Christmas at Grey Sage

by Phyllis Clark Nichols

  “Oh, yes. Very.”

  “Not so funny hitting your funny bone like that.” Silas continued squeezing and examining her arm.

  “Oh, no. Just one level funnier than you. Ouch!”

  “You have the ulnar nerve that runs along the inside of your arm right about here,” Silas explained. “When you bumped your arm, that nerve bumped the humerus.”

  “Don’t get sassy with me, Silas Thornhill. Nothing humorous about this.”

  Silas chuckled. “No, Lily. The humerus is this long bone that runs through your upper arm to your shoulder. You’ve bruised this area. I don’t think it’s cracked or broken.” He reached for the same bottle of pills. “Here, take a couple of these when you go to bed, and I’ll get you an ice pack. We always keep a couple in the freezer. Twenty minutes with the ice pack tonight, and I’ll check it tomorrow morning.”

  Lily softened. “Thanks, Silas. Thanks for checking me, but mostly thanks for allowing us to return to Grey Sage tonight. After today, we all needed a bit of comforting, and Grey Sage does provide warmth and comfort. And where else can you get real hot chocolate with a decadent dash of Kahlúa?”

  She paused and pulled down her sweater sleeve. “Maude told me about your cruise plans. I’m sorry. Seems we’ve all had a drastic change in plans today, but I promise to get this party out of your house as soon as the weather lets up.”

  “Glad you’re here, Lily, and your rolling Christmas party too. Tomorrow will be a better day.”

  They returned to the gathering room.

  Most of the guests, Maude noted, were seated in the same seats they’d claimed upon their arrival Tuesday evening. Beatrice stood in front of the fireplace as though she were in her tutu at center stage in St. Petersburg. Her rendition of the day’s events was dramatic.

  “I’m so glad I wasn’t dead. I was asleep, but then, it started—the spinning and the spinning—like a pirouette without enough rosin on my pointe shoes to keep me from sliding and no time or place for spotting to keep from getting dizzy. Oh, it was all so horrendous. I really thought I was dead, but Henry saved me. Then there was a loud thud, and we stopped.”

  When Beatrice breathed, Lily jumped in. “Oh, but you were safe, and now you’ll have such an incredible story to tell your daughter. If the weather lifts, you’ll be joining her tomorrow evening at the Broadmoor.”

  Beatrice perked her head. “Yes, and when we get to the Broadmoor, Dorothy will listen until I have finished my whole story. She will listen without interruption, Lily. She has more polite manners than you. What made you think that was the end of my story? It wasn’t.”

  A soft murmur of laughter went around the room. No one else dared to speak to Lily like that.

  Lily rolled her whistle between her fingers. “Oh, pardon me, Beatrice. You were nearly breathless, and when you finally inhaled, I thought you were done.”

  Beatrice looked at Lily. “Well, I wasn’t.” She tottered on her little bird legs and turned to the others. “When the van stopped spinning, Kevin there . . .” She pointed to Kent.

  To avoid any rebuke resembling the one Lily had gotten, no one bothered to correct her. At least she’d remembered the first two letters of his name.

  “Kevin stood straight up and took charge. No one questioned him except Lily one time. But he told her and shut her up. He was just like a hero in a movie, like a general leading his troops. Why he was just the pluckiest young man I’ve ever seen! We should give Kevin a huge round of applause.”

  The guests obliged and cheered for Kent. Lily sat down on the sofa next to Reba.

  Lita was seated next to Maude. At the sound of the word pluckiest, she squeezed Maude’s hand and muffled her laugh, then leaned over and whispered, “Plucky, again? Never heard the word, and now twice in the same day. Suppose it means something?”

  “Yes, it means you learned a new word, and that Silas and Bea have been working the same crossword puzzles.”

  Lily stood up. “Are you finished, Beatrice?”

  “For now.”

  “With your permission, then . . . We’ll have breakfast at eight in the morning, people. We’ll leave as soon as Gordy gets us another vehicle and we get some sense of clearance on the weather. Please have your bags packed. Could be on a moment’s notice. I will stay in touch with Gordy about our departure.” She turned to where Maude was seated. “Thank you again for opening the doors of Grey Sage to us and for making this Unlikely Christmas Party—on broken wheels, I might add—feel welcome again.”

