“I agree. A setting that any bride would give her eyeteeth to secure.”
“Perhaps we should suggest that to Angie. This would be a fine resort to house weddings.”
He smiled. “And it would bring me back to see your lovely face.”
“Why Mr. Fredricks; are you flirting?”
“I suppose I am. Feels good too. Hope you don’t mind.”
Sandra did not. The man who’d landed on her doorstep was likeable and she found herself enjoying this brief time together on his first evening at the resort. “Suppose at our age, there’s no time to waste,” she said half blushing.
“I’m only forty-nine and do not consider that the end of my life. Got lots of living left in these bones.”
She sighed. “You’re right. Suppose I got to feeling old when Braxton passed away, and more so when my son decided to fly from the nest and get married.”
“Just a ripple in the pond. Sandra. You’ll find a new wave to soar on.”
Just then the light flicked on and illuminated the room. Trevor and Angie stood at the door.
“I thought I heard voices. What are you doing sitting in the dark?” Angie asked.
“It’s not dark,” Sandra said. “There’s a full moon and we have a lantern glowing on our table.”
“Yes, I noticed the cozy scene, mother. Who’s your friend?”
Sandra jumped to her feet. “Why it’s Robert Fredricks – the wedding planner.”
Robert stood. “Gather you two are the happy couple. I arrived a day early. Hope you don’t mind that I came straight out to the resort and that this lovely angel has fed me and shown me to my room.”
Angie rushed over to the table. “Not at all. And thank you, Sandra for filling in for us.” She turned her attention to Robert. “Welcome to Heritage Inn. I’ve read wonderful reviews about your services and am excited to work with you.”
“This wedding will be a walk in the park. The splendor of the Inn will do most of the work for me.”
“Possibly, but I will be grateful for you to relieve me of the pressure of wedding details. Its year end at the resort, I have a turnaround of guests before ours arrive, and my fiancé is finally here. I feel torn in too many directions to do anything satisfactorily.”
“Well, you rest easy, Miss Parkinson. I’ll sort through the details and run only the best ideas by you and Mr. Dristoll before finalizing it.” He glanced at Sandra. “And I believe his mother is looking for something to occupy her time. With her help, we’ll make this the best wedding Pineville has ever seen.”
The next morning, Sandra took extra time choosing her outfit. She shuffled through the clothes she’d packed from home and came to the sad conclusion her wardrobe was outdated. She’d began to dress like the old woman, much like the woman she perceived herself to be. That picture had changed last night. Robert’s worldview had awakened a fresh spirit and her focus on being abandoned took a back seat to a woman with more living left to do. How fickle – that one handsome gent paying a bit of interest could awaken the sleeping beauty within.
She laughed at her silliness, but continued to take additional care to her appearance. Puffing her chestnut hair slightly on top gave the impression she was taller than she actually was and it beat wearing those unbearable high-heels. She used a hot-iron to curl the ends under at chin length. Sandra chose a pair of well-fitting jeans that Angie had purchased from Pineville as a gift and a multi-colored pullover sweater that stretched down low over her ample hips. She wasn’t as slender as she used to be. Probably too many cookies and not enough exercise. But when she stood in front of the mirror, she beamed, and her face lit up. Braxton had always claimed her smile made her a rare beauty. Did she want Robert to see that same quality? He was the first man, other than Braxton, that had sparked anything womanly inside her. The thought scared and revitalized her at the same time.
Sandra shook off the musing and headed for the door. They had a wedding to plan. When she entered the dining room, she noticed Robert sitting at the same table as last night, his head buried in his computer screen. She approached him.
“Never could get my head wrapped around that technological monster. I still prefer the old-fashioned pad and pen.”
He stumbled to his feet and although he said nothing, she noted he gave her a once over scan before settling his eyes on her face. “My daughter insisted that I learn. Said no one would hire me as a wedding planner if they couldn’t communicate via the airwaves. I’m afraid she was right. The world is going viral, but I’ve discovered that if I stick to my program, my online site, and a bit of Internet browsing, I slay the monster most days.”
