by Danni Roan
For a few moments they concentrated on their meals, neither sure what it was they were eating as thoughts, hopes, dreams seemed to dance in their heads.
Devon broke the spell by speaking again. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this with a girl before,” he mused. “You’re so different. Why?”
“I don’t know,” Anita shrugged. “I’m just me.”
“And I’m just me,” Devon laughed, “but you’re special. I can feel it.” He shook his head sure he sounded like an idiot, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Since we ran into each other,” he chuckled, “you seem to be on my mind every day.”
“I’m sorry,” Anita said worried that he found her distracting.
“Don’t be,” Devon hastened reaching out and laying his hand on hers. “I like it. It’s just different.”
“Our meeting was rather odd,” Anita said. “How many people do you know crash into each other at a hospital while carrying giant teddy bears?”
“As far as I know we are the first,” Devon’s warm laugh washed away the awkwardness of a moment ago, and Anita’s warm smile seemed to bring the restaurant back into brilliance. “So tell me more about your trip to Alaska,” Devon prompted twirling his chicken Alfredo on his fork.
“I don’t know what else to tell you,” Anita said. “I worked at a resort taking pictures, and now, I’m supposed to paint scenes for different buildings at the place.”
“Have you started?”
“Yes, I couldn’t help but start right away. The colors, the light, the images, were inspiring,” Anita gushed. “I’m experimenting with colors now, using grays, blues, and white to find just the right way to express the essence of the place.
“You really love this stuff don’t you?” Devon smiled, his blue eyes twinkling at her description.
“Yes,” Anita admitted. “I’ve always loved art, and this, well, this is my heart.”
“How much longer will you have to study?” Devon asked. “You said you would go back to school after the break.”
“I have one more semester,” Anita admitted. “I’ve learned a great deal from my studies, but I can’t say I’ve enjoyed being away at college. I miss my family. I miss the lake and the Old Inn.”
“The Inn?” Devon raised a brow. “That old place up along the shore. I haven’t been there since I was a kid. My parents used to spend summer weekends up there, but they said it was getting too run down and finally stopped.”
Anita nodded. “That was true until Jamie joined forces with Gram,” she smiled. “The whole place has been renovated and restored. The Inn itself never stopped being a popular place for dinner or a weekend stay but it was getting to be too much for Grandma Walton on her own, but when her granddaughter, my sister-in-law joined her, investing everything in the place until it turned around.” Anita’s bright smile showed that there was more to the story and Devon leaned forward.
“And?” he prompted making the pretty girl giggle.
“That’s how Jamie met Carlos,” Anita sighed. “He was the painter that restored all of the cottages.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope, she walked right into his ladder and dumped him on the front porch of the Patriotic cabin,” Anita laughed. “He had me come out and help him paint over the little porch to cover the mess.”
“I think I’d like to see that,” Devon said. “I’ll have to tell mom and dad to go over there and visit sometime.”
“I’d be happy to show you around,” Anita spoke, the words bubbling out before she could stop them. She didn’t want to sound forward, but she had to admit that she liked the idea of Devon visiting her beloved home. In her wildest dreams she had never pictured herself living in the elegant Victorian house along the shore of the big lake, but it had been a-dream-come-true.
“It’s a date,” Devon said grabbing at the idea of seeing Anita again. “When can I come out?”
Anita tipped her head to one side, a teasing light twinkling in her ebony eyes. “How about this weekend?” she asked. “Or are you working?”
Devon pulled his phone from his pocket and scanned his schedule. “I’m on shift Saturday morning, but I could meet you at the Inn that night. We could have dinner together, or go for a walk. Whatever you like.”
“Do you ice-skate?” Anita asked her mind flashing on an idea.
“I’m from Michigan, of course I ice-skate,” Devon teased. “I’ll have to dig out my skates though. It’s been a while.”
Anita smiled. “Sounds like a plan. Can you be there at four o’clock or is that too early? I’d like a little bit of daylight for our excursion.”
