Christmas in Icicle Falls

by Sheila Roberts

  “So, what do you want me to do now?”

  Go away? “Oh, I can’t think of anything.”

  “There must be something. It’s a big place. Brandon says you guys all take turns working the front desk. I can do that.”

  Thank you, Brandon. About the last thing Olivia wanted was her daughter-in-law showing off her lack of social graces at the front desk. “That’s kind of you to offer, but you don’t need to.”

  “Hey, I’m family, right? Gotta pitch in. Anyway, I think it will be fun to help people check in and out.”

  “Meadow, I’m not sure that particular job would be a fit for you.”

  Meadow’s sunny expression clouded over. “Why? It can’t be that hard. And I’m not stupid,” she added. “I did two quarters at Seattle Community College.”

  “It’s not a matter of intelligence,” Olivia said. “It’s a matter of fit.”

  Olivia could hardly say she thought Meadow was uncouth. She was about to finesse the truth with a little speech about how different temperaments were suited for different jobs, but Meadow dashed in a literal direction before she could get the words out.

  “Fit for what? Oh, clothes?”

  Olivia grabbed on the flimsy excuse. “You do need a dirndl.”

  “Like what you’ve got on.” Meadow made a face.

  “This is a German-themed town. Business owners dress the part,” Olivia said firmly. And if a certain ripped-jeans wearer didn’t want to do that, it wasn’t Olivia’s fault.

  Meadow ditched the frown and shrugged. “Okay, then. I’m up for it. How about we go get one today?”

  Olivia tried a new tack. “Are you sure you want to do this? Manning the booth requires a certain amount of...” couth “...patience and diplomacy.”

  “Sure,” Meadow said. Brandon chose that moment to come inside and she called, “Hey, babe. I’m gonna learn how to work the front desk.”

  “You’ll be great,” he called back.

  Olivia sincerely doubted it. Here was proof positive that love was blind.

  She’d give the girl a chance, though. Everyone deserved a chance. But if Meadow got lippy with a customer, she’d be back to bussing tables.

  The lodge wasn’t that busy and check-in wasn’t until three. Das Dorf, which carried all manner of German items, including dirndls, was open on Tuesdays. Irmgard Schultz, the owner, would be more than happy to help Olivia outfit Meadow.

  “All right,” Olivia said. “How about we go after lunch?”

  And with that it was settled, so at one in the afternoon Olivia and Meadow walked into the German shop that sat right in the middle of Center Street, the main drag, where some of the town’s most popular shops could be found.

  “I haven’t been in here yet,” Meadow said as they entered the shop. “Whoa, look at these.” They were barely in the store when she stopped in front of a display case filled with Hummel figurines. “Look at that cute one with the umbrella—wow.” This was quickly followed by wide eyes and a muttered “Shit.”

  “What?” Olivia asked.

  “Those things are expensive,” Meadow whispered, pointing to the price tag at the figurine’s feet.

  “Hummels are. You have expensive tastes.”

  “I guess. Who knew I had such good taste? Well, except that I picked Brandon. He’s got a lot of class.”

  Something you either had or you didn’t, and Meadow didn’t. She had, however, shown good taste in marrying Brandon. There was no denying that.

  Irmgard came toward them now. She was in her late sixties, with a round face and an equally round figure to match. Her light brown hair was ratted into a style left over from the early ’60s and she wore a green dirndl.

  “Olivia, it’s been ages,” she said. “And who is this with you?”

  “This is my new daughter-in-law, Meadow.”

  “Ah, I heard Brandon got married. Such a lovely girl,” she said, looking Meadow up and down. “But much too skinny. Don’t worry, though. Your mother-in-law can make strudel almost as good as mine. She’ll get some meat on your bones in no time.”

  Meadow’s brows shot up. “Uh, thanks. I think.”

  “We need a dirndl for Meadow. She’s going to be helping out at the lodge,” Olivia explained.

  “Of course she is. Families stick together.”

  A not-so-subtle message from the universe?

