micah, you can’t live like a hermit your whole life.”

  “I’m just happy to know my heart isn’t frozen solid. And I’m not a hermit – I go out, I see friends. I’m happy, truly.”

  I frowned. “Ronnie isn’t coming back, Micah. You don’t have to follow anyone to ends of the earth, you can set some boundaries…” I felt like an agony aunt doling out clichéd advice, but I didn’t know how else to make him see that love was always worth it.

  “I know she isn’t…” The buzz of the chainsaw mercifully ceased and Micah adjusted his voice accordingly. “And even if she did, I’d never contemplate reconciling. She’s shacked up with some guy in LA, and they’ve had a baby.” He paused at the mention of the baby. For as long as I can remember Micah talked of the family he’d have. “Anyway, I don’t want to make Isla uncomfortable. What if she doesn’t like me the same way? How awkward would that be? God, I sound like I’m back in high school.”

  I laughed. “You do. Anyway, all you have to do is ask her to go for coffee! It’s not like you’re asking her to marry you.” Even though I was mentally assessing color combinations for the wedding centerpieces…

  He grinned and color flooded his cheeks. “You said yourself not to mix business with pleasure.”

  I guffawed as the potbelly coughed and spluttered behind me. “Since when did you ever listen to me? What the hell would I know?”

  Outside, the symphony of work started in earnest, chainsaw, hammers, and a lawn mower. Isla must have roped in some extra hands to help.

  “Since always. You’ve steered me straight since we were kids.”

  With one last attempt I gave Micah a hard stare. “I’ve steered you straight, you say?” I didn’t wait for a response. “Then you have to listen to me – give the idea of love a chance, just entertain the idea and ask Isla for coffee.”

  “No, Clio. I’d hate to make her feel uncomfortable.”

  “Jeez, Micah, so much for steering you straight.” I lifted a palm in surrender.

  “Don’t you dare play match maker.”

  I pretended to be outraged. “Me? As if I have time to meddle with your nonexistent love life,” I lied.

  If Cupid needed a helping hand, and who better to do that than me?

  Chapter Seven

  With things somewhat under control at the lodge, I dressed warmly for town, and slipped into high heeled boots. I needed to collect some supplies and wanted to drop in on Imelda and Edgar for an impromptu meeting to firm up numbers, and show them some pictures of the ballroom renovation. It dawned on me that after their party it wouldn’t be long until I could start preparing for Christmas and the thought of decorating the lodge for festivities had me in paroxysms of delight. A winter wonderland wedding would be perfect, but I needed to show off the venue to attract brides. A wedding expo would be ideal, and I made notes about what I’d need to do in order to achieve it.

  Tying my scarf as I went, I found Kai in the ballroom, grinning up at the ceiling. “The electricians have just left. They’ve replaced the old insulation and fitted downlights so it’s not as gloomy with only the two chandeliers at each end of the room. What do you think?”

  I surveyed the new lighting. “It makes the space appear even bigger. The downlights were a good choice, Kai.” They sent out little stars of radiance which helped brighten the room. I’d been wary when it came to adding such modern features in the traditional ballroom, but they fit seamlessly.

  “Won’t be long until it’s finished and ready for the party. Mind if I hitch a ride to town with you, I need to meet with Walter at the hardware shop.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Let’s tell Micah to keep an eye on things.”

  We found Micah halfway up a ladder in the abandoned library. The room was the stuff of every bibliophile’s dream. Deep dark mahogany shelves recessed into all four walls. Ladders were still attached, which slid across like something from the 1800s. It was bereft of novels and I couldn’t wait to go book shopping and fill the room with old tomes whose perfume would scent the air. With a fire crackling, and the teapot steaming, I was sure we could host book clubs here. Author events. Writing retreats.

  “We’re going into town, Micah. Keep an ear out in case anyone needs a hand?”

  A fine layer of wood dust coated him, as he sanded back one of the water damaged shelves which had rippled and cracked. “Sure. But only if you bring me back a donut from Puft.”

  “Deal,” I said, grinning.

  When we parked in front of Puft, Kai jumped out, ear pressed against his phone. From what I could gather it was his boss, and there was a new job on the horizon once Cedarwood Lodge was finished. Soon he’d leave, and I wasn’t sure how I felt. I worried I’d be lost without his easy-going guidance.

