Page 34 of Healing Hearts at the Christmas Inn
"What are you going to make?" Trinity asked, already sorting through the wooden shapes.
"I have no idea," Charlie admitted. "What about you?"
"Something for Dad." Trinity's voice was quiet, but determined. "So he knows I'm thinking about him."
Charlie's throat tightened. She reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind Trinity's ear. "He's going to love whatever you make."
Holly had gone quiet on Trinity’s other side, her hands hovering over the supplies but not quite touching them. Charlie knew that look. Her sister was thinking about Gabe, about how long it had been since she'd seen her son, about the empty chair at every holiday gathering.
"Hey," Charlie said softly. "He's okay. And he'll be home eventually."
"I know." Holly picked up a star-shaped blank decoration and turned it over in her hands. "I just wish it were sooner."
The workshop leader clapped her hands, drawing everyone's attention, and launched into instructions. Charlie let herself get swept up in it, the simple pleasure of choosing colors and deciding on designs. She picked a round ornament and started painting it deep blue, adding silver stars in a pattern that reminded her of the night sky over the island.
Beside her, Trinity worked with intense concentration, her tongue poking out slightly as she painted careful strokes across her wooden snowflake. Holly had chosen a bell shape and was painting it soft gold, her movements slow and meditative.
At the table next to them, an older woman leaned over. "Is this your First time visiting the Christmas Inn?"
Charlie looked up, surprised. "How did you know?"
The woman smiled. "Jane mentioned this morning that they had new guests when my husband and I went there for breakfast. Word travels fast on the island." She held out a paint-covered hand, then thought better of it and laughed. "I'm Martha. I've lived here forty years."
"Charlie Burke." Charlie gestured to her sister and niece. "This is Holly and Trinity."
"Lovely to meet you." Martha's eyes were kind, curious in the way of small-town residents who genuinely cared about newcomers rather than just being nosy. "How are you enjoying the inn?"
"It's beautiful," Holly said, and there was genuine warmth in her voice. "We only arrived last night, but already it feels special."
Martha's expression grew wistful. "It is special. Or it was. That place used to be the heart of the island's Christmas celebrations." She returned to painting her ornament, a delicate angel. "Every holiday, really. Christmas, New Year's, Valentine's Day, Easter, Fourth of July, Halloween, Thanksgiving. The Christmas family hosted something for all of them."
Charlie exchanged a glance with Holly. "Used to be?"
"Oh, they still do lovely work," Martha said quickly. "Isabella's restaurant there is phenomenal. Best food on the island, hands down. But the big events..." She shook her head. "Those stopped when James Christmas passed. Such a shame. He was a wonderful man. Had this energy about him, you know? Like he could make magic happen just by believing in it hard enough."
Trinity had stopped painting, listening intently. "What kind of events?"
Martha's face lit up. "Oh, sweetheart, they were spectacular. The Winter Ball was the biggest. Black tie, live orchestra, dancing until midnight. People came from all over Florida. And the Easter egg hunt covered the entire property, hundreds of eggs hidden everywhere. Halloween had costume contests in the great ballroom with prizes for all ages. Valentine's Day was a dinner dance that sold out months in advance." She sighed. "James Christmas knew how to celebrate life."
"What happened?" Holly asked gently. "After he passed?"
"The heart went out of the place, I suppose." Martha dipped her brush in white paint, adding details to the angel's wings. "His wife Julie tried to keep things going for a while, but it wasn't the same without him. And then Jack had his troubles with his business, and Jane..." She trailed off, something sad crossing herface. "Well, life has a way of knocking us down sometimes. The inn's still standing, still beautiful, but it's like the soul of it went quiet."
Charlie felt something tighten in her chest. She thought about the inn as they'd seen it last night, glowing with lights and warmth. But she remembered what else she'd noticed too. The careful patches, the clever disguises for worn spots, the lack of guests despite all those beautiful rooms. The bustling restaurant, but otherwise quiet halls.
"Do they still do any of the holiday events?" Trinity asked, her voice small.
Martha shook her head. "Not the big ones. They'll have a nice Christmas dinner in the restaurant, I'm sure. Isabella always does. But nothing like it used to be." She smiled, but it was tinged with melancholy. "Still, it's worth staying there just to see the place. It's got history in every floorboard. And the Christmas family, they're good people. They've been through a lot, but they're survivors."
The conversation shifted to other topics as they continued working, but Charlie's mind stayed on what Martha had said. The inn struggling. The Christmas family was just hanging on.
They finished their ornaments and let them dry while they got coffee from the station set up near the back. Trinity clutched her snowflake carefully, already planning where she'd pack it so it would stay safe until she could give it to her father.
"What do you think?" Holly asked quietly, standing close to Charlie near the coffee urn.
“I think that I need an updated art class.” Charlie laughed, glancing at her ornament on the table.
“No… well, okay, so I’ve seen you do better decorating an ornament,” Holly laughed.