  “Well, they should, anyway,” Irmgard continued. “My daughter—” here Irmgard gave a sorry shake of the head “—she married a man from Texas. Texas, can you imagine? It’s so hot down there. And they all speak with an accent,” she added in her clipped Germanized English. “Now it’s only me here. Olivia, you don’t know how lucky you are to have both your boys with you. And now a new daughter-in-law. Oh, how I wish my Alfred would get married and move up here.”

  Be careful what you wish for.

  “And now that you’re working at the lodge, you’re truly part of the family,” Irmgard said to Meadow. “So, let’s see what we can find you. I think something in blue. Don’t you, Olivia? Blondes always look pretty in blue.”

  “Yes, blue,” Olivia agreed.

  “What size are you? I’m guessing a six?”

  Meadow nodded and trailed Irmgard over to a rack of dresses. A few moments later she had an armful and Irmgard had sent her to a changing room.

  “What a lovely girl,” she said to Olivia.

  “She’s very pretty,” Olivia agreed.

  “And so sweet—and wanting to help out with the family business. Ah, you are so lucky.”

  She’s right, Olivia reminded herself. Both her boys were back home. She had one daughter-in-law who was perfect and another who...wanted to be here. That counted for a lot. So what if that daughter-in-law wasn’t exactly her cup of cocoa? Meadow loved Brandon and wanted to be part of things. Surely that balanced out laziness, crudeness and a lack of tact.

  The little dressing room curtain parted and out stepped Meadow in the blue dirndl, a very odd match with her overdyed hair and the butterfly tat that soared up over the neckline.

  “Oh, doesn’t she look pretty?” gushed Irmgard.

  “I look stupid,” Meadow muttered, pulling at one of the puffy sleeves.

  This was not the time to agree with her daughter-in-law. “You’ve got the perfect figure for that dress,” Olivia said. It was true. Meadow was slim and pretty in her own flamboyant way. “But maybe you’d like a different color.”

  Meadow looked like she’d just eaten a rotten nut. “I don’t think that’ll make any difference.”

  “We can find other things for you to do at the lodge if you don’t want to wear it,” Olivia offered. She could tell Brandon she’d tried. Meadow didn’t want to wear the dress.

  “No, no,” Meadow said quickly. “I’ll get it.”

  Olivia had to admire her for her willingness to step outside her comfort zone just to be part of the family operation. Give her a chance. She might surprise you. “All right. It really does look beautiful.”

  A few moments later Meadow was back in her clothing comfort zone and Olivia was pulling out her credit card to purchase the dirndl. “Actually, we’d better get two so you have one to wear when that one’s getting washed.”

  “Okay,” Meadow said. “But I’m paying.”

  “Oh, no. This is my treat.”

  “I really don’t mind. Anyway, I’ve got some money left from my mom’s—um, that my mom gave me.”

  Interesting. What had she been about to say? Her mom’s what?

  “What a good daughter-in-law,” said Irmgard.

  “Let me buy these for you,” Olivia said to Meadow. As if buying a couple of dresses would make up for her unmotherly attitude.

  “No, I’ve got it,” Meadow insisted and handed over three larg
e bills. “I’ll take the red one, too.”

  Mission accomplished, the two women drove back to the lodge. “Thanks for taking me,” Meadow said.

  “Not much thanks needed since you wound up paying for the dresses yourself.” Olivia really should have insisted on paying for them.

  “It’s okay,” Meadow said. “I didn’t mind. And now when we get back, I can work the front desk,” she added cheerfully.

  “This will be a good day to start,” Olivia said. Check-in time was right around the corner and they had some guests arriving that afternoon. It being early in the week, there wouldn’t be so many that Meadow would get overwhelmed as she learned the ropes.

  If Meadow could master some social graces, it would be good to have an extra pair of hands. Now that December had arrived, the lodge was going to be full on weekends clear into the New Year.

