Winter at Christmas Inn, page 2
Tomorrow, Holly would be on a plane heading to Ivy Springs. To say she was regretting this trip would be putting it mildly.
Tyler had already left for Doctors Without Borders with a kiss and a wave. He wasn’t going to be back for at least three months.
Holly fiddled with the necklace he had given her as she blew out her breath. She wished he’d decided to stay, but she knew how much his career meant to him, and she didn’t want to be the one to drag him down.
Plus, Christmas Inn was her problem to bear. She was going to take this time to say goodbye to her grandmother and leave behind all the hurt that had surrounded their relationship.
Living without her parents had always caused a hollow ache to rise up in her chest. Her father had never been in her life. And growing up, she’d always believed that she’d been the reason her mother left.
It wasn’t until she was eighteen that she learned it was her grandmother who had driven her mother from the house. And told her to never come back. Her grandmother was the reason Holly had been abandoned.
And when the truth came to life, Holly left. She couldn’t imagine living in a house with someone who would lie to her like that. Someone who would allow her to think she was responsible for her mother’s sudden departure from her life.
That wasn’t in harmony with the Christmas cheer her grandmother peddled at the inn. And it wasn’t something a grandmother did to her granddaughter.
Whatever Holly’s mother had done, she hadn’t deserved to get thrown from the house.
“Oh no.” Talia’s voice cut through Holly’s reverie.
Holly blinked a few times as she glanced over at her best friend. “What?” she asked as she grabbed a black oversized hoodie and slipped it over her head. She wrapped her arms around her chest, enjoying the soft, warm fabric that enveloped her.
“You’re getting that dazed look again,” Talia said as she set her phone down on the bed. She flipped to her back and stared up at the ceiling.
Holly laughed as she pulled her suitcase off the bed so that she could join Talia. She threaded her fingers together and rested them on her stomach.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Talia asked, tipping her head in Holly’s direction.
Holly blinked a few times but then shook her head. “No. I’ll be fine. It’ll only be a little over a week. Once I’ve fulfilled Hope’s wish, I’ll be back and ready to move on.”
Talia nodded as she moved to stare back up at the ceiling. “It might be fun,” she offered. She sounded like she was trying to convince a toddler that getting poked by a needle would be fun.
Holly laughed. “I’m not sure I would use the word fun, but I’m sure I’ll survive.”
Talia grew quiet. “What is Christmas Inn like? I mean, is it Christmasy all year long?”
Holly stared up at the ceiling. “Yes and no. During the year, it’s got some Christmas decorations, but not like during the holiday season. My grandmother goes all out right after Halloween. Decorations. Lights. The whole shebang.” Realizing what she just said, she quickly corrected herself. “Used to. She used to do that…”
Holly’s voice trailed off. She pinched her lips as a dull ache rose inside of her. That was not a trip down memory lane that she wanted to take.
Talia reached over and patted Holly’s hand. “Alrighty, let’s get you packed,” she said as she pulled herself into a sitting position.
Holly stayed on the bed a few seconds longer before she too sat up and stretched out her arms. “I guess it’s now or never.” She stood and returned her suitcase to its original place.
With Talia’s help, packing went much faster than if Holly had been alone, drowning her sorrow in Irish coffee while listening to Sarah McLachlan. There was always a part of her that connected to the soulful way she sang, “Angel.”
So the fact that Talia was there, keeping her from going down that road, meant everything was packed up and her suitcase was zipped shut before Holly could even finish her coffee.
Talia got a phone call and leaned in to kiss Holly on the cheek and tell her to have a great trip. Holly tried not to scoff as she showed Talia out. As soon as she got to the hallway, Talia had her phone pressed to her cheek and was laughing along with her mom.
Holly leaned on her doorjamb as she folded her arms and watched Talia board the elevator, the doors sliding shut behind her.
Now, very much alone, Holly walked back into her apartment and shut the door. She grabbed a doughnut from the box that Tyler had left her and padded into the living room, where she cuddled up in her pile of blankets. Their soft texture tickled her skin and helped her calm down.
She grabbed the remote and flipped the TV on. The sound of the Home Shopping Network filled the silence. She settled back on the couch and devoured the doughnut faster than she cared to admit. Once it was gone, she licked the glaze from her fingertips and snuggled deep into the blankets.
Her apartment was small and furnished with pieces she’d found in the lobby of her building. It wasn’t anything magical, but it was a place she could call home. And thankfully, Tyler never seemed interested in coming to her place—she quickly sidestepped his questions when he asked.
Her sewing machine was set up in the corner. Racks of unfinished projects lined the room, and scraps of fabric littered the floor.
She’d been having such a hard time creating lately. It was cold and dreary in New York. And the constant holiday merriment was enough to make her want to curl up in bed and never come out.
Sighing, she shifted her gaze to her bulletin board, finding the letter that Rex had given her. The one her grandmother had written.
Pain squeezed her chest, so she dropped her gaze and focused back on the TV. She really didn’t want to know what her grandmother had written. In fact, all she wanted to do was rip the letter up and throw it away.