  It was warmer in town without the cold gust of wind drifting off the surface of the lake.

  My aunt’s donut store was doing a roaring trade with tables out front full of lunchtime patrons. I pushed my face up against the glass and searched for her, but saw only faces behind the counter that I didn’t recognize. As I turned I tripped over the foot of a chair, and landed smack bang into the arms of someone walking the other way. We thumped foreheads, and tears stung my eyes. What was it about this place that made me so clumsy all of a sudden? High heels and Evergreen were a veritable death trap. An apology fell from my lips as I blinked hastily to correct my blurry vision. Just what I needed, a big black eye to greet potential clients.

  “I’m sorry, I’m such an…” Oh, god. The words froze on my tongue.

  “Clio?”

  I nodded dumbly as I stared into the deep hazel eyes of Timothy. The first person to ever break my heart – Matt Damon’s doppelgänger, with powerful shoulders that suggested time spent at the gym and a smile that would make many a woman melt.

  “Hey.” Smooth, Clio.

  In the filmy light of midday his lips twitched as he rubbed the soft spot above his eyebrow where we’d bumped heads. “I heard you were back in town. I’ve been meaning to come out to Cedarwood and say hi.”

  “You should.” I’d forgotten how modulated his voice was, every word measured and thoughtful. Maybe it was concussion, but his mouth, the way his lips twitched, held a whole host of memories for me; suddenly I was back in his parent’s basement with him, listening to pop music and stealing kisses. My turncoat gaze darted to his ring finger and found it bare.

  “How is it going at Cedarwood? From what I hear around town you’re not far away from being able to open.”

  I swallowed hard and willed my voice box to engage. “Yeah, it’s going well. No great disasters as yet. But there’s still time.” How could I say something so opposite to what I was thinking? You’re thirty-three, Clio, not thirteen. Somehow the gangly, brace-face teen had returned uninvited. I coughed and recovered, summoning a voice I used on my most famous clients, one that hid how starstruck I was.

  “How’s things with you, Timothy? I thought you’d be married and have about a hundred babies by now.” I left out the part about the picket fence, the cookie-baking wife, the fluffy dog called Buster…

  Just then a squeal rang out as two children ran from the bakery holding choco
late iced donuts. They laced their free hands around his legs. I knew it! I bet they had perfect manners too. And dabbed daintily at their mouths with napkins after they ate their bounty.

  He wobbled as they took hold. “Clio, I’d like you to meet Scarlett, and Zander. Haven’t quite made it to a hundred kids yet, but these two have the energy of fifty at least.” He held back laughter, and glanced down at them with such a fondness in his eyes that my heart just about stopped.

  I won’t lie. A part of me, that teeny tiny, hopeless romantic part of me died. He had made children! Actual living breathing little humans. And not just your standard cute ones, really gorgeous, impish ones.

  “Nice to meet you, Scarlett and Zander. You chose well, I happen to know those donuts are the best in the world.”

  Scarlett narrowed her eyes, held the donut tighter, and shot a glance up to her father for what, reassurance? Even the… what five, six-year-old, she could have been two, three, for all I knew, could see straight through me, like I was wearing a flashing sign: FRAUD, beware. If I hadn’t already felt like a member of the secret group Being Left Behind I did now.

  They could have been my children, if things had been different. And if they were, surely they wouldn’t clam up like that? Scarlett was so cold she was practically frosty, an icy wind radiated from her. And the little boy wasn’t much better. Zander glared at me and tugged his dad’s jean clad leg. Although maybe it was a stranger danger thing, and in that case, they were pretty perfect just as expected. Damn it.

  “Anyway,” I said, ignoring the death stares. “I must dash, I’ve got paint that needs… painting, and all sorts of very important jobs that need doing.” Kill me.

  Timothy gave me a slow, saucy smile that provoked a jelly-legged reaction. What was happening to me? Had I made a mistake leaving town to follow my dreams? For the briefest moment in time I pictured myself as a wife, a mother. I shook the insanity away before I lapsed into an existential crisis about lost loves, and sliding door scenarios. I pulled the strap of my bag tight, and went to step off the curb with an awkward backwards wave.