by Sara Grant
“It didn’t take us long to dislike Alexia.”
“Katrina started acting strange at the party yesterday,” I reminded Mackenzie.
“Yes, so?”
“What if she started acting weird because she spotted Alexia?”
“If they already know each other, it’s a pretty big coincidence to meet here.”
“We should keep an eye on those two,” I said.
Mackenzie glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Maybe you should keep an eye on the time. We better hurry or we are going to be late!”
Grandma had bought us these fancy red jumpsuits to wear to the party. She was really playing up the angle that we were cousins. I felt ridiculous in mine. I refused to wear the heart-shaped earrings, but I liked the matching bracelets with the Love Late in Life logo. Mackenzie loved all of it. I allowed her to do my hair. Nothing too girlie, just a complicated braid so I didn’t have to worry about my hair for the rest of the day. Once we were dressed, we climbed into our snowsuits, boots and gloves and carried our matching ballet flats.
We were supposed to make sure the guests were awake, deliver the day’s agenda, and direct them to the bath house. There was no such thing as ice toilets, thank goodness, so anyone who stayed overnight in an ice room had to shower and get ready in the nearby bath house, which was full of toilets, showers, changing rooms and storage rooms where their luggage was ready and waiting for them.
As we entered the courtyard, I bumped Mackenzie. “Thanks for earlier.”
“What?” She bumped me back.
“You know, about my mom.”
“Sorry I couldn’t find out more.”
“Thanks for trying.” I knew a bit more about my mom than I did yesterday. Maybe bit by bit I’d piece together the puzzle of my mom. “But no more secrets, OK?” I said.
When we passed the tower of ice with the resort logo, I noticed something was different. Something was frozen in one of the ice blocks. I’d passed it loads of times, and I never remembered seeing that before. As we walked closer, the frozen shape came into focus. But it couldn’t be. My mind was playing tricks. Mackenzie was right about my overactive imagination. I was seeing … no, wait. I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them again. But the gruesome image was still there. As we passed the sculpture, I knew what was frozen in the ice with grotesque certainty. It was a severed human finger!
“What’s wrong?” Mackenzie asked when I stopped frozen like one of Sven’s ice sculptures. Then she followed my line of sight and screamed. I covered her mouth with my gloved hand. We didn’t need to alert every guest, staff member, moose and polar bear in a mile radius that there was a massive problem.
She screamed.
And screamed.
And screamed some more.
I tried to pull her away, but our eyes were glued to the strange sight. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”
“For a-a s-s-severed…” she stammered.
Then we heard it. Faint snickers at first and then full-on belly laughs. I gritted my teeth. We’d been pranked.
“Ha! Ha!” Half of TnT sprang from hiding.
“Gotcha again!” The other half pointed his gloved, attached finger at us.
“Oh!” Mackenzie shrieked, still stunned. “You! I should … Horrible. Mean.”
The adrenaline surge of finding a body part on ice fizzled and was replaced by white-hot anger. “I’m going to kill you,” I shouted and lunged at the boys. Mackenzie held me back.
“Now we are even,” TnT said in unison.
“We are far from even.” I spat the words at them and watched the big goofy grins fade from their lips. “It’s your turn to be scared. You better watch out.”
“What’s going on here?” Mr Ashworth bellowed from the lodge.
TnT bolted like scared rabbits.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Sorry,” Mackenzie called. Mr Ashworth shrugged and disappeared back inside.
As we walked to the ice hotel, I realized that I was furious that I’d been so easily tricked and admired TnT a bit for such a well-planned prank. “So what should we do to retaliate?”
“I vote for freezing their pants,” Mackenzie replied.
“Nice one,” I said. “Where did that idea come from? You don’t really seem like the prankster type.”
“You learn a lot at boarding school,” she said with a devious smirk.
“Pickled herring in their boots?”
“Hair-removal cream in their shampoo?”
“That’s a bit harsh.”
She smiled. “They may be TnT, but we’re like…”
“The A-bomb.”