  Maude nodded and smiled and tried not to think of what the weather might have to say about tomorrow’s plans.

  Friday, December 23

  Maude woke, not because the fire had gone out in the kiva or because of the howling wolf outside or the hooting owl that had recently taken up residence in the pine tree next to the window, but because she had something on her mind. It was three twenty. She eased out of bed, put on her fleece robe, and grabbed her flashlight from next to the bedside table. She then walked through the halls to Lily’s room and tapped on the door.

  No answer.

  She tapped again. Still no answer.

  She used her master key and turned the lock and opened the door.

  “Lily,” she whispered. “It’s me, Maude.” No answer and no indication of movement. She stepped closer to the bed and touched Lily’s arm. “Lily, wake up.”

  Lily’s red corkscrew curls spilled out from the cord of her sleep mask and over her pillow like extra-long fringe on a wool horse blanket. She tried to sit up. “Ouch.” She grabbed her arm and lay back down. “Oh my, that smarts. Maude, is that you?”

  “Of course it’s me.” Maude sat on the edge of the bed.

  Lily removed her sleep mask, smoothed her hair away from her eyes, and pushed up and propped herself on the pillows. “What in the world of all that makes absolutely no sense do you want? It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Well, I—”

  “Don’t tell me. You still have that habit you had when we were in college. You get this bright idea for your art project in the middle of the night and you turn on every light in the apartment and start to work as if the whole world is awake and just waiting to see your creation.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Well, thank you for not turning on the light, but would you turn off the flashlight? We never needed a light to talk before. What’s your bright idea?”

  Maude obliged and turned off the light. “I was thinking. You and your group are already here. The weather’s not looking good for the next couple of days. And even if it stops snowing, there’s always the threat of warming and refreezing and ice on the roads. So, why don’t you just make the decision right now to stay? We can all have Christmas here together.”

  “Right now, in the middle of the night, I have to make a decision? It couldn’t wait until morning?”

  “I guess it could, but why wait? Then I’ll sleep better because I have some plans in mind.”

  “But we have plans too, Maude. We have reservations at the Broadmoor.”

  “They’ll understand about the weather. Besides, aren’t you staying there all next week? This way, you can have Christmas here and then again when you get to the Broadmoor. You won’t lose any money even if you have to pay them. We’ll charge you nothing for your nights at Grey Sage.”

  “Sounds inviting.” Lily paused to think. “And I’d rather be here at Grey Sage with you and Silas than anywhere else for Christmas. But Maude, these people are expecting me to get them to Colorado Springs tomorrow, especially Bea.”

  “Only Beatrice is depending on that. The rest of them are with you because they wanted a Christmas to remember. And they can have a lovely Christmas right here with us. And besides, you probably can’t get her there anyway. And if we go ahead and make a decision now, then I’ll make plans for a Christmas they won’t forget.”

  “A decision to stay? Right now?”

  “Yes, right now. This way it’s settled. No more
up in the air about Christmas. You can relax, and you’ll have no problems. I promise to make it all right with Beatrice.”

  Silence.

  “Lily, did you go back to sleep?

  “No, I’m thinking.”

  “Well, think in a hurry. I’d like to get back to bed and get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.” Maude turned on the flashlight and pointed it toward the door.

  “Okay, okay. We’ll stay, but you promise to help me make it agreeable with everyone.”

  “Yes, right after I make it agreeable with Silas. Go back to sleep.”

  Maude slipped quietly back into bed with Silas, and slept peacefully for a while. When she woke again, it was almost too early to even be called morning. The embers in the corner kiva had gone cold through the night. Silas’s muffled snoring sounded like a purring cat, but Maude was wide awake now, shrouded in flannel sheets and a down comforter and imagining her day.

  I never have been one for surprises, but the surprise early storm dumping a foot of snow wasn’t so bad. And the surprise of the inn filled with an Unlikely Christmas Party makes it better. And then the total surprise of Christmas at Grey Sage again? That’s the best.

