She
peered through the snow-spattered windshield at the neon sign and hoped like
hell there was room at the inn.
Mandy
Nichols kept a tight grasp of the steering wheel as she pulled her older model
Jeep to a stop across from the hotel entrance. Her absolute last hope here in their
little resort town of Cascade Lake.
“Of
course, Dean and the girls would pick this week for his before the Christmas
holiday visit.” Nerves always did make her talk to herself. “The busiest
tourist week all year.”
The
very week of the Snowfall Festival. When every single hotel, motel and bed and
breakfast room for thirty miles in any direction was booked months in advance.
Keeping
her foot on the brake, she shoved the gear shift into park. Call her crazy, but
no way could she contemplate the idea of spending an entire week, day and night
under the same roof with her soon to be ex-husband. Especially during the
Festival. What used to be an annual high-point in their once happy life together.
She
flipped off the windshield wipers then brought her mitten clad hands up to
smooth absently over the top of the steering wheel. “Sitting here with the
engine running, brooding, sure isn’t going to change things.”
An
instrumental rendition of Jingle Bell Rock played on the radio, and she
absently tapped her fingers in time to the beat, momentarily lost in the
cheerful song.
Momentarily.
Because before she knew it, the tune ended.
“Doctor
John’s Hemorrhoid Crème. We devote our bottom line to your bottom…line.” The
idiotic message, delivered in a nasally monotone, boomed out of the speakers
next.
“No
sense sticking around to hear about that.”
Her
bottom line…she was flat out of distractions.
“No
more stalling.” She shut off the engine with a renewed sense of purpose. “The
sooner I go inside, the sooner I’ll have this over with.”
Before
she completely lost her nerve.
Dropping
the keys in her purse, she cranked the door handle then stepped out to the
chilling sting of fat, wet snowflakes landing on her cheeks. She ducked her
head as she scurried toward the door, all the while buffeted by frigid Northern
Michigan winds. A perfect match for the current condition of her heart. Ice
cold and frozen solid. Even the heated blast as she pushed her way into the
lobby wouldn’t affect any change in that. Nor could the piped in Christmas
carols swirling in the air. Or huge blue and red balls twinkling and sparkling
as they dangled from the ceiling on silver cords. A large and lush green wreath
studded with vibrant red holly berries and matching velvet bow hung on the wall
behind a long, marble counter. That couldn’t do it either.
“There’s
just no getting away from the Ho-Ho-Ho around here.” There she went muttering
to herself again.
Except
for buying gifts for the girls, she was in no mood to even do Christmas this
year.
“At
all.”
Two
customers already in line turned around, forcing her to bring out an apologetic
smile. An elderly gentleman with kind eyes smiled back. The younger,
pony-tailed woman—who looked about as harried as Mandy felt—didn’t.
While
she couldn’t very well block out the music, she could divert her eyes from all
things festive. Glancing to her right, her gaze landed on a framed poster from
a previous Snowfall Festival.
Wouldn’t
you just know.
Preserved
behind glass, this one was from seventeen years ago. Ironically, the very event
where she and Dean first met. Shortly after he’d arrived in town, a newly
assigned State Police Trooper, and she was a recently hired third grade
teacher. Both embarking on new phases in their lives.
Taking
off her mittens, she unzipped her parka. With people ahead of her, and only one
agitated clerk in evidence, she couldn’t do much more than stand there,
wait…and try her very best not to remember…
“Nobody
told me there’d be an actual angel on the premises this year.”
The
tenor voice, deep, smooth and rich, set off a tremor of awareness in her that
flowed from head to toe. In truth, she was strongly attracted to the voice
before she even laid eyes on the man behind it. Once she did that, she was a
definite goner. Dark brown, neatly trimmed hair framed an incredibly handsome
face. Broad shoulders topped the body of a male model.
She
gulped in a breath and hiked her purse higher on her shoulder.
Obviously
an outdoors man, he carried the scent of snow covered evergreens etched with
cinnamon candy. As he moved forward, his appealing fragrance surrounded her.
“I’m
Dean.” He flashed a warm smile. One that lit up his eyes, causing them to
crinkle at the corners in the most charming way.