There couldn’t be anything on that piece of paper that she wanted to know. Her grandmother had said everything ten years ago. What other information could she possibly give?
But, no matter how hard Holly tried to ignore that little white envelope, she couldn’t. Sighing, she pulled off her blankets and stood. She made her way over to the board and pulled the tack from the top corner, allowing the envelope to fall into her open hand.
She might as well take it with her. Maybe there was something in there about the sale of the property that she might need to know.
Here she was, assuming that her grandmother’s letter was an attempt to reach out to her to make amends, when it could just as easily contain some facts or information about the inn. And what if she needed whatever was in it when she signed the papers?
Holly clutched the envelope in her hand as she walked back over to the couch and clicked off the TV. Then she yawned and made her way to her bedroom, where she tucked the envelope into her suitcase.
It didn’t take long to wash her face and brush her teeth. She sighed as she climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to her neck, allowing her body to sink into the mattress.
A sense of relief rushed over her as she thought about her trip. She only needed to survive one week at the inn.
One week for her to fulfill the stipulation and move on with her life. Her grandmother and Christmas Inn would soon be but a distant memory. One she could tuck away in the back of her mind and never revisit.
Her body felt heavy as she closed her eyes and allowed sleep to overtake her.
3
Stephen
“Dam—dang it,” Stephen said, catching himself before he cursed. He was in the process of pulling out the salt from the back of his truck and had managed to bang his leg on the trailer extension of the carriage he had parked in the garage to keep it out of the snow.
Isaac popped up from behind the salt with his finger pressed to his lips. “Uncle Steppen said a naughty word.”
Stephen pursed his lips as he shot his nephew a guilty look. “I know, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
Isaac shrugged, obviously having moved on from Stephen’s blunder, and was busy trying to wedge his body between the bags of salt and the truck. He pressed his tiny six-year-old shoulder into the salt and pushed. Stephen laughed as Isaac grunted. The bag hadn’t moved an inch.
“You helping, buddy?” Stephen asked as he grabbed another bag and hoisted it up onto his shoulder, this time steering clear of the carriage.
Isaac grunted again before Stephen heard him collapse in the bed of the truck. “These are heavy,” the little boy declared.
Stephen grabbed another bag and nodded. “Well, they are when they weigh as much as you do.”
Isaac climbed to the top of the stack and peered down at Stephen. “Am I going to be as big as you someday?”
Stephen shrugged. “Probably. You know, your mom and I are siblings. We share the same genes.”
Isaac wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want to wear girl pants.”
Stephen paused as Isaac’s words rolled around in his mind. Then a chuckle escaped when he realized what Isaac was saying.
“Genes are the code that your body uses to determine if your hair is brown or blond. Not ‘jeans’ like what you wear.” He hoisted another bag on his shoulder.
From the confused look on Isaac’s face, he realized there was no way his nephew was going to understand, so he decided to keep things simple.
“Yes, you will grow to be as big as I am,” he said as he rested the last bag on the pile he’d made at the far end of the garage. He returned to the truck to hoist his nephew out.
He flung Isaac over his shoulder and spun him around a few times. Isaac let out a giggle as he flung his arms out.
“I’m flying!” he squealed.
Stephen let go of the stress that seemed to be suffocating him and laughed as well.
To say he was struggling under a mountain of responsibility would be an understatement.
Christmas Inn was in trouble. Hope was gone, and in a matter of minutes, he was going to have to climb back into his truck and pick up the one girl he’d never forgotten but who had no problem forgetting him.
Holly.
He cleared his throat as he lowered Isaac to the ground.
There was no reason to dwell on what he knew was coming. He was going to hold out hope that Holly wasn’t really going to sell the inn. There was a chance that she would arrive, remember the memories they shared here, and change her mind.
He just needed to ignore the sinking feeling inside of his stomach. He was going to be able to keep running Christmas Inn while taking care of his sister and nephew. He was going to. He had no other option.
The alarm on his phone sounded, and he slipped out his phone to silence it. It was time to leave. Time to get Holly.
Christmas Inn got an email the week before from “Ms. Graham” letting them know she was coming. Stephen was choosing to ignore the fact that she still wasn’t married. He couldn’t allow thoughts like that to roll around in his mind. She was off limits. Period.
She’d addressed it, “To Whom It May Concern,” like she was some pretentious socialite. Which was comical as Stephen thought back to fond memories of Holly in braces and pigtails. So when Stephen had read her letter, he’d laughed out loud and hard.
Apparently, she knew nothing about the inn or that it was his job to run it. She wanted them to take down the Christmas decorations? Was she serious?
Christmas was literally in the inn’s name. Plus, he was booked solid for the month. There was no way he was going to take down the decorations.
Ms. Hoity-toity was in for a rude awakening when she got here. Stephen had half a mind to stuff her room full of decorations just to make a point. But he hadn’t. Blossom had told him to rise above, which he was trying to do—until he’d had seven Christmas trees delivered, and the empty room had just seemed like the perfect place.
What Blossom didn’t know wouldn’t kill her.
He was also trying not to get too giddy about surprising Holly when he showed up at the airport to pick her up. Especially since she clearly had no idea that he was still here.
