'Tis the Season for Love: A Charity Box Set

by Maggie Dallen

  His friends joked and laughed all day with me. They even invited me to come to the Christmas tree lightning in downtown Snow Falls on Saturday night.

  When one of his friends shoved Ember into me under the mistletoe outside G-Daddy’s office, I didn’t run like I did the first time. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed when he only kissed my cheek. His lips left a blazing mark that I felt until I dozed off that night.

  I’m no expert in matters of the heart. I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve only kissed one guy, and I don’t even count it. It was just a peck on the lips during an awkward party game in ninth grade. I studied books instead of boys, preferring the feeling that I could find solutions to real problems. Boys are unsolvable problems.

  Like why did he leave yesterday without saying goodbye? He hugged me when they arrived. I feel disappointed that I didn’t get an acknowledgement after the moment we shared during my speech.

  Maybe that’s why I’m feeling so wretched.

  Subconsciously, I thought more was going on. Oh, come on, Holland. You thought it consciously as well.

  A voice breaks me from my internal banter. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize someone was still in here.” Avery, the assistant chef, enters the conference room and begins to clean up.

  “No need to apologize.” I smile.

  She looks over the arrangement of hams, turkeys, breads, stuffings, sauces, and sides splayed out around a decorative cornucopia. “So much food left over, more so than usual.”

  “Do we have any containers that I could pack up some of the leftovers in? I want to take them somewhere.” If Ember can't come to me, I’ll go to him.

  “Yes, I’ll be right back.”

  Armed with a box full of food containers, I take a cart to the caretaker’s house that’s just past my grandfather’s cabin. Ember’s utility cart is there, so I know he’s home.

  I set the box of food down and knock. After a few moments, Ember’s face--his compelling blue eyes, his firm features--appears through the screened door. The confident set of his shoulders deflates when he sees me.

  His features pinch as he says, “What are you doing here?”

  I pick up the box from the stoop and push it in his direction. “You didn’t come to the luncheon today, so I thought I’d bring it to you.”

  He takes the box and sets it inside. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to.”

  A slurred voice carries from inside. “Who’s there?” Then a clatter ensues.

  He turns his head in the direction of the noise. “It’s really not a good time.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “I’m grateful, really.”

  A loud thud followed by more clattering makes Ember roll his eyes.

  His dad yells out, “Pig skins!”

  “I need to go,” Ember says with pleading eyes.

  “Yeah. Thanks for yesterday.”

  He nods then shuts the door in my face.

  I slowly walk to the cart, hoping he’ll come out and wrap me in his comforting arms. But he doesn’t.

  When I make it to the cabin, my phone pings. A rush of energy surges, then I realize Ember doesn’t have my number and I quickly feel drained. I pull my phone out and look at the text.

  Hey baby, just wanted to let you know I’ll be coming to the inn for Christmas. Love, Mom.

  I slam the cart in reverse and take the long way to G-Daddy’s cabin. I sit on the porch until the sun sets behind the lake, letting the cold freeze my troubles.

  Chapter 12

  Ember

  The look of Holland’s disappointed face is ingrained in my mind. I arrive to the will reading a few minutes early, hoping to catch her before it begins to apologize for my rudeness.

  Dad had been drinking since we got home from Mr. Garland’s service and was in an especially bad mood. I had just helped Dad out of the bathroom after finding him passed out in the tub with his boxers on.

  Mrs. Mabel, Todd, Blake, and Cory are here along with Mr. Benton, Mr. Garland’s attorney. But no Holland.

  “What’s he doing here?” Todd asks when I take a seat around the conference table.

  Mr. Benton waves him off and shuffles his stack of papers around. “Everyone who’s invited has a right to be here. We’re just waiting on one more person.”

  At a minute past nine, Holland arrives with a coffee in hand. “Sorry, I’m late,” she says then sits across from me next to Mrs. Mabel, giving her a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Mrs. Mabel pinches Holland’s cheeks. “Look at how beautiful you are. I’m so sorry about your G-Daddy.”

  And she is beautiful. Her blonde hair twists on top of her head, an escaping strand falls over her forehead. She’s dressed casually in jeans and a red sweater that makes her green eyes shimmer. She glances in my direction with a timid smile.

  I smile warmly back, hoping it carries an apology.

  “Now that everyone’s here, let’s get started.” Mr. Benton stands in attention then circles the room as he speaks. “A couple of weeks before Curtis passed, he came to me to make a couple of changes to his will. He told me that he felt off, and even though he planned to live a lot longer, he wanted to make sure all his affairs were in order. When Todd called me about his death, I wasn’t shocked. Somehow, I think Curt knew it was coming.”

  He walks back to the front of the room and writes three words in columns on the whiteboard. Property. Money. Inn. Under property, he writes several things, including Mr. Garland’s prized possession--the candy-apple red with white pinstripes 1966 Ford Mustang in the inn’s garage. I spend a couple hours a week in that garage admiring the amazing piece of machinery as it shares space with the carts I’m tasked to maintain.

  Last on the list of possessions is the caretaker’s cabin. As much as I would love the car, I’m hoping I’m here because Mr. Garland willed me my home.

  The majority of the possessions are split between Cory and Todd, except for the car which goes to Blake. I want to slap the arrogant smile of satisfaction off his face.