We traded prank ideas until we reached the ice hotel. All the guests were awake, and we delivered the day’s agendas. Our next duty was to help prepare the lodge’s main dining hall for lunch and the arrival of the Melting Your Hearts competition winners. Ten men and women over sixty-five, and their grandchildren, had won all-expenses-paid trips to the Winter Wonder Resort this weekend. We ditched our snow gear in our room and then headed to the dining hall.
The hall had twinkly heart-shaped lights strung from the ceiling. Red rose petals were scattered everywhere like confetti. Grandma was organizing something on a skirted table by the entrance. Shauna was setting out heart-shaped centrepieces made of red, pink and white roses. Mackenzie nudged me in Grandma’s direction. “Perfect time to get some answers.”
“She looks busy,” I said, suddenly nervous to talk to my own grandma.
“She’s always busy,” Mackenzie replied. “Go help her out and slip in a few questions. I’ll keep everyone out of your way.”
“Thanks,” I said, but didn’t move.
“Go!” She nudged me forward, and I stumbled towards Grandma.
“Good morning, darling.” Grandma gave me a quick hug. “Can you finish alphabetizing the nametags?”
“No prob,” I said, scattering the bag of nametags on the table. I found my grandma’s quickly, because it had a special red border. “Do you want yours now?”
“Thanks.” She clipped it on to her expensive silk, rose-print blouse. It was no accident that it matched the colours of the centrepieces exactly.
I had to think of a way for Grandma to tell me my mom’s last name, but I couldn’t ask directly. Grandma would clam up like she always did, if I asked her point-blank about my mom. “So am I a Sinclair?”
Grandma squinted at me. She did that a lot. I wasn’t sure if she didn’t understand my American accent or didn’t understand me. A little of both probably. “Oh, yes, I guess you are,” she said.
“Is that your real last name?”
More squinting.
“You know, were you born Ariadne Sinclair?” I concentrated on moving the nametags around. I was afraid she could read my real motivation in the twitching of my eye.
“Yes, Sinclair is my family name,” she said, as she checked the contents of each welcome packet. “I never saw the point of taking any of my husbands’ names.”
Now we were getting somewhere. “Husbands?” I tried to sound like I was teasing her. This was no big deal. Not a fact-finding mission. Just playful banter between grandmother and granddaughter.
“I’ve had my fair share,” she said.
“What is a fair share?” I asked.
Grandma stopped what she was doing. I’d pushed too hard. I’d blown it. Disappointment stung my insides.
“Four,” she said with a laugh. “That’s my limit.”
“Four,” I repeated and remembered what Mackenzie had said about a rock star boyfriend. “Anyone I’d know?”
Her eyes glazed as if a movie of her past loves was playing in the distance. “Liam McDonald, Niall Murphy, and Harry Thompson,” she said after a long pause.
I repeated their names in my head. One of them was my grandfather. Then I realized, “That’s three.”
“Louis Archer,” she said with a sigh. “He was my first and one true love.”
A weird thing
to say after naming three other husbands. “Is Louis Archer my grandfather?”
She squinted at me again. “Yes.”
“Could I meet him?”
Tears welled in her eyes. She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, my darling.”
She didn’t need to say it. Louis Archer was dead. A gumball-sized lump formed in my throat and prevented me from asking anything else. I was suddenly sad. Sad that Grandma had lost her one true love and sad that I’d never meet my grandpa.
She cocked her head and studied me. One solitary tear escaped down her cheek. “He would have liked you,” she whispered. “He would have liked you a lot.” Grandma cleared her throat and wiped her eyes. “I better check in with the chef.”
I felt terrible that I’d made Grandma cry. I didn’t mean to. I wondered if Grandma realized she’d given me a vital clue about my mom. Beatrice Archer. Now I knew her full name.
We’d only checked in half of the Melting Your Hearts guests and my cheeks already ached from smiling. The pensioners received their nametags, and we helped them download the app. Adriane and Shauna wanted to show the VIPs how the app would work. While the grandkids had a separate itinerary that included visiting the ice maze, sledding, skating and skiing, the old folks were treated to speed-dating the Love Late in Life way. I couldn’t wait to ditch the old folks and have some fun outdoors.
