Christmas at the Chalet

by Anita Hughes

  “I don’t see the problem.” Gabriel glanced at the photos.

  “His texts were livid,” she said anxiously. “I can’t get hold of him to explain.”

  Gabriel opened a cupboard and took out a bottle. He found two glasses and poured large shots.

  “My father always keeps a bottle of schnapps around for emergencies.” He handed her a glass. “Your boyfriend broke up with you because you wanted to get married, and suggested you both see other people. Now he’s angry because you’re involved with another man? That doesn’t make much sense.”

  “I’m not involved with anyone,” she corrected. “It just looked like it from the photos. I don’t blame him for being mad. I’d be furious if I saw pictures of him on Facebook having dinner with another woman.”

  “You’re not the one who told him you needed a break,” he reminded her. “Did he expect you to wait patiently until he decides what he wants?”

  “It’s only been a day,” she said, wavering. “Maybe he thought something was going on before he gave me the ultimatum.”

  “Still, it was his idea. I don’t see why he’s upset.” Gabriel sipped the liqueur. “Unless there was a time stamp on the break. Like a carton of eggs with an expiration date.”

  “You know what it’s like when couples argue,” she sighed. “People say things they don’t mean. It happens all the time.”

  “So you don’t think he wanted to break up with you?”

  “He thinks he does, but he can’t be right,” she said uncertainly. “We’ve been together for six years. We had decided everything about our future: we’d live in Manhattan until I got pregnant, and then we’d move to Connecticut. We’d have two children, and if they were boys we might try for a girl.” She paused. “It would be lovely to design her wedding gown.”

  “You agreed on all these things, but you couldn’t agree on a date to get married?” Gabriel wondered aloud.

  “We talked about all those things,” Felicity said slowly. Had Adam agreed to them, or had she made all the plans while he never said yes or no? “I always assumed he wanted the same things. That’s what’s wonderful about our relationship.”

  “You Americans are supposed to be good at communicating,” Gabriel commented. “It seems neither of you were listening.”

  “We’re in love.” She looked at Gabriel. “That’s the most important thing in the world: when you wake up in the morning and you’re so happy because your favorite person is beside you. Or when you work all day and you can’t wait to share everything that happened.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been in love,” Gabriel said.

  “You’ve never been in love?” Her eyes were wide. “That’s impossible.”

  “There was a red-haired British girl when I was ten.” He swirled his glass. “She didn’t like Harry Potter, so that ended quickly. Then there was the dark-haired Italian girl I met when I was sixteen. We carved our initials in the pine tree near the gondola, and I thought we would last forever. The next day I saw her initials carved on the same tree beside the initials of Franz, the German ski instructor.”

  “What about when you were at college?” she asked.

  “When you’re a medical student, the only thing you long for is your bed,” he offered. “It has a never-ending allure because you see it so infrequently. I was too busy learning how the human body functioned to think about love.”

  “You’ll fall in love someday,” she said knowingly. “And then you’ll understand why you’d do almost anything to hang on to it. True love only happens once in a lifetime. If you let it go, you might never feel that way again.”

  “I suppose I will,” he ruminated. He looked at her closely and sipped his schnapps. “I don’t understand why you’re here. What can I do to help?”

  “I’m not sure exactly.” She leaned against the cushions. “All I know is that yesterday I fell and twisted my ankle, and I’d never been in so much pain. You’re a complete stranger, but you carried me inside and made me feel better.”

  “I’m a doctor; that’s what I do,” he reminded her. “But what does that have to do with Adam?”

  “It always helps to get an objective opinion,” she said carefully. “When you’re in a relationship, it’s hard to separate how you feel from the right thing to do. Haven’t you ever read the advice columns in the newspaper? I used to love reading Dear Abby; my mother saved all her columns. I even wrote to the advice columnist in Elle when I was having trouble with a college boyfriend.” Felicity smiled at the memory. “She replied that any boy who thinks a first date could include a stop at the laundromat to fold his socks isn’t worth seeing again.”