She
hadn’t recovered enough from his angel comment to respond when he reached out
to capture one of her hands in both of his.
Pleasantly
captivated, she didn’t mind one little bit. “Mandy Gearhart.”
“Hi,
Mandy Gearhart. If we’re already into supplying last names, mine’s Nichols.
Dean Nichols. Nice to meet you.”
“Same
here, Dean.”
From
that moment forward, their life together evolved into something truly
wonderful. A two-year courtship, fairy tale wedding and happily ever after with
all the trimmings.
Until
recently.
“Can
I help who’s next?” The request was followed by an exaggerated throat clearing.
Brought
back to the present, she blinked as the stocky clerk stared at her in
expectation.
“I
need a room for a week starting tonight.” Stepping forward, she didn’t even try
to hide the desperation in her voice. What was the point?
“Let’s
see what we have.” Pushing a pair of wire rimmed glasses further up on his
nose, he tapped the keyboard with a number of sharp clicks, then squinted at
the screen in front of him. “You could have made this reservation online, you
know.” He flicked her a look of pure irritation before bringing his attention
back to the screen.
It’s
much more fun to be here in person with you. Best to keep the smart-ass comment
to herself. “My computer has been acting up lately.” She had no trouble at all
telling the lie. He didn’t need to know the gory details of her recent life.
A
looming non-contested divorce, two beautiful girls, ages fourteen and thirteen,
who couldn’t accept the fact that their once blissfully in love and happily
married parents were neither anymore. Both daughters she and Dean shared caused
them very few problems beyond the inevitable drama of their teen years. Until
the separation threw everyone into unknown territories. Neither girl had been
exactly thrilled when their mother first suggested the idea of getting their father
a hotel room while he was here, and she hadn’t had the energy for another
argument.
Hence
this trip to make the reservation face to face.
The
trill of a desk phone beside the clerk cut into her thoughts. Quitting his room
search for her, he reached over to pick up.
“Front
desk.” Glancing down, he grew silent to listen.
For
crying out loud. As far as she was concerned, the interruption of a phone call
ranked right up there with cutting in front of someone in line. Extremely rude.
I’d like to get this handled, please.
Leaning
on the counter, when her cell chimed, she moved slightly away then rummaged in
her purse until she found it. Amanda shown back at her from the display screen.
“Hi,
honey. What do you need?”
“Where
are you, Mom?”
“Uh…ma’am?”
She
glanced over as the desk clerk caught her eye, held up the pointer finger of
his right hand, then disappeared somewhere into a back room.
For
heaven’s sake.
“Mom?”
“Yes.
I’m here.”
“Where?”
“Running
errands.”
“Who
just called you ma’am?”
She
shut her mouth and blinked, waiting for an only slightly deceptive response to
occur to her. None did. What was the use? She never was a very good liar,
especially when her kids were involved.
“I’m
at the Hamilton Inn making a reservation for your father.”
“Mo-o-m.”
A heavy sigh followed. A massive eye roll no doubt came next. “I thought we
talked about this.”
“We
did.” She called up her most authoritative mother voice. “When I first informed
you and your sister of my decision.”
“I
don’t know how you could let things get this far.”
“How
I…” She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth and slowly counted to ten. “That’s
how you see this?”
“What
I don’t see is why Daddy can’t stay with us for one measly week.”
“Because
he can’t.” Her standard reply was decidedly weak. What else was new?
“But
why?” Amanda was close to whining. Close but not quite.
“It
will be easier for all of us.” Another equally feeble response came out of her.
The only one she could share. Unlike so many others she kept locked up tight in
an irreparably broken heart.
Especially
the soul revealing…I have to keep your father as far away from me as I possibly
can while he’s here to spend Christmas with us…rather you. Because the hurt he
caused me is still way too fresh and raw. Just as she’d begun to locate the outer edges of the healing process, seeing him again, living under the same roof with him
again, even temporarily, would be like having the scab ripped off a partially regenerated wound to create a whole
new one. Because once he is in the house, even for a short time, I might not
be able to stand the heart wrenching pain of seeing him leave again.
