As Molly rejoined them, Jeanne laughed. “I think I must have left them in the kitchen,” she said. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right back.”
In the midst of it all, Iris was on the phone behind the desk. “I’m sorry, June this coming year is all booked up,” she said. “Would you like to think about next December? Or perhaps the following June?”
At the sound of a step behind her, Molly turned, thinking it must be Marcus. She felt a little thrill of nervousness as she did. She’d spent a good part of the morning in the lounge with him and the girls and the two older couples, enjoying the girls’ delight as they opened their gifts. But now that the day was almost over, they still hadn’t talked about their kiss the night before.
She’d thought, when he’d knocked on her door a little while ago, that that might be what he was coming to talk about. But he’d simply said he thought it was getting to be time to pack up, which had sent the girls into a frenzy of activity, which they insisted he not help with, because they could do it themselves. Which of course had led to Molly doing half the packing and lugging the bags downstairs.
Not that she minded. She was glad to get any time she could with the girls, especially because she wasn’t sure how much time she’d ever get to spend with them again.
But when Molly turned around, it wasn’t Marcus behind her, but Luke, and Hannah’s father, Bob, each weighed down with a hodgepodge load of rolling suitcases, garment bags, backpacks, and shopping bags.
“The simple life,” Bob joked as they passed through the lobby, heading for the cars outside. “Just a few things we brought along for our weekend in the woods.”
Hannah, who had trailed them down, stopped in the lobby to give her mom a hug. “I’m sorry about how this weekend turned out.”
Her mom wrapped her in a ferocious hug. “Well, I’m not, honey,” she said. “Not one bit.”
“Thanks for everything,” Hannah said.
“Oh, honey,” her mother said, tears welling up in her eyes. “We’d do anything for you. Always. You know that.”
As the two of them released each other, Marcus appeared at Molly’s side. He had been so quiet, coming in from the lounge, that she hadn’t heard him at all. And when he reached her, he touched her arm, which sent a jolt of electricity through her.
“Hey,” she said, looking into his eyes searchingly.
“Hey,” he said, glancing up the stairs. “I guess I’d better go up and get the girls’ things.”
Molly shook her head. “I brought them down,” she said. “They’re right over there.”
When Marcus caught sight of the bags by the door, he nodded. “Thanks,” he said.
Jeanne pressed through the crowd, carrying a small stack of her packets of brownies in waxed paper. “As requested,” she said.
Marcus looked rueful. “Let me guess who requested those,” he said. “I’m suspecting it was a female, under eight years old.”
“That’s amazing!” Jeanne said, pressing three of the packets into his hands. “How did you ever guess?”
She turned and handed the last packet to Molly, who noticed it was still faintly warm.
“We’ve loved having you here,” Jeanne said. “Please come back and see us soon.”
Molly glanced over at Iris. “It sounds like you’re booked up now for years,” she said.
“Well,” Jeanne said, “for the right guest, we can always make room.” With a wink, she slipped back into the crowd.
Molly turned to Marcus, and their eyes locked. Her heart fluttered with the thought that he was finally about to say something.
But he just ducked his head and looked out the door. “I’ve got the car warming up so it won’t be freezing when I get the girls in,” he said. “I’d better get our stuff out there.”
“Oh,” Molly said with a little pang. “Okay.”
As he headed out the door, swinging the girls’ bags up in one hand as if they weighed nothing, Molly knelt to see the two girls.
As if they’d choreographed it in advance, both Addison and Bailey leaned into her, giving her hugs from either side of her neck.
“It was so nice to meet you both,” Molly said.
“Molly,” Bailey said. “I love you.”
It might not have been the declaration Molly was hoping for, or from the person Molly was hoping to hear it from, but there was no way she could resist it. “I love you, too, Bailey,” she said, and gave both the girls a tight squeeze.
When she straightened up, she could see Marcus just outside, heading back in. He’d be inside in just an instant, so the girls wouldn’t be left alone for long. And Molly didn’t want to hang around, begging for a conversation that was never going to come, since he was clearly eager to get his family back on the road again.
So she gave the girls one last squeeze, then headed up the stairs to her room.
