Page 17 of The Christmas Lodge
“No problem.” Derek pulled his phone from his coat pocket and glanced at the time, his eyes widening a little. “Annnd I’m late for a lesson. Sorry, I’ve got to run.”
Lacy waved him away, thanking him one last time before climbing up the front porch steps. She could hear the rumble of the truck as it powered to life and began the journey back down the hill. As she wandered among the boxes in her foyer, looking at all her supplies, she couldn’t help thinking about Derek.
A second pair of hands would be helpful right about now,she thought, then rolled her eyes at herself. As though she could hide her true feelings even from her own mind.That’s not why you wanted him to stick around, and you know it.
“I don’t know any such thing,” she announced to the silent house around her, then rolled her eyes again. “And now I’m talking to no one. Come on, Lacy, get yourself together.”
CHAPTERNINE
Colette always looked forward to Sunday evenings with Emma. In the summer they would sit out in the garden with some of Colette’s homemade lemonade, always garnished with fresh mint, of course. In the winters, they would sit by the fire and drink hot chocolate. Even though they saw each other every day, there was something special about Sunday evenings together—Emma was usually mellow and contemplative, and it was often a time that she would tell Colette stories from her younger years. This particular evening, Colette had decided to spice things up and add raspberry liqueur. She swirled fresh whipped cream on each mug, then sprinkled dark chocolate shavings on top to finish off the entire rich confection.
“Emma,” she called, “your hot chocolate is ready!”
She waited, but there was no response, no shuffling of Emma’s footsteps down the hall. Puzzled, Colette poked her head into the living room. Emma’s usual armchair was empty, her knitting half-finished and waiting in the basket beside her chair. Colette walked down the hall, checking the office and the guest bedroom, but there was no sign of Emma. Hearing a faint rustling sound, Colette tiptoed into Emma’s bedroom, and the rustling sound got louder. It sounded as though it was coming from her closet.
When Colette peeked inside, she didn’t see Emma right away. It wasn’t until she looked closer that she realized Emma was bent over and rummaging in the back corner of her walk-in closet. Her head and upper back were buried deep within the hanging clothes, leaving just her little rump poking out. Colette covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a laugh, although she couldn’t help but smile so big her eyes crinkled at the corners. Not wanting to scare Emma or embarrass her, she stepped back into the bedroom and knocked on the bedroom door.
“Emma? Are you in there?”
The rustling sounds stopped. “Yes, dear, come in.”
Colette stepped into the closet doorway again. Emma’s fluffy hair was poking out in all directions, ruffled from her foraging and Colette had to bite back another smile even as a wave of love for the old woman filled her heart nearly to bursting.
“There you are,” she said lightly. “Were you looking for something?”
Emma’s face tightened a little and she wouldn’t meet Colette’s eye. “No, no…”
“Well, I have your hot chocolate ready. Why don’t you come to the living room?”
Emma followed Colette down the hall and they were soon both settled in their armchairs, steaming mugs of hot chocolate in hand. Emma took a careful sip and then gave an approving nod, silently letting Colette know she approved of the new flavor. Colette took a sip of her own and sighed with pleasure.
Utter perfection, she thought, then took another long sip for good measure, licking the whipped cream off her lips.
Following Emma’s lead, she picked up her own knitting. She was nowhere near as fast as Emma, who had taught her to knit many years before, but she could hold her own. Between the two of them, they would have a massive stack of blankets to donate to those in need. While they knitted in companionable silence, Colette kept one eye on Emma.
Her surrogate mother had been distracted and closed off of late, and she was certain that Emma was hiding something inside, something she wasn’t yet ready to talk about. Her needles clicked along at an even more furious pace than usual, letting Colette know that Emma’s thoughts were whirring along just as fast. Colette could always gauge Emma’s mood by how she knitted.
Colette cleared her throat. “Nicholas Spielman’s granddaughter has come to town,” she said, careful to keep her voice casual. “Apparently he left her the house and she’s going to fix it up.”
The clacking of Emma’s knitting needles stopped entirely, her hands suddenly still in her lap. Colette glanced at Emma’s face and saw that Emma’s eyes had grown watery and sad. The sight alone confirmed the suspicions Colette had been harboring all week—Emma was mourning for Nicholas and thoughts of him must have been at the forefront of her mind lately.
“I knew that he had a granddaughter,” Emma finally said, her voice quiet and a little raspy. She picked up her knitting needles again and held them, but seemed to have forgotten that she was supposed to be knitting. A moment later, her needles dropped back into her lap. “He always hoped she would get in touch, but she never did. I certainly never met her in all my time with Nicholas.”
Colette took a sip from her mug, mulling Emma’s words over, then finally spoke gently. “Well, according to Derek, it seems like Lacy—that’s her name, by the way—doesn’t have a very favorable opinion of Nicholas.”
Emma’s brow puckered with deep concentration.
“Emma, is everything all right?”
“It’s just… hearing that Nicholas’s granddaughter is in town… I think he left something for her. I’m sure of it, but I just can’t seem to remember what it was…”
Seeing that Emma was becoming agitated, Colette reached out and patted Emma’s hand and the older woman stilled beneath her touch.
“Emma, hedidleave something to Lacy—the mansion.”
Emma shook her head vehemently. “No, it was something else. He asked me to keep it for him, but I can’t remember… ..” Her fingers began plucking anxiously at the knitting on her lap.
Colette picked up Emma’s mug and placed it gently in Emma’s hands to give her something to hold on to. Emma took a mechanical sip and relaxed against the back of her armchair.