Sandra sat across from him. “How can I help you today?”
He grinned. “I was hoping you’d take me on a grand tour of the resort and maybe even hit the town highlights this afternoon. I like to get a feel for the venue. It helps make the details of the event come alive.”
“I’d love to show you around. I am an encyclopedia of information so you definitely picked the right assistant.”
“I had no doubts.” He closed the computer and pushed it aside. “Shall we order breakfast and get our day started?”
“The special is Cook’s farmer’s omelette. Comes complete with hash browns and pancakes on the side smothered in fruit and cream.”
“Sounds delicious.”
When the waitress arrived, they ordered their meals, coffee and orange juice. The sun sat midway in the sky, releasing colorful streams that touched the lake’s surface.
“Beautiful view,” Robert said. “Do Trevor and Angie want the ceremony to be down at the lake or inside?”
“Angie is so undecided. The parlor holds such special memories, but it’s hardly big enough. The guest list is already at seventy with twenty-tree replies not accounted for yet.” She sighed as she focused on the view. “Personally, I think the beach is the ideal location with outside tents for the dinner and dance. Family will be staying overnight at the resort and I’d like them to enjoy roaming this spectacular historical site throughout the event.”
“Sounds like you got it all figured out,” said Robert.
“Oh, no! Don’t listen to me. You’re the expert.”
“Who very much appreciates a local point of view. Feel free to spout your ideas, Sandra Dristoll.”
“I don’t live here, officially. I own a home in Nashville, Tennessee.”
“Aha. The music city. Went to the Grand Old Opry once. Do you like country music?”
“Guilty as charged. Love the storytelling part.”
“My favorite part is that it doesn’t bombard my ears with noise levels so loud I still hear the echo an hour later.”
Sandra grinned, wondering if he was also taking mental notes on all the things they had in common. She couldn’t deny the attraction of a man with similar likes and dislikes. Breakfast arrived, and the two grew silent as they attacked their plates. Robert devoured the entire thing while Sandra pushed away the last of her pancake delight.
“That’s enough nourishment to do us for quite a while,” Sandra said. “Are you ready to walk? The weather promises not to detour from the usual. I love this small pocket in the country where a person needs to artificially portray the seasons to override the never-changing temperature of seventy-eight degrees.”
“That’s perfect. At least we can count on a good day for the wedding, no matter the theme we choose.”
“Yes. And the good part is that even if it rains, it comes in the morning – like a cloud burst for twenty minutes – and then the sun returns in full force like it never left. A paradise, perfect location for a year-round resort.”
“I shall have to add it to my list of favorite places to go for a holiday.”
Sandra looked at him and the penetrating intensity of his green eyes held her captive. “And I’ll watch for your return visit, Robert Fredricks.”
His grin widened. “I haven’t left yet.” He stood and reached for her hand. “Shall we go?”
&
nbsp; Robert stood in awe at the gate that led up to Heritage Inn. “Wow! Never got this view last night when I stumbled in after dark. I love the Victorian era, the vibrant colors and the aura it displays sitting on God’s green earth.”
“The gardeners do a splendid job in switching up the flowers for the different seasons. Five-star Accommodation rating in all the reviews online. And of course, the owls are a big attraction. We’ll visit them tonight when they wake up.”
Robert snapped a few pictures with his phone from different angles then reached for her hand again. “Shall we walk the beach?”
Sandra repeated all the tales Angie had told about the lighthouse, the lake that drew locals and vacationers to the resort, and continued with her personal rendition of the Christmas in July events – her first festive experience in Pineville.
“You are quite the guide,” said Robert. “Is there a place to eat in town where I can wine and dine you? Just to say thank you for coming onboard with the project.” She caught the subtle wink and knew a thank-you dinner was the farthest thing from his mind.
“You don’t have to spend your hard-earned money on me, Mr. Fredricks,” she said, suddenly needing to create some distance. “I’ve enjoyed relaying everything I know about this place to your eager ears.”