  Maude had lived here for almost fifty years, and she had never seen weather like this. She had only to listen to the howling winds and to look through the undraped transom windows at the snow still blowing sideways to know that Lily’s middle-of-the-night decision was a good one. She lay still, trying not to bother Silas, and thought of her guests, assessing how much food was in the larder and imagining how she might make a memorable time for these disappointed folks whose holiday plans had not included being stranded in an undecorated mountain inn during a snowstorm. If Christmas found the inn with filled with guests, then Maude determined the inn would be filled with Christmas, and everything that meant.

  Maude pushed the covers away and sat straight up. “Silas . . . Silas, wake up, we have work to do.”

  Silas turned over and rubbed his eyes. “Yesterday, you pushed me out of bed to pack. So what is it this morning?”

  By this time, Maude was on her feet. “We have work to do. It’s almost Christmas. We still have ten guests, and we don’t even have a Christmas tree.”

  “But they’re leaving this morning. We don’t need a tree. We’re having Christmas at the casita with Alo and Lita, and they already have a tree.”

  Maude shook the covers. “We were having Christmas with Alo and Lita, but plans have changed. I had a talk with Lily earlier, and they have agreed to stay.”

  Silas stretched and raised himself up on his elbows. “Earlier? My stars, Maude, it’s ten ’til five now. When did you have this conversation with Lily?” Then he came to his senses. “Oh, one of those middle-of-the-night flashes of inspiration?”

  “Yes. She’s agreed to stay, and we need to get this place looking like Christmas.”

  Silas lumbered out of bed and grabbed his robe on the chair. “From the sound of your voice, I’m supposing that we’ll have a Christmas tree up before the day’s over.”

  Maude pulled up the sheets and comforter and straightened the bed. “Right again. We’ll have a tree—no, two. One big one in the great room and a smaller one in the dining room. And fresh garlands on the mantle and candles in the windows. We’ll get out the ornaments and my collection of manger scenes, and—”

  Silas stopped in his tracks and rubbed his head. “Wait a minute, Maude. We’re supposed to cut trees and garlands in this weather? And isn’t all that other stuff you mentioned still packed away?”

  “Yes, and I know exactly where. It’s in the storage closet at the end of the east hallway.”

  Silas shrugged his shoulders. “I guess the way my bones are feeling this morning, I should be grateful we don’t have an attic. Alo and I are getting too old for this, especially tree cutting when there’s a foot of snow on the ground.”

  Silas was grumpier than usual and headed for the bathroom to get dressed. “You know, Maude, if you hadn’t allowed Lily to bring her entourage back here last night, we wouldn’t have all this work to do. We’d be having a quiet Christmas at home.”

  Maude followed him into their walk-in closet, which was almost as large as their bedroom. “Well, they’re here. And Silas, those people are not Lily’s entourage. They’re folks like you and me: folks who are running from Christmas because life hurts sometimes, and Christmas is too tender a time to be alone.” Maude reached for a heavy sweater. “And Lily was good enough to make Christmas travel plans for them so they wouldn’t have to suffer through a miserable Christmas. And besides, if they weren’t here, you and I’d be spending this Christmas here alone with Alo and Lita and that howling wolf. As it is, we’ll have some interesting guests around our Christmas table.”

  “Pardon me, but as interesting as these folks may be, they’re really strangers, all of them, except for Lily. And Henry. I like him.”

  Maude adjusted her shirt collar underneath her sweater. She picked up her hairbrush and brushed her long white hair, twisting it around her finger into a tight bun on the top of her head. “Silas, you said yesterday you were glad they came and that you enjoyed having them. Was that the truth?”

  He reached for his pants. “It was the truth. I did enjoy them, but I didn’t know I would be spending Christmas with them. They’re strangers, Maude—well, except for Lily.”

  “It’s Christmas, and they’re here. Perhaps you should look at the rest of these strangers as friends you haven’t made yet.”

  Silas grumbled some more. “So, what do you know about these interesting strangers who are about to become our friends?”