“Help yourself to the buffet,” Mackenzie said, her smile never faltered even though she’d said it a million times already. “The programme will start in a few minutes.”
I ducked behind Mackenzie. “Don’t look now but it’s your BFF Alexia,” I whispered. I’d be happy never to see that drama queen again.
Alexia pushed to the front of the line.
“Good afternoon, Alexia,” Mackenzie said. “Here’s your nametag.”
“How’s your grandmother?” I asked, poking at a sore spot.
“Fine, I guess,” she said as if it didn’t matter. “She texted me late last night. How absolutely rude to leave me like that. Is she here?”
“No, not yet,” I said. “She’s probably still enjoying the peace and quiet.”
Mackenzie elbowed me in the ribs. “Is that Michael Kors?” Mackenzie indicated Alexia’s oversized pink handbag.
“It’s so last season, but I didn’t want to bring anything good to this place.” Her tone was sour.
“Help yourself to the buffet,” Mackenzie said, her tone twice as bouncy as before.
“Buffet? Seriously?” Alexia moaned.
I edged around Mackenzie ready to give this brat a piece of my mind, but Mackenzie blocked me.
“I’m absolutely ravenous. Haven’t had a decent thing to eat since I arrived in this God-forsaken place. Can you tell me what’s on the buffet? I have allergies and need to be ever-so careful. I hope the chef has been apprised of my dietary restrictions.”
Mackenzie showed Alexia her lunch ticket. “It clearly notes that you are allergic to shellfish. The kitchen has been instructed, and no shellfish is on the menu.”
Alexia pinched the edges of her ticket as if it was covered in goo and sauntered off to have her lunch. Shauna and the chef were arranging the serving dishes on the buffet. Katrina was filling her plate. I remembered Alexia and Katrina’s fight this morning. This could get interesting. While Mackenzie checked in the next few guests, I watched Alexia. She was like the token mean girl on every reality show that you loved to hate and had to watch.
“I’ve lost my appetite,” Katrina said and handed the plate to Shauna.
Alexia marched right over and snatched the plate out of Shauna’s hand. “Some people are so wasteful,” Alexia said, loud enough for the entire room to hear. “They throw away something that’s perfectly satisfactory. Not just food, people too.”
Everyone stared at Alexia and Katrina.
“You should know,” Katrina replied and walked as far away from Alexia as she could.
The show was over. I returned to work.
“I’m David Johnson.” A silver-haired man walked over to the registration table. He was handsome for a grandpa with dimples that made him seem boyish.
“Welcome!” Mackenzie gave her Melting Your Hearts speech.
“This is my grandson, Blake,” the man said, gesturing to the empty space beside him. He spun around, searching for his missing grandson. “He was just here.”
I handed him the last two nametags.
“It’s the strangest thing,” Mr Johnson continued.
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” I said, trying to help.
“No, not that,” the man continued. “I don’t remember entering this competition. I’ve never won anything before.”
“Congratulations,” Mackenzie said with her perkiness in overdrive. “I hope you and your grandson have a lovely time.”
“Is that your grandson?” I asked when I spotted a guy with the same dimples peeking from behind the human-sized ice sculpture of the Love Late in Life logo that was near the door to the dining hall.
“There you are,” Mr Johnson said and waved his grandson over. Blake darted from his hiding place and stood in his grandpa’s shadow. “This is … I didn’t get your names.”
“I’m Chase and this is my cousin Berkeley,” I piped up afraid that Mackenzie would be too distracted by a cute boy to remember her cover story.
“Hi,” Mackenzie said in a soft sing-song voice. She twisted on her tiptoes.
Argh! Was she flirting again? “The buffet is over there. Help yourself.” I handed them their lunch tickets.
“I’m not really hungry.” Blake turned to go.
“We’ve been travelling for ages,” Mr Johnson said. “You need to eat.”
Blake followed his grandpa to the buffet. “Don’t you think it’s weird how he hides behind his grandpa?” I whispered to Mackenzie.