  So would every B and B and motel in town. This was peak tourist season thanks, in part, to a yearly town tradition that had quickly become a tourist attraction. Now, every weekend during the month of December Icicle Falls hosted a tree-lighting ceremony and people came from all over the country to join the locals to watch the big tree in the center of town and all the surrounding buildings come alive with colored lights. The ceremony preceding the big moment was usually brief, but people loved it since it included caroling and a visit from Santa, who had plenty of grown-up helper elves on hand to pass out mini candy canes to all the children. The partying started well before the ceremony began, with vendors selling everything from roasted nuts to hot chocolate, local artisans displaying their works and, of course, a German oompah band playing. Skaters enjoyed the little ice rink in the town-center park, while shoppers swarmed the specialty shops and restaurants. It was a mob scene, with the streets and sidewalks packed, but that didn’t stop people from coming in droves. And the residents of Icicle Falls welcomed it because it kept their local economy humming.

  It didn’t take Meadow long to change into her new dress and when she reported for duty at the desk, she was smiling. “Brandon thinks I look hot in this,” she announced, clearly feeling much more confident in the outfit than she had in the store.

  “Well, that’s...good,” Olivia said. For such a slender little thing Meadow certainly had cleavage and, yes, the low-cut neckline showed it to advantage.

  “So, what do I have to do?” Meadow asked.

  “Make sure you swipe the guests’ credit cards when they come in. We don’t charge them until checkout but we keep the card information. We have our guests fill out this little form with contact information and their driver’s licenses. Each couple or family checking in gets two room-key cards. Oh, and we always tell them the hours breakfast is served.”

  “I can handle that.”

  “And, of course, we greet everyone with a smile. If a guest has a complaint, we’re always sympathetic. We never get upset.”

  Meadow frowned. “I know what you’re thinking about. It’s not like I spilled gravy on that man on purpose. Sheesh. He was a shit.”

  “I know. Sometimes people can be unreasonable. But we’re in a service industry. Serve is what we do. Our job here is to keep our guests happy. So, if anyone ever comes to the desk with a complaint you feel you can’t handle, don’t get upset with them—just come find me. Okay?”

  Meadow nodded. “Fine with me. I don’t like dealing with shits.”

  Hopefully, no shits would cross Meadow’s path when she was on duty. Olivia vowed right then to limit her time at the desk as much as possible.

  Their first guests arrived right at three o’clock, the official check-in time. They were a middle-aged couple, the woman bundled in a faux-fur coat, leggings and boots, her silver hair stylishly cut. Her husband, swarthy and handsome, wore a parka and jeans.

  “Fortelli,” he said, stepping up to the desk. “We’re booked for the week.”

  Meadow smiled at him. “Nice to have you, Mr. Fortelli.”

  Mrs. Fortelli, who was standing right next to him, frowned.

  “And Mrs. Fortelli, too,” Olivia added.

  “Oh. Yeah. Of course,” Meadow said and gave the missus a smile, as well. The missus almost returned it.

  “So,” Meadow said briskly, shoving a form at him, “give us your car license number and all that good stuff. And we’ll need your credit card. But don’t worry. We won’t charge you until you leave.” The man handed over his credit card. “Fortelli, that’s a cool name. It’s, like, Italian, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is,” he said.

  “Have you been to Italy?” she asked, and Olivia felt rather pleased with Meadow’s attempt at pleasant small talk.

  “Several times,” said Mr. Fortelli.

  “I’ve always wanted to go to Italy,” Meadow said. “Somebody told me Italian men pinch you,” she added with a grin.

  Mr. Fortelli handed back the completed form. “Italian men do appreciate beautiful women,” he said. Now there wasn’t even a hint of a smile on Mrs. Fortelli’s face.

  “Oh, yeah? Then I definitely need to go. Make my guy jealous.” Meadow dealt efficiently with the credit card, then handed it back. She leaned on the desk, giving Mr. Fortelli a close-up view of Butterfly Mountain. “So what’s the best city to go to in Italy? Where would you tell me to go?”

  “To a guidebook,” the missus said, her voice frosty.