  “I’m a medical doctor,” Gabriel said, and chuckled. “I don’t know anything about giving relationship advice.”

  “You suggested I tell Adam how I felt, and you were right,” she continued. “I have to know if he’s ever going to ask me to marry him.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following you.” He looked puzzled. “You did tell Adam, and he said you should take a break. What are you going to do next?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” she said finally. “I thought you could tell me what you’d do if you were in my situation. It will help me see more clearly how I should respond to Adam.”

  “I’ve never met Adam. I don’t know anything about the two of you together.” He pondered. “I’d like to try to help, but I’m not sure I’ll say the right thing.”

  “You’re right—I won’t bother you again.” She stood up gingerly. “Thank you for everything. I hope I didn’t keep you from anything important.”

  “Look, why don’t we take a walk through the village?” Gabriel ruffled his hair. “We’ll get something to eat, and I can think of a way to help.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “Positive.” He took off his white coat and opened the door. “I’ve seen all the patients for the day, and I’d much rather sample bratwurst than write up a report on intestinal blockage due to eating too much Swiss cheese.”

  * * *

  They strolled onto the Via Maistra and Felicity shielded her eyes from the afternoon sun. The snow on the rooftops was pearl white, and the village teemed with shoppers. A tall Christmas tree was decorated with silvery ornaments, and the lampposts were tied with red bows.

  Felicity had never seen such vibrant skiwear: sweaters with geometric patterns, padded ski pants, brightly colored scarves. The shop windows reminded her of Dylan’s Candy Bar in New York, and she was dying to go inside and buy a turtleneck or a pair of gloves.

  They toured Heuberger Butcher, with its huge slabs of ham hanging from metal hooks. Felicity was grateful to Gabriel for showing her, but she confessed she’d rather see her sausage on a plate with a side of potato salad.

  He took her inside Glattfelder’s, and she admired glass cases filled with coffee beans and jars of caviar. They tasted dark-roast coffees with names like Verona and Sienna, and sampled imported caviar.

  “During World War Two, they had to keep the sale of caviar secret.” Gabriel spooned a drop of caviar onto melba toast. “If the Germans saw anyone leaving the shop with a jar, they knew they were rich, and confiscated all the money in their pockets.”

  “I could never spend two hundred dollars on fish eggs and salt.” Felicity took a small bite and grimaced. “I’d much rather eat a bowl of soup or a lamb chop.”

  They walked back onto the pavement, and Felicity glanced around. A man pulled a child on a toboggan; a woman in fur boots was carrying bags from Bogner.

  Gabriel noticed Felicity’s expression and frowned. “Are you all right? You look pale. I shouldn’t have suggested we go for a walk. You should be lying in bed with your foot up.”

  “I’m glad I came. I love seeing the shops, and if I was in my suite, I’d be checking my phone to see if Adam called,” she responded. “I’m just not used to the cold; every part of me is shivering.”

  “Why don’t we go to the Kulm Hotel?” he said. “It’s the o
ldest hotel in St. Moritz, and they serve an excellent afternoon tea.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?” Felicity asked, even though just the thought of hot tea made her feel warmer.

  “Everyone who comes to St. Moritz should try their chestnut puree with fresh whipped cream.” He took her arm. “It will be my treat. My last patient was a Dutch industrialist, and he tipped me one hundred Swiss francs.”

  * * *

  The Kulm Hotel resembled a fairy-tale castle with stone turrets and flags flying from different countries. A giant Christmas tree stood in the driveway, and valets sprinted between Bentleys and Range Rovers, unpacking luggage and ski gear.

  The lobby had crystal chandeliers and marble pillars and oriental rugs. There was a stone fireplace hung with stockings and gilt mirrors resting against the walls. Felicity rubbed her hands and couldn’t wait for a cup of hot tea.

  “The idea of winter holidays began in this lounge,” Gabriel said when they were seated on velvet chairs. There was a tray of meringues and slices of tiramisu served in porcelain cups. Felicity ate smoked salmon on pumpernickel and had never tasted anything so delicious.