“Excursion is it?” Devon laughed liking the sound of the adventurous word. “I’ll be there,” he finished as together they dug into their meals.
The rest of the evening was spent in small talk, sharing childhood tales, or speaking about their educational experience.
Anita couldn’t help but wonder how the man kept up with his studies and shifts at the hospital. It looked like being an intern would be even more of a strain on his busy life.
As the evening ended, Devon paid the bill and walked Anita to her car. “I look forward to seeing you soon,” he said leaning in and kissing her cheek. “Until then good night.”
Chapter 13
“Don’t you look nice,” Gram Walton smiled as Anita walked into the foyer of the Old Inn.
She was wearing her favorite outfit: a long bright red sweater that ended just above her knees and a pair of black, red, and white tights covered in little reindeer.
“You think I look all right?” Anita asked twirling for Gram, her high black boots with the thick rubber soles glistening in the soft golden light of the space.
“Yes, you look like you’re ready for a lovely outing in the snow. Are you going to take a sleigh ride? You know the weekends are busy so you might not get a space.”
“No, I don’t think we’ll take a sleigh ride,” Anita said shaking her head and making her silky tresses swing. “I love the horses, and think it is great that Jamie talked some of the Island operators into bringing their horses here for the winter.”
“That was rather a stroke of genius,” Gram admitted. “Jamie has some good ideas,” she added with a laugh. Her granddaughter had reinvented the Old Inn turning the rows of holiday cabins into seasonally themed cozy retreats suitable for a couple’s get away, or a family outing.
“Besides, I knew that this time of year it is hard to get space on even the large sleigh rides,” Anita admitted. “I thought I’d take Devon ice skating and maybe to the old fishing shack for some hot chocolate to warm up.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Gram said. Didn’t you and Carlos paint that last summer?”
“We did,” Anita giggled. “It’s rather colorful now and covered in scenes of all four seasons right here at the Inn.”
“Well you two have a nice time,” Gram urged watching as another couple entered the foyer. “Looks like it’s going to be a busy night even in this frigid weather,” she finished, smiling and greeting the new arrivals.
Anita moved away from the front desk gazing out across the already darkening landscape. Evenings came way too early this time of year and the last golden glow of the day was ebbing over the lake, turning the frozen edges a shimmering golden hue. No matter how hard Anita tried she never felt that she could truly infuse her paintings with the light that touched her world.
“Anita,” the voice made the young woman smile as she spun to face Devon. He was dressed in a heavy winter coat, dark gray Chook, and thick gloves. He also carried a pair of old black ice skates draped over one shoulder, and he looked like he had just stepped out of any girls dreams.
“Hi,” Anita said grinning.
“Hi,” Devon replied, his bright smile warming her to her toes.
“Are you ready for a night on the ice?” Anita asked pulling her own hat and gloves from her pocket. “I thought we would go skating first then we could have dinner l
ater when the crowd thins out a bit.”
“Good plan,” Devon agreed moving back toward the door he had just entered.
“You two have fun,” an old woman called from the front desk as Anita grabbed her skates from the door and headed out into the icy darkness.
“I almost didn’t get out of the car,” Devon said as he walked along beside the lovely Anita toward the ice skating rink near the shore.
“Why?” Anita asked shocked and a little concerned. “I thought you wanted to do this?”
“I do,” Devon hurried to assure Anita that he wanted to be there with her. “It’s just that when I got here, all I could do was stare at that big house. The whole shore line seemed to sparkle with the golden light spilling through the windows of the Inn, and it didn’t look anything like what I remembered.”
Anita laughed, a soft warm sound in the crisp night air. “I know what you mean,” she said. “When I first moved here the whole house was a stark white, but Jamie was determined to restore it to original colors and mostly did once Carlos got the color pallet back.”
“What do you mean by mostly?” Devon asked as each step carried them closer to the dancing lights strung above the rink that had been restored a few years earlier.