  They were wandering far from standard check-in procedure at this point. “How about getting the Fortellis’ key cards, Meadow?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Meadow straightened up but Mr. Fortelli remained fixated on her boobs.

  “So, are you folks are up here from Seattle?” Olivia asked, hoping to distract him.

  “We are,” the husband said, making himself the official spokesperson for the Fortelli family.

  “Is it your first time here in Icicle Falls?” Olivia asked his wife.

  “Yes, it is,” the woman said, frowning at Meadow.

  “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. We have some wonderful shops and restaurants. And Currier’s Tree Farm offers sleigh rides.”

  “They do? I’m so making Brandon take me on one,” put in Meadow. “I bet you’d like a sleigh ride, huh, Mr. Fortelli.”

  Fortelli was obviously enjoying the attention. He smiled at Meadow as if they were in a bar working toward hooking up.

  “A very romantic thing to do with your husband,” Olivia said to his wife, who was looking as if she’d like to run over Meadow with a sleigh.

  “You should take your wife,” Meadow added. She gave Mr. Fortelli the room-key packet. “You’re on the second floor. Breakfast is from seven to ten. Meanwhile, if there’s anything you need, just let us know.” She gave the man a playful finger point. “We’re here for you.”

  “Let’s go,” his wife snapped, snatching the key-card envelope from his hand. She turned and marched toward the staircase.

  “What’s her problem?” Meadow asked as the couple crossed the lobby.

  “I think she didn’t like all the attention you were giving her husband.”

  Meadow‘s eyes widened. “Seriously? I was just being friendly—like you told me. And he was the one doing all the talking.”

  “You should still address all your remarks to both when it’s a couple.”

  “Okay, fine. But I was just being friendly,” Meadow repeated.

  “Next time don’t be quite so friendly,” Olivia advised. “Wives don’t like it.”

  “Insecure,” Meadow muttered.

  “Most of us are.”

  Meadow heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Okay, fine. Whatever.”

  Another couple arrived, this time a slightly younger pair with a teenage boy in tow. The boy, who hadn’t looked all that thrilled when they entered, instantly appeared happier at the sight of Meadow.

  But this time Meadow was all
business. “Welcome to the Icicle Creek Lodge,” she said, her lips a straight line. “Have you got a reservation?”

  “Barrows,” said the man.

  Meadow nodded. Still no smile. “Fill out this form. We need your car’s license number. And I need a credit card.”

  Okay, now the pendulum had swung too far in the other direction. “Where are you folks from?” Olivia asked as the man handed over his Visa.

  He began working on the form and his wife said, “We’re from San Diego.”

  “My, you’re a ways from home,” Olivia said.

  “Oh, yes,” the woman replied cheerily. “We wanted a taste of snow. And friends had been telling us what a cute town this is.”

  “We’re proud of it,” Olivia said as an unsmiling Meadow handed over the key cards.

  “You’re in 306. Breakfast is from seven to ten. Enjoy your stay,” Meadow said. Her sober expression added, Good luck with that.

  “And let us know if there’s anything you need,” Olivia said, adding the smile her daughter-in-law was missing.

  “Okay, how was that?” Meadow asked as the family made their way up the stairs.

  “Well, it was good. But you can smile. Be a little friendly.”

  Meadow rolled her eyes. “Well, shit. I was friendly before and you got on me!”

  Argh. “It’s okay to smile, but when it’s a couple, make sure you smile at both of them. And talk to both of them. And no shits in public.”

  “Okay. Got it,” Meadow said. After a moment she added quietly, “I don’t know why I can’t just be myself.”

  “Of course you can be yourself. I just want you to be a better version of yourself.”

  That hadn’t come out right. Meadow frowned. “Whatever.”

  “She’ll get the hang of it,” Muriel assured Olivia later when she met her friends at Bailey’s tearoom for an afternoon cup of tea and some red velvet cake.

  “I have my doubts,” Olivia said. “The girl is just so...unpolished.”

  “She may never get polished,” Dot said. “She’s not you. You’re going to have to accept that.”

  “I know,” Olivia said. Did she sound petulant?