The shock on her face would be his very own Christmas present.
At the end of her letter, Holly talked about assessing the property, which was a passive way of saying she was going to prep it for sale. Stephen wasn’t stupid. He knew that in an up-and-coming town like Ivy Springs, the thirty-acre property the inn sat on was in high demand.
A development company could build numerous houses on that much land. They’d fill in the backyard pond and sell each lot for top dollar. Holly had inherited a multimillion-dollar piece of land.
Except, it wasn’t just a piece of land. Christmas Inn was iconic. Couples came here every year to make new memories or celebrate old ones.
The fact that Holly saw Christmas Inn as just an item to sell off…well, it made Stephen’s blood boil.
Isaac’s small face popped up in front of Stephen. His nephew was studying him.
“Are you mad?” Isaac asked.
“Nope.” He hoisted Isaac up onto his shoulder again and made his way out through the garage door and across the covered walkway to the porch. When he got to the kitchen door, he swung it open and kicked the snow off his boots as he set Isaac down.
“Hey, bud, I’m running to the airport to pick someone up. Can you hold down the fort for me?” Just then, Mrs. Brondy walked in with her glasses perched on her nose and an apron tied around her waist. Flour dusted her face as she peered at them.
“Heading out now?” she asked as she brushed off her hands.
“Yeah. I have to go pick up the new boss.”
Mrs. Brondy’s expression turned sad with a hint of nostalgia. She had been at Christmas Inn for as long as Stephen could remember. Her food was legendary. Even the town’s residents came to eat at the small dining room of Christmas Inn.
She had been best friends with Hope and knew Holly well. She’d had a front seat to the pain both experienced when the truth about Holly’s mother had come to light. And to have Holly leave like she did, well it broke a lot of hearts.
Truth was, Holly had left a lot of people. And it still hurt—even if Stephen didn’t want to admit it. He hated seeing that hurt in the eyes of people he cared about.
They deserved better than what Holly Graham had given them. They were family, and you never turn your back on family. That was the motto Stephen lived by.
He reached out and kissed Mrs. Brondy on the cheek as he passed. “I’m going to say a quick goodbye to Blossom and then head out,” he called over his shoulder as he made his way into the dining room.
As he walked out, he heard Mrs. Brondy ask if Isaac would help her bake some cookies, to which the little boy quite loudly agreed.
He couldn’t fight the smile that emerged as he slipped past the abandoned reception desk. He found his sister in her wheelchair, sitting in front of the large bay window across from the desk.
She had a forlorn look on her face as she stared out at the setting sun. Stephen could tell that she was deep in thought, and he almost left her alone but then decided against it.
“Hey, sis,” he said as he settled down on the window seat he’d built three years ago. It was as sturdy as the day he’d built it.
Her gaze flickered over to him, and her lips tipped up into a smile. “Hey,” she said as she adjusted the blanket over her lap.
Four years ago, she was in an accident. It had left both legs weakened. It took some convincing, but with Hope’s approval, Stephen had been able to persuade Blossom to bring Isaac to Christmas Inn to live.
And they’d stayed. Christmas Inn was as much their home as it was his.
“I’ve got to run to the airport to grab the new boss,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. Blossom picked up on it and gave him a very unamused look.
“Isaac?” she asked as she turned to glance behind her.
“With Mrs. Brondy. They’re making cookies,” Stephen said as he stood and shrugged.
Blossom’s jaw dropped. “Before dinner? Doesn’t she know it will ruin his appetite? It’s already such a pain to get him to eat.” She started rolling toward the kitchen door.
“Guests?” Stephen called after her.
Blossom waved him away as she disappeared. Stephen chuckled as he heard the voices of Blossom and Mrs. Brondy and then the very loud and disappointed whine of Isaac.
Stephen checked the guest log just to make sure they had no new arrivals that evening, and then he grabbed his jacket and slipped his keys into his pocket.
After grabbing an apple from the counter, he waved to the three in the kitchen and then headed out to the garage. He climbed into his truck and started the engine.
Christmas music blared from the speakers—thanks to Isaac’s insistence. Taking a bite of the apple, Stephen held it between his teeth as he reached over and turned the music down.
Then he backed out of the driveway and pulled out onto the main road. Once he was settled into his seat, he pulled the apple away and chewed thoughtfully as he allowed his mind to wander.
Every so often, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music.
He’d known this day would come eventually. The day that Holly returned. And he’d been prepared—or so he’d thought.
But now his stomach was in knots and, with a two-hour drive to go, he wasn’t sure he was ready for anything anymore.
What was she going to do? How much had she changed?
Hope had been cremated at her wish two months ago. There had been no funeral service. The ashes had been sent to Holly and that was it.
The Christmas Inn held a memorial in her honor, but Holly didn’t come. Stephen wasn’t sure what he thought of that. In fact, he tried to push that detail from his mind. It wasn’t going to do anyone any good to dwell on the past.
He was thankful for the two-hour drive to the airport. It gave him time to think. And by the time he pulled into the parking garage, he felt as if he could breathe again. Perhaps he was going to be able to face this next week with Holly coming home.