“This place is amazing,” Devon smiled gazing around him. “There’s even a seating area and fire pit.”
Anita grinned. She loved the Old Inn, and what her brother and sister-in-law had done to it over the years. She had put hours of painstaking work into helping restore every aspect of the place, and her heart belonged firmly with the place.
“When Jamie first met Carlos, she wanted the house restored,” Anita said. “As he took paint samples and had them tested and found out the original colors, he modified them just a bit, so they weren’t so dark and depressing. Over time they added in other features that had been lost to time as well, like the ice skating rink. Sometimes our local hockey team even comes out and practices here.”
Devon nodded heading for a bench near the rink and pulling off his winter boots as he prepared to strap on his old skates.
“Well the place looks gorgeous,” Devon smiled his eyes falling on Anita, the beautiful greens, tans, and orange accents of the Old Inn fading in comparison to the woman next to him.
Anita blushed prettily at the look in Devon’s eyes. She couldn’t understand why the man had such an effect on her.
“The cabins are another whole story,” Anita said tying her skate and standing. “They’re always booked year round anymore and none as much as the Christmas Cottage. It seems people want to capture the spirit of Christmas all year long.”
Devon wobbled to his feet hoping he wouldn’t break an ankle. It had been years since he had done any skating, and he felt like a fish out of water as Anita tiptoed toward the ice.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Anita smiled her dark eyes dancing at his obvious discomfort.
“I just need to find my feet,” Devon said teetering.
Anita took pity on the man and reached for his arm. She’d been iceskating here since Carlos had replaced the little pond’s liner and updated the lighting around the rink. It was a beautiful, restful place throughout the year, but now the sounds of children laughing, and people zooming around the icy feature filled the air with the sounds of Christmas.
“Thanks,” Devon said standing a little straighter as he clung to ‘Nita’s arm. “You’re a life saver.”
Anita laughed and Devon turned to look at her only to wobble more until she spun in place taking both of his hands in hers. “Follow my lead,” she said. “You’ll get your legs back soon enough.”
Devon looked up with a grin, straightening his spine and relaxing in the warm glow of her coffee brown eyes. “You make this seem easy,” he teased as he skimmed along with her. “You must get to skate often.”
“Every time I’m home and there is ice,” Anita admitted. “I couldn’t wait to learn when Carlos put this back together. Every time I’m out here, I imagine people from years ago skimming across the ice. You know like those Victorian ladies in their long dresses and fancy coats, all bundled up. They must have had big bonfires to keep warm, or roast chestnuts and the like.”
Devon grinned, as Anita’s words painted a romantic picture, and he fell into step with her, following her lead across the ice while others zipped past, or wobbled along the edge of the ice.
“You have quite the imagination,” he said. “I bet that would be an amazing painting.”
Anita shrugged. “Maybe someday I’ll paint it the way I see it. I could do the Inn with buggies or sleighs parked in front.”
“That would be something to see, like a glimpse into the past. It sounds like the kind of thing my mom would hang in our dining room back home.”
“You seem to have found your legs,” Anita said as Devon moved in closer.
“But I may have lost my heart,” Devon sighed, his face heating at the unguarded words, even as they brought a glimmer of hope to Anita’s eyes.
Anita dropped her gaze feeling something she had never experienced before. A strange sensation filled her chest, and she felt like she could fly.
Spinning back around she draped her arm around Devon’s waist as he dropped his arm over her shoulders and they continued around the rink a few more times in perfect step.
“I’d like to show you something,” Anita said as they made the turn back to the bench where they had left their boots. “Are you game?”
“Sure,” Devon agreed making his way to the bench on mincing steps and plopping down. “Besides, my ankles could use the rest. I’ll be sore tomorrow.”