Inside, the pang she had felt when Marcus walked out the door turned into a deep ache. But she couldn’t blame him for not wanting to start something more serious, and not knowing what to say to her about it.
It might not have meant everything she hoped, but her kiss with him had been a bright moment in a hard year. And she still couldn’t think back on all the time with him and the girls with anything but pleasure and happiness.
And even if all they ever shared was this holiday, they’d shown her something about herself—what she really wanted, and what a fuller life could be like.
Idly, she began to collect the papers and pencils from her desk and stash them in the portfolio and art cases she’d brought with her. The ends of half her pencils were broken or blunt, but since this was just evidence of all the work the girls had done creating her Christmas present, they only made her smile.
She had the desk half cleared when she heard a knock on the door.
As she crossed the room to answer it, she scanned the place, looking for whatever the girls might have left: a stray shoe, a lonely stuffed animal.
But she didn’t see anything obvious by the time she reached the door. And when she opened it, there was Marcus, without either of the girls.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi,” she said.
“Listen,” he began, looking nervous.
“You know what?” Molly said quickly. “It’s all right. I understand.”
Marcus looked at her in confusion. “You do?” he said.
Molly nodded vigorously. “It’s fine,” she said. “It’s been great to meet you. And the girls,” she added.
“Well,” Marcus said slowly. “It’s been great to meet you, too. And that’s why I wanted to ask what you’re doing for the next few days.”
“Um,” Molly said, confused now herself. “My reservation here ends today. I’m just about to pack up and head home.”
“Well,” Marcus said with a grin. “We were on our way to the Starlight Lodge down the road before we got stuck in the storm. I just checked with them, and they’re honoring reservations that were interrupted by the weather, so it looks like we’ve got a few extra days of vacation. But they had to switch us to a different room to accommodate the different time. It’s a suite, with a separate bedroom off the main rooms where the girls and I will be. Got its own lock on the door and everything. I just thought, if you wanted to come along, maybe we could pay you back for your hospitality to us.”
Molly hesitated, so surprised by the offer, and so confused by what it meant, that she couldn’t answer.
“The girls would love it if you came along,” Marcus said.
At this, Molly’s face must have fallen, because he took a step toward her and linked his fingers through hers.
“And so would I,” he said softly.
At this, Molly broke out in a wide grin.
“Um,” she said. “I’m not all packed yet.”
“Take your time,” Marcus said. “We won’t leave without you.”
He leaned in to kiss her cheek, then turned and headed back down the stairs.
Molly stood there
for a minute, feeling the faint impression of his kiss until it faded away.
Then she sprang into action, tossing together the last odds and ends that hadn’t made it into her suitcase, pulling on a coat, and gathering the rest of her art supplies.
The last thing she packed was the stack of blank paper that had been both her inspiration, and her nemesis, for so many hours in the cozy room.
As she slipped it into her portfolio, she smiled at it like an old friend. She had completed the book she’d come here to write, but she was glad to see there were still plenty of blank pages left.
With the fresh, waiting pages tucked away, she slung her bag over her shoulder and started out to see what happened next in her story.
About the Author
Colleen Wright was raised in snowy towns in Michigan, where she loved curling up by the fire with a good book at Christmas. She now lives and works in Brooklyn.
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Howard Books
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Alloy Entertainment, LLC
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First Howard Books trade paperback edition October 2018
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Interior design by Davina Mock-Maniscalco
Cover design by Anna Dorfman
Cover photographs © Krisrobin/Depositphotos
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Wright, Colleen. Title: The white Christmas inn / by Colleen Wright.
Description: First Howard Books trade paperback edition. | New York : Howard Books, 2018.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018010211 (print) | LCCN 2018012730 (ebook) | ISBN 9781501180590 (eBook) | ISBN 9781501180606 (trade pbk. original)
Subjects: LCSH: Young women—Fiction. | Man–woman relationships—Fiction. | GSAFD: Christmas stories
Classification: LCC PS3623.R5325 (Ebook) | LCC PS3623.R5325 W55 2018 (print) | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018010211
ISBN 978-1-5011-8060-6
ISBN 978-1-5011-8059-0 (ebook)
The White Christmas Inn Page 24