  “The story goes that, in the summer of 1864, four Englishmen joined the owner of the Kulm Hotel for afternoon tea. He urged them to come back in December when the sun shone every day and snow covered the Alps. They were used to miserable British winters, and declined. The owner made a bet that if they didn’t enjoy it, he would reimburse their travel expenses.” Gabriel sipped Darjeeling tea. “They took him up on it and had such a good time, they stayed until April. That’s how winter holidays were born.”

  Felicity looked at Gabriel with curiosity. “I’ve lived in New York for ten years, and I wouldn’t know where to take tourists except the usual places like Rockefeller Center and the Met. How do you know so much about St. Moritz?”

  “I was born and raised here, and its history is fascinating,” he mused. “I enjoy showing it to someone new. It makes me appreciate the beauty.”

  “I thought you said St. Moritz was make-believe, and you’d rather live in the real world,” she reminded him. Her throat was soothed by the sweet tea, and for the first time since Adam sent the texts she felt almost happy and relaxed. As soon as she got back to the Badrutt’s Palace she would try to call him again or reply to his texts.

  “I’m a doctor; I want to help people.” Gabriel shrugged. “I didn’t pore over cadavers for years so I could learn how to remove a diamond earring from a little girl’s nose.”

  “Did that really happen?” Felicity burst out laughing.

  “Her mother wasn’t paying attention, so the girl plucked it out of her ear and stuck it up her nostril.” He sighed. “I don’t know who was more upset: the little girl because of the pain, the mother because she’d lost her favorite earring, or the father because he had to pay my fee and buy a new pair.”

  Felicity took a bite of chestnut puree and licked her spoon thoughtfully. She glanced at Gabriel and her face lit up in a smile.

  “You look like you just tasted whipped cream for the first time.” Gabriel buttered a scone.

  “The hotel is gorgeous, and the tea is piping hot, and you know so many interesting things.” She traced the rim of her cup. “For a moment I forgot everything that happened and was enjoying myself.”

  Gabriel leaned forward to refill her cup, and tea spilled on the tablecloth. They reached for a napkin at the same time and bumped their heads. Felicity sat back and rubbed her forehead. Suddenly she didn’t want the afternoon to end. She didn’t want to go back to the suite and worry about Adam, and if Camilla would accept her sketches for Bergdorf’s fashion show.

  “Could you do something for me?” she asked. “Could you tell me another folktale?”

  “You want me to tell you a folktale in the middle of the afternoon?”

  “It did such a good job of clearing my mind yesterday and not letting me worry about anything.” She looked at Gabriel. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to hear another one.”

  “I’ll tell you ‘How the Devil Crushed His Foot.’” He rubbed his chin. “It was one of my mother’s favorites.

  “An old and pious woman lived in the Verena Valley. She devoted her life to helping the poor, but as she reached her old age she could no longer deliver food or make clothing. She built a small hermitage and spent her days praying for the inhabitants’ well being.

  “The old woman’s prayers worked, and the devil realized he wasn’t capturing as many souls in the vicinity. He traveled to the hermitage to investigate and heard the old woman praying. When he saw what was going on, he decided to put a stop to it. He rolled a boulder from a cliff and positioned it over the woman’s head.

  “Just as he was about to deliver the fatal blow, the rock slipped and landed on the devil’s foot. He howled with pain and ran away, leaving the boulder where it fell. The woman lived to be one hundred, and the rock is still there, where people visit it today. My mother used to fix a picnic and we would go and eat it on the rock. She baked devil’s food cake just for the occasion.”

  Gabriel stopped talking. Felicity opened her eyes and noticed that their hands were close together.

  “That was a wonderful story.” She nodded and moved slightly. “I feel much better.”

  Gabriel glanced down as if he had just noticed his hand was next to Felicity’s. “I’m glad. I’ll ask for the check. It’s getting late; I still have to call in some medications.”