Anita laughed. She felt so comfortable with Devon and was excited about showing him the little fishing shack. It had always been a favorite hideout for her over the years and though other guests must surely have found it in their wanderings only the family used it officially. The little building had originally been an ice-fishing hut, and it sat on rolling tumblers and could be pulled onto the ice for ice fishing, but for the most part, she thought of it as her very own retreat.
Taking Devon’s hand she started along the starry shore toward the little copse of trees that sheltered the shed from prying eyes.
“Where are we going?” Devon asked as they trudged through the snow that rose in smooth drifts along the edge of the lake.
“It’s a surprise?” Anita said. “I just want you to see it. This place has been a little hideaway for me over the years. When it gets too people-y, I have a place to hide out.”
Devon laughed, his warm rich voice a light caress on the wind making Anita shiver with delight.
“Here we are,” Anita said gazing at the small slope-roofed hut. “It’s an old fishing hut, and last year, Carlos and I painted it for practice. Devon squinted into the night, seeing images in the soft reflected light from the snow, but not really being able to make them out.
“Come on,” Anita urged, her middle bubbling with excitement. “It’ll be warmer inside out of this wind,” she paused looking down noticing foot prints in the snow. “Oh, it looks like someone has already been here,” she added pushing the door open and calling a nervous ‘hello’.
“Wow!” Devon said following Anita into the shed where battery powered lanterns flickered softly from the rafters illuminating a small table where a large picnic basket sat on a heavy green table cloth. “Did you do all of this?” he asked his blue eyes full of awe.
“No,” Anita said shaking her head in wonder as she moved to the basket. “Maybe Gram did it.” She stared at the basket and the glimmering lights then lifted the top pulling a glittering card from the depths.
“What does it say?” Devon asked. “Maybe we should leave if someone else had plans to use the place.”
Anita flipped open the card and grinned. “It’s from Mrs. Claus,” she giggled and says; “A magical night for Devon and Anita, Mrs. Claus.”
Chapter 14
“So you didn’t plan this?” Devon asked again moving into the litt
le hut and feeling a hint of warmth flash over him from a small propane heater in a far corner.
“I didn’t,” Anita said amazed at the transformation the little place had undergone. “I had only hoped to sit on one bench along the walls and enjoy a cup of cocoa,” she admitted, pulling a thermos from her large shoulder bag.
“So you think your Gram did this then? She’s Mrs. Claus? But how?”
Anita shrugged. “I don’t know who else could have done it,” she admitted walking to the table and opening the old-fashioned picnic basket for the second time as bells jingled somewhere along the lake. “I guess we should enjoy it while we can though,” she added with a bright smile. “Someone went to a lot of trouble on our behalf.”
Devon chuckled gazing around at the lovely scenes painted on the inside of the hut. Horse drawn sleighs and winter sport scenes graced one wall, while spring seemed to burst into life on another. Summer’s greens graced the third wall, and fall glimmered around the doors and tiny window at the front of the place.
“You did all of this?” Devon asked turning to stare at Anita as if she were some priceless piece of art.
“My brother Carlos helped,” Anita said feeling her cheeks heat. “I was still learning, and it was a great place to practice,” she finished pulling two neatly wrapped and still hot plates from the basket along with a salad and bread in a warming basket.
Devon hurried to the table, pulling out a chair for Anita and helping her out of her coat as she handed him a bottle of sparkling cider and two fluted glasses. Now that the door was closed the room seemed warm and cozy, a private respite from the icy world outside.
“I still can’t believe this,” Devon chuckled, uncorking the bottle and taking his own chair before unwrapping a feast. The Cornish hen on his plate was perfectly browned, and the roasted potatoes with carrots and onions glistened in crisp contrast to the cheese broccoli casserole.
Anita opened the basket of rolls taking one and passing it to Devon then dishing salad into small bowls. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen these dishes before,” she said examining the old-fashioned winter scene on her plate. “Maybe Gram had them stored somewhere, but she didn’t have much time to get this together. I only told her we were coming before you arrived.”
