Page 37 of The Christmas Eve Delivery

I knew Tony asked in all innocence. But I had to take a moment before answering him before I did something rash and jumped down his throat. I couldn’t afford to have him quit with the porch only halfway painted.

I bit into a pickle spear, giving myself the few moments I needed to regain some form of composure.

“I’m not selling. This place was my mom’s,” I started. “I lost her when I was young, too young. She loved this place.”

“Did it come from your family? Or did she buy it?”

“A little of both. It was in my father’s family.”

“So, it was your parents’ inn?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Just Mom. So my dad was some kind of deadbeat loser, and his own family didn’t even like him. So after he left town with his girlfriend, his great uncle who owned Sweet Mountain asked if my mom wanted to run the place. I guess at some point, he had plans on my father being the one to take over, but everyone disowned him.”

“So he just gave the place to your mother?”

“Technically, he sold it to her for one dollar, or maybe it was five dollars. There was something about not having to pay inheritance tax or something by doing that. And that’s when we moved in.”

“You have a really good memory,” Tony said.

“Hardly. I was too young when all of that happened. I remember what people told me.”

“So your great-great uncle made sure you got the family inn,” Tony said.

“I guess so. I had never really thought of it that way. Wow, I guess it has been in my family the whole time. You know, I tend to think of Mom and Aunt Ruth as family and my father as someone who just happened to me. But his family history is mine.”

This new revelation would be a great piece of information to include in all those grant applications.

“Now I really need to save the old girl. Not only do I see Mom in all the details, but I’ve got a family history to maintain.” I stood, my food finished.

Tony handed me his empty plate. I carried the dishes in one hand and bent to pick up a bucket of drywall joint compound. A new delivery had come in earlier, three five-gallon buckets, and was taking up space on the porch. It was heavy, but I could get it inside one-handed. After that, I’d have to put it down, take the dishes to the kitchen, and come back to carry it with both hands.

“Let me get that for you. You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things in your condition.”

I set the bucket down with a thunk. “My condition? That obvious, huh? I can still carry heavy things.”

He started hemming and hawing. “I mean, no, not really obvious. Well, I’ve been watching the way you move all week. Couldn’t help but notice, and well…”

I grimaced. Couldn’t help but notice? Yikes.

“I’ve heard some folks talking,” he said. “I normally don’t pay that kind of chatter any attention, but then seeing you…”

I nodded. The rumor mill had me in its grasp. “People would figure it out eventually,” I said. “It’s not like I’m not up there parading in front of meetings every other week. Someone was bound to notice. I thought it wouldn’t be noticeable for a bit.”

Tony bent and lifted two of the buckets as if they didn’t weigh a thing. “Where do you want these?”

I pointed to the floor. “Put those down. I’m perfectly capable of moving the buckets. What I can’t do is climb up on a ladder and paint. You paint, I’ll move the buckets.”

He gave me a bit of side eye, but he set the buckets down.

I took the dishes to the kitchen before returning to the porch to grab the drywall joint compound. I moved the three buckets, one at a time. But I did it. It would have been easier to let Tony drag them in. He was clearly stronger than I was. But I wasn’t going to let this pregnancy get in the way of pursuing my dreams of getting this inn back into shape.

This place had been Mom’s pride and joy. I wanted to honor her. I wanted to think she was watching me and being proud of my choices. Okay, maybe getting knocked up hadn’t been the best plan. But it wasn’t planned, thus proving the wholefailing to plan is planning to failidiom. Mom raised me on her own. I liked to think she wouldn’t judge me too harshly. I knew there were more than enough people in this town who would. I guess it was time to confess to Evie about this pregnancy. Of course, if Tim knew, Evie already knew.

20

MILES

Several months later…

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