“I know I don’t have to, Sandra. I want to.” They stopped on the plateau at the lighthouse and he grasped both her hands and again summoned the intense stare that left her speechless.
She bit her lip – a bad habit she’d developed when nervous. “Then, thank you. I know just the place.” Eating her meals at the Inn, Sandra really had no idea of a suitable location for his impulsive invitation, but would drill Angie later. Wouldn’t this turn of events surprise her future daughter-in-law – and Trevor. A man wanted to take her on a date.
Turned out they were less surprised than she’d been. Angie grabbed her in for a bear hug, and Trevor grinned.
“Angie told me about the ornament from the North Pole. Aren’t you afraid you’re getting ahead of Mrs. Claus by painting the town with the marriage planner?”
“Nonsense. It’s dinner – the man has to eat,” said Sandra. “And Angie must have also told you I chalked Mrs. Claus’ interference off as a pleasant memory of my past – perhaps one to set me free for dear Robert. Did you ever think of that?”
“No. Who can figure the old gal out, anyway? Robert is probably the practise run.” Trevor and Angie broke out laughing and Sandra joined.
“You will be pleased to know that I don’t need practise in the romance department. Your father did an excellent job to keep the fires burning. I hope you learned something from his example, Trevor.”
Angie regained control of the conversation. “In answer to your question, Sandra, Pineville’s finest restaurant is Elegant Dining. You must dress up, but the view is spectacular and the atmosphere incomparable to anything you’ve experience before – even Heritage Inn, sad to say.”
“Your chef provides a great menu, but you can’t hog the entire show hereabouts, Angie,” Sandra said, as the next thought terrorized her. “What will I wear?”
“Did you bring your red dress?” asked Trevor. “Men like women in red.”
Sandra swatted him. “Beware, Angie; You have a tough job ahead of you keeping this man in line. I’d gladly surrender my wooden spoon, if you like?” She turned and walked from the office.
Angie had opened her home, the part of the Inn where she’d grown up, to her new mother-in-law. It freed up the paid rooms for guests and for Sandra, it added a personal touch of family that she’d missed so much since Braxton died. Once inside her room, she headed for the closet. She frowned when she saw the dress in question. It wasn’t red – it was burgundy, an A-line design that camouflaged the bad areas and accented the good. She usually wore a fancy lace shawl over it and it hung there to taunt her. Should she dress up? She’d brought the gown in case some pre-wedding event called for it and determined that this evening fit the category. She withdrew the dress and tossed it on the bed. Trevor was a man – even if he were her son – so if the dress was memorable enough for him to suggest, she’d wear it. Sandra headed for the shower; decision made.
An hour later she emerged from her bedroom ready to go. Robert was calling on her proper, like a real date, and for the next ten minutes she paced the floor. Angie popped into the apartment and exclaimed.
“Sandra, you are gorgeous. Robert won’t know what hit him when he comes to pick you up.”
“Feel a tad foolish. All this fuss just to eat.”
Angie hugged the woman. “Mm, and you smell good too.”
“Don’t go reading anything into it. Dressed up because you said the place expected such nonsense.”
“Sammy will drive you and Robert to the restaurant,” Angie said. “Can’t have you both walking to town in your finery. When you’re ready to come home, just text us and we’ll send him back.”
“Oh, Angie. I feel so selfish. This is your time, and here I am sidetracking from our main goal. Two weeks will fly so fast and maybe we won’t be ready for the wedding.”
“It’s one night. And Mr. Fredrick’s said you earned every inch of pampering with all the work you two got done today.”
“I hope you like the place we picked by the beach. The decorations we brainstormed will make the whole area appear heavenly.”
Angie laughed. “I love the water. Even considered once having one of those destination weddings where the bride and groom ski behind the boat.” She placed a finger on her chin. “We could do that with the Harvest Queen.” Her voice raised in excitement then plummeted. “Think I was ten when I imagined such a grand entrance. My dress would never survive. Guess I’ll leave the skiing for the honeymoon.”