  * * *

  Felicity looked up from her sketchpad and gazed out the window of her suite. The sun was edging behind the mountain, and the clusters of fir trees were thick with snow. A snowmobile whizzed by, and Felicity heard people laughing.

  After afternoon tea at the Kulm Hotel, Gabriel had offered to walk her back to the hotel. She’d thanked him and said she could manage by herself. She made a cup of coffee and tried to work on a sketch for Camilla, but the oversized satin bow wasn’t working, and she had used the sweetheart neckline a dozen times before. She set it aside and wondered what Adam was doing in New York.

  It was five days until the fashion show, and there was so much to keep her busy. She had to make sure the models had the right lipsticks and eye shadows. Sometimes a model wore her favorite pink lipstick when Felicity instructed her to wear red, and the whole color scheme of her outfit was thrown off. And she needed to make sure there were shawls in the dressing room in case the models got cold while they waited for their turn on the runway.

  She wished she could tell Raj about the sketches for Camilla. But she had promised herself she wouldn’t say a word until after the fashion show. It would only make him more anxious, and there was nothing he could do to help. Either Camilla would love her designs and put them in the show, or all her work would be for nothing.

  And how should she reply to Adam’s texts? She had planned on texting him as soon as she arrived back at the suite, but she still wasn’t sure what to say. She closed her sketchpad and pulled off her sweater. First she would take a hot bath; then she would reply to his texts. She didn’t want to get it wrong; their whole future together depended on her response.

  Five

  Still Five Days Before the Fashion Show

  7:00 p.m.

  Nell

  NELL SAT AT A WINDOW table at La Stalla and gazed onto the Plazza dal Mulin. It was evening, and couples were strolling along the pavement deciding where to have dinner. There were so many choices: pizzerias with wood-burning ovens, and traditional Swiss restaurants with specialty cocktails and photos of celebrities on the walls.

  Today had been exhausting. Raj had insisted all the models meet at the gondola for the first run of the day. Nell wouldn’t have minded; she was excited about skiing the magic carpet. But what if her mother woke early and decided to stroll through the village? Or her father wanted to surprise Nell by joining her at Badrutt’s Palace for breakfast?

  She’d called the concierge and hastily arranged a spa morning for her mother. How could her mother say n
o to a Swiss full-body massage followed by an alpine herbal wrap? That would keep her occupied until the afternoon, and then Nell would be back from skiing. They could browse in the boutiques or go ice-skating on the lake.

  Her father wanted to spend as much time with her as possible; she couldn’t leave him alone all day. She sent him a text asking him to meet her at the Alpine Hut for lunch. Once he strapped on his skis and hit the slopes, he’d stay on the mountain all afternoon. Then she’d suggest he relax in the sauna and she’d meet him for a late dinner.

  “You’re here alone. I thought you’d be at the lodge resting after today’s skiing.” Felicity entered the restaurant. “Don’t tell me your parents already found out about each other. Your mother is at the train station, and your father called his pilot and is sitting on the plane.”

  “I must have been crazy,” Nell groaned. “I’m either going to get fat from eating two dinners every night, or I’ll be so exhausted I won’t be able to walk down the runway at the show.”

  “If I were you, I’d tell them the truth.” Felicity sat opposite Nell. “They’re adults; they have to learn to face each other.”

  “I can’t say anything yet,” Nell replied adamantly. “They’ve both made it perfectly clear they can’t breathe the same air. I’m no closer to convincing them to attend the wedding than when they arrived.”

  “What are you going to do?” Felicity dipped a breadstick in butter.

  “Last night my father and I had drinks at the Carlton Hotel.” Nell sipped her wine. “He told me about the night he met my mother. He pretended to be rich to impress her, but she saw right through him.” She paused. “When he started talking about her, I could tell they had really been in love.”

  “It’s easy to be in love in the beginning,” Felicity answered glumly. “It’s only when you can’t agree on anything that you have problems.”

  “Adam will come round.” Nell squeezed Felicity’s hand. “You should have heard my father talking about my mother when she was twenty. He sounded like a starry-eyed teenager meeting his movie-star crush.”