  “Well, Lily’s not a stranger since I met her about fifty years ago. And let’s see, Ted and Laura Sutton are retired professors from back East. Ted’s in pharmacology and Laura in music theory, I believe. Lily met them at some academic conference years ago, and they’ve been going on study tours with her. He seems interesting enough, but she . . .”

  Silas rolled his eyes. “She is cold. A very strange stranger.”

  “Oh, but there’s Beatrice, the lovely, shriveling ballerina. You said she was entertaining.” Maude couldn’t hide her chuckle.

  “Okay, what about the others?”

  “Silas, I already told you about these folks before they arrived the first time.”

  “I know, but I wasn’t paying much attention before. I didn’t know they were moving in.”

  “You seem to like the Martins already. And then there’s Reba and Emily.”

  “Hmm, so we have Lily the retired-art-professor-turned-travel-agent, a pharmacist, a pianist who won’t play the piano, a wrinkled-up ballerina, two veterans of wars sixty years apart, a minister with a sweet wife, and a psychotherapist with a beautiful young daughter who’s more put together than her mother. Sounds like the only thing they have in common is they all had a bright idea to take a Christmas trip.” Silas just shook his head.

  Maude walked over and hugged him. “So when did you get to be Scrooge?” She kissed his cheek. “Come on, Si, don’t waste your time being so Scroogey. We have things to do, like making a memorable Christmas for all of us.”

  “You’re right, Maude. I suppose if God could come to earth at Christmas and make us his children, we can at least try to make these strangers our friends.”

  Maude secretly smiled and headed to the kitchen. She could hear that Alo and Lita were already busy. The smell of brewed coffee warmed her soul as she passed through the dining room. She stopped in the butler’s pantry long enough to pour herself a cup.

  Maude knew Lita was making bread because she was humming. Lita always hummed a lullaby while she kneaded bread or biscuits. She declared it kept her from being too rough with the dough and kneading it too long.

  “So, are you taking Silas’s job this morning making the coffee?” She hugged Lita. “You’re up earlier than usual.”

  “Couldn’t sleep, so I figured I might as well get up and get busy. That howling wolf. Gives me the shivers and makes
Alo pace. I only hear one, but he’s convinced himself there are two and possibly three.” She reached for more flour. “Brings out his hunter instinct. He wants to protect his animals.”

  “I’m with you about the shivers. I heard him again last night. He was doing a duet with the hoot owl in the pine tree right outside our window. Such is life in these mountains. What’s for breakfast? I know it’s bread. I heard you humming.”

  “Cinnamon scones, orange butter, chorizo-and-sweet-potato hash.”

  Maude leaned over the skillet where the chorizo and sweet potatoes were caramelizing. “Smells wonderful. Can you handle this by yourself for a few more minutes? I need to check some things in the storage room in the east hall.”

  “Certainly. The store room, huh? What do you need in the storage room?”

  “Christmas decorations. Our guests are staying for Christmas.”

  “Since when was that decided? Alo hasn’t even given you the latest weather report.” Lita pulled the sticky dough from her hands.

  “I talked to Lily earlier. It’s the wisest thing to do, and it’ll be fun.” Maude put her mug on the counter to look for her keys.

  “So after more than twenty years, we’re celebrating Christmas at Grey Sage again?” Lita sounded surprised, if hopeful.

  “That we are, Lita. I didn’t think I’d ever spend another Christmas here, but . . .” She paused, considering her words. “It’s time we take these broken dreams and memories of past Christmases and make something good of them again.”

  Lita gave her a thoughtful look, then put a towel over the bread dough and moved to the sink to wash her hands. “I’m glad the inn is full. It makes me happy. I was feeling so sad that neither of the girls will be here. Catori called last night. This is the first Christmas we have ever been apart, Maude.”

  Maude had found the keys and started out. She turned around, came back, and hugged her friend. “I’m so sorry, Lita. But the girls will be here when the weather clears. And now, with the inn full and the girls coming later, we’ll just keep having Christmas for a few days. And we’re going to have a glorious Christmas for our guests. A snowstorm, an accident, and Christmas at Grey Sage weren’t exactly in their plans either, you know?” She leaned over to kiss Lita’s cheek, then headed out.