“I don’t think Trevor knows how to ski,” said Sandra.
“You’re right! I almost forgot his attempts when he was here in July. Couldn’t stay upright. Mind you – that might create comedy relief. Perhaps I should reconsider? The groom riding in on my board. Let him know who wears the pants in the family.” When Sandra frowned, Angie kissed her on the cheek. “Just teasing. Relax. But I brought up the subject of his future career choice; made sure he knew he had one, that I’d welcome his expertise here at the resort on a full-time basis.”
“What did he say?”
“Said he would seriously consider coming on board. We miss each other terribly when he heads off to lead tours. Don’t think we are long-distance couple material.”
“Glad to hear that.”
Just then, a knock came to the door and panic-struck Sandra. “Look at me shaking like a schoolgirl. I never imagined I’d be dating again.”
“Just be yourself. If the man doesn’t like that, no sense setting yourself up for a fall.” Angie gave Sandra a gentle push. “Well. Don’t keep him waiting forever. Got my phone camera ready to catch his look of astonishment.”
“Don’t you dare.” Sandra hurried to the door and opened it. Robert stood in dark grey pants and a navy blazer holding a bouquet. She took the flowers, never breaking eye contact and a slow smile curled on his lips.
“You are beautiful, and I am the luckiest man in the world tonight.”
Then came the flash, and they both pivoted to see Angie with the camera. “Smile.” They did, involuntarily.
“What do you think this is, prom night?” said Sandra. She passed the flowers to her and said, “Put them in water, please. And don’t wait up.” Robert helped her with her shawl and the two exited. By the time they reached the front entrance, they were near giggling. “Who’d have ever thought we’d make such a fuss about going out to dinner?”
“I’m glad you did. Now I have hours to feast my eyes on you.”
“Yeah, well, it’s all fluff. The real me is down there somewhere.”
“I’m quite in view of the real you, Sandra Dristoll. I just think you forget the inner woman existed. I truly am awakening a sleeping beauty.”
“You are a man overflowing with sugar-coat
ed words, Robert Fredricks, and I haven’t decided if I’m comfortable with it yet.”
“We have two glorious weeks to find our place of comfort,” said Robert. “Did I tell you I married my first wife after three months of courtship and never regretted it.”
Sandra laughed. “I knew Braxton my entire life, so don’t get any funny ideas.”
Sammy stood beside the silver limo with the back door open. “Good evening, folks. Your chariot awaits.”
Once settled inside, Sandra muttered, “Seems absurd to drive such a short distance.”
“I notice you have a hard time letting people spoil you.”
“Suppose I’ve gotten practical over the years. Didn’t lead a fancy life. Nothing upscale about my place in Nashville – just a place called home.”
“And will you move to Pineville after the wedding to be close to your family?”
“Haven’t given it much thought. It’s all happened so fast. But I suppose a bit of distance from mother will help the youngsters start traditions of their own. I might meddle too much if I lived close.”
“A meddler? I doubt it. You have a huge heart and are a wise woman.”
“And how would you know that?”
“I read people well. Your son is a delightful, socially adjusted man and his success speaks well of your skills at motherhood.”
“Alas, that chapter in my life is closing.”
“And here I am to open the door to the next phase. You will soon have to fight off the men lined up at your door, so I fear, if I don’t claim my spot straight off, I’ll surely miss out.”
Sandra bit her lower lip and turned her attention to the stores as the car whizzed by. “We’ll need to search the area for motels to accommodate the wedding guests. Even though families have squished in, they all won’t be able to stay at the resort.”
“I’ve noticed two so far, but yes, let’s come to town tomorrow and speak to the owners for availability.” He reached over and covered her hand that clutched the leather upholstery in front of her like a lifeline.
“I won’t bite, Sandra. The same man lives under this suit that you’ve been with all day.”
A Family for Christmas Page 2