Another
exaggerated throat clearing caught her attention. The desk clerk had
reappeared. Drumming his fingers on the counter as he stared at her.
“I
have to go, honey. I’ll be home soon.”
“But,
Mom…”
“We’ll
talk then. Bye. I love you.”
Waiting
until Amanda responded in kind, she slid the phone back into her purse and
again stepped toward the counter. “Did you find something?”
“I
don’t have a standard room available for a full week on such short notice.
Starting tonight.” The look of irritation struck again.
She
totally ignored it. Customer service certainly was a lost art. “What do you
have available?” And please, please, please don’t tell me nothing.
He
peered intently at the screen, hit a couple of keys, and then peered again.
“The only type of room I do have available for that length of time on such
short notice is one of our suites—king-sized bed, two person in-room Jacuzzi
tub, plus a few other amenities, which goes for one ninety-nine per night. Plus
tax.”
Her
mouth dropped open, she reared slightly back and blinked. Sooo out of her price
range. Totally ridiculous to even consider. She’d have to teach an additional
class all summer to pay for it. Get a waitress job on the side or something as
well. Maybe this was a mistake after all.
I’ll
be home for Christmas
You
can count on me.
The
taunting lyrics of a new Christmas melody suddenly flowed out of invisible
speakers as if meant for her alone. Crooned in a deep, smooth, tenor voice, of
all things.
Please
have snow, and mistletoe
“I’ll
take it.” Slapping her credit card on the counter, she made sure to shove it
his way before she had a chance to change her mind. Which, considering the
alternative, she definitely would not do,
…find
me where the love light gleams
Resisting
the urge to cover her ears, she confirmed the reservation with her signature,
collected her card, then nodded her thanks to the clerk who was on the phone
again.
I’ll
be home for Christmas…if only
As
she hurried away, she made sure to shut the door tight behind her blocking out
the rest. Greeted by another blast of brisk, cold wind, she dodged a sudden
deluge of heavier snowflakes as she rushed back to her car.
No
way could she handle Home for Christmas ever again, not with one Dean Nichols.
It has to be hard, living like Mandy does, with an irreparably broken heart. My guess is Dean isn't faring much better. Come back tomorrow to find out for A Conflicted Christmas - Part Two. Plus, I have more short stories, available for free, on my WEBSITE
It has to be hard, living like Mandy does, with an irreparably broken heart. My guess is Dean isn't faring much better. Come back tomorrow to find out for A Conflicted Christmas - Part Two. Plus, I have more short stories, available for free, on my WEBSITE
17 comments:
Great start, Margo! I love Mandy's snark and am really looking forward to meeting Dean -- and Dean and Mandy together. :-)
Goodness, what in the world did Dean do? I'll be back tomorrow to find out. Once broken, hearts tend to mend slowly. Poor Mandy.
Great start, Margo. You piqued my curiosity. Can't wait until tomorrow to see where this is going.
Thanks, Leah. Come back tomorrow and you’ll get your wish.
So true, Vonnie. Once broken... Hope you give Dean the benefit of the doubt. ;-)
Thanks, Diane. See you tomorrow. Merry Day After Christmas.
I get her situation...after all those years together, he would easily fit into a Christmas scene...and bring back good memories. Which would hurt. Has the trappings of a mid-life crisis. Good set-up, Margo!
Good for Mandy, sticking up for herself and getting the room instead of caving to her daughters! I'll be back tomorrow!
Exactly, Rolynn. She’s very vulnerable right now. Glad you approve. ;-)
Uh-huh. She’s pretty determined, Jannine. Gotta love those daughters though, don’t cha?
I sure hope we find out what he did...and we can all forgive him!
Throwing exes together is kind of a trigger for me but I'm hoping Dean is redeemable. Until tomorrow!!
Ohhhhh...this is such a great start! I'm curious as to what he did. I'm proud of Mandy for sticking to her guns, so far. But, I have a feeling Dean is hard to resist. (That was my sweet daddy's name, by the way). :) Love this so far!
You will, Brenda...and he will. LOL
Exes can be where the story is, Robin. There’s always tomorrow.
Thanks, Ally. Mandy is motivated. Love the name Dean. Glad I struck a chord.
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