“I think he’s cute,” she murmured. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Love early in life.
“Let’s eat!” I looped my arm through Mackenzie’s.
“The itinerary says we are stationed at the registration table until—”
“Everyone has checked in, and I’m hungry,” I said, but Mackenzie didn’t budge. “Ariadne and Shauna want us to keep up our strength. And look: there’s a whole table of desserts.” That’s all it took. We were on the move.
Alexia, who was posed like a model in the middle of the room, stopped us as we passed. “Girls, this food tastes absolutely diabolical.” She sneered and poked a cheese puff with a celery stick.
“We’re off duty,” I said. “Tell someone who cares.” She’d complain about anything. Her diamonds were probably too sparkly and her boyfriend too handsome and her mansion simply too big.
“Sorry,” Mackenzie apologised on my behalf. “I’ll tell the chef,” she called to Alexia as I dragged her towards the buffet.
“You!” Alexia shrieked. I shouldn’t have insulted her, but she was a total diva. I cringed and waited for an Alexia explosion until I realized that she was staring at someone behind me. Her face scrunched in confusion. “What are you…” She began to cough. Not like a dainty cough either but a full-on, smoker’s hacking cough.
Her plate toppled out of her hand and crashed to the floor. Then as if in slow motion, she staggered left and then right. She was wheezing and gasping for air. She collapsed on to a table, clawing a fistful of roses from the centrepiece as she slid to the floor. A broken mannequin in a puddle of petals.
“Everyone back up,” Shauna shouted as she rushed to Alexia, diving for her like a baseball player stealing home base.
Mackenzie grabbed my arm, accidentally digging her sparkly red nails into me. “I don’t think she’s breathing,” she whispered as if a loud voice might make it true. Shauna was moving Alexia into the recovery position.
“No, she’s fine,” I reassured Mackenzie, but I was far from sure of that. Exclamation marks were pinging in my brain, trying to tell me something, but all I could do was look on in horror.
“Call an ambul
ance,” Shauna yelled at Grandma when she broke through the crowd.
Grandma already had her cell phone in her hand. “What’s the number? What do I call?”
“One-one-two!” someone with a Swedish accent responded.
“I’ve already called an ambulance,” Mr Ashworth yelled from somewhere. “I’ll get the first aid kit. Ariadne, alert security and the front desk.” Grandma muscled through the crowd towards the front door.
I wasn’t sure that Band-Aids and aspirin were going to help Alexia. Something was really wrong. Shauna brushed a stray curl away from Alexia’s face and whispered into Alexia’s ear, probably telling her not to worry. Alexia had landed on and broken her plate. Two red streaks coloured her cheek. Food was smeared all over and around her.
The panicked fog cleared from my brain. That was it. The food. Alexia’s allergies. “Berkeley, find Alexia’s handbag.”
We brushed back the crowd, scanning the floor for a pink handbag. “Got it!” Mackenzie held it up.
“Here!” I raised my hands to catch it. I dumped the contents on the floor. “EpiPen,” I told Mackenzie as we fell to our hands and knees and searched through the mountain of make-up, loose change, phone, perfume, but no EpiPen.
She had to have one. Someone with a serious food allergy always carried an EpiPen. I fumbled with the handbag, feeling in every pocket and compartment. Finally, “I got it!”
I lurched for Alexia with the EpiPen in hand. I’d taken a first aid class, and a girl in my elementary school had multiple allergies. I’d watched her use an EpiPen once after a parent brought in peanut butter cookies. “Let me through,” I told Shauna who was protectively curled around Alexia.
I formed a fist around the EpiPen and pulled off the safety cap. I must have looked like a serial killer ready to strike as I raised the injector.
“What are you doing?” Shauna shouted and batted me away.
“Alexia has food allergies. This could be anaphylactic shock,” I said. If it was a food allergy, I had to act quickly or Alexia could die.
“Chase, back away.” Shauna shoved me in the chest.
“Help me,” I begged Mackenzie and nodded in Shauna’s direction. “Trust me.” Mackenzie did as I asked, wrapped her arms around Shauna and pulled her away.