  “The two cabins on the backside of the inn property will be split off from the main property,” Mr. Benton says. “Ember, the caretaker cabin along with an acre of land surrounding it is now in your possession.”

  He slides a survey map across the table to me as Todd lets out a huff. I hide the smile of victory as I take a look at the drawing of my home and land. Mr. Garland always said he’d look after me after my mom died. He’s even doing it in death.

  Mr. Garland’s cabin and surrounding land that butts up to mine now belongs to Holland. Our eyes meet, and I mouth, “Hi, neighbor”

  Her cheeks pink as she smiles then looks away.

  “Now, let’s move on to the money column. Curt wanted to keep the dollar amounts private. I’m handing each of you an envelope with a check in the amount you are bequeathed.”

  He walks around the table distributing envelopes to everyone, even me. Blake rips his open and screams out, “Yes!” Mrs. Mabel sits her unopened envelope on the table. I mimic her and so does Holland, Todd, and Cory.

  “And lastly, the inn and all properties not previously split from it,” Mr. Benton adds.

  He writes Blake, Todd, Corey, Holland, and Ember on the whiteboard under Inn. There’s no way Mr. Garland left me the cabin, whatever the contents are in the envelope, and a part of the inn. I want to stop him to ask if it’s a mistake, but he speaks before I can.

  “Blake, your grandfather knew your heart wasn’t at the inn. That’s why he left you his car and the generous amount of money. But he did want to include you in the inn. You will be a 1% shareholder. Todd and Cory, you each are 24% shareholders. Holland, you are a 49% shareholder.” I quickly do the math before he says it. “Ember, you are a 2% shareholder. As for all decisions, majority rules.”

  I glance around the room meeting eyes with everyone. Todd and Blake both look shocked with angry snarls on their face. Cory has a smirk that I can’t tell whether it’s positive or neg
ative. Mrs. Mabel has her warm smile then looks toward the ceiling with a slight shake to her head. I’m reading her mind that’s saying, This is going to be interesting. Holland’s mouth curves upward temptingly.

  This is going to be interesting.

  Later that day, as I’m feeding the horses, I remember the envelope in my back pocket. I pull it out and look at the amount of the check. $10,000. For the first time since my mother was around, I feel relieved and secure. If the inn is sold, I know I’ll be okay until I find another job. Maybe I’ll even go back to school and work part-time. That’ll make Dad happy.

  I saddle up Prancer and take her out for exercise around the corral. Mr. Garland told me that Prancer is Holland’s favorite horse. She was here for Christmas several years ago when Prancer was born and decided to give the horse a holiday name. Prancer has always been my favorite horse, too.

  A cart with three people ambles down the dirt path and comes to a stop in front of the barn. I slide off Prancer and walk her to the stable as Blake, Todd, and Cory walk over.

  “We’re willing to give you above market value for your shares of the inn,” Todd says.

  Blake and Todd look like hungry sharks as they eye me like I’m the bait. Cory looks down and shuffles his feet in the snow and dirt covered ground.

  I’m not going to bite. “I’m not selling.” Prancer’s lips are tight, as if she agrees with me.

  Blake punches his dad on the shoulder. “I told you he’s too dumb to sell.”

  “Blake!” Cory says. “Go back to the cart. You too, Todd. I want to talk to Ember alone.”

  Great.

  Cory holds his hands out toward the barn door. “Let’s walk Prancer back to her stall.”

  Prancer releases her mouth and shakes her head. It seems she doesn’t care much for Todd and Blake either. I rub her head and say, “Good girl.” I then follow Cory into the barn.

  “Did you know Prancer is Holland’s favorite horse?” he asks.

  I nod. I need to engage in the small talk. His daughter is technically my boss.

  “She wouldn’t stop talking about this horse after she witnessed the birth. She even wrote a story at school that won a writing competition for her grade. ” He pats Prancer on the back.

  “Prancer’s a great horse. She’s Mr. Garland’s favorite as well.” Can we cut to the chase, please?

  “A repairman came when I was in Dad’s office working on the accounting. He was looking for you. Said he finally had the door to the right measurements and wanted to install it before anyone else got stuck in the shed.”

  “It’s about time,” I say, then open Prancer’s stall door and walk her in.

  “So, you’ve been dealing with that for the past three months?”

  I remove Prancer’s bridle. “Yeah, he begged for one more chance to get it right. I wanted to cut him loose, but Mr. Garland always believed in giving someone another shot.”

  “That’s my dad for you,” he says as he runs his hands through his hair. “I want to apologize for how I acted toward you that night.”

  “No need. It should’ve been taken care of a long time ago.”

  “Well, I’m sorry anyway.”

  “Thanks.” Is that it, or is this more small talk to get to the real talk?

  “Look, Holland has wanted to take care of the inn since she was little. Dad always filled her head with these grand plans. And since it seems you’re on her side, I want you to look out for her. I know she won’t sell. She’s too stubborn.” He lets out a laugh in which I smile in return. “She’s like her grandfather in that way.”

  I remove the saddle and walk toward the tack room. “I’ll be around for whatever she needs.” I’m hoping it’s more than as a caretaker, but I’m not going to tell him that.

  “She can’t come here until she graduates high school. I don’t think she’d want to come any sooner even if I’d let her--she’s too into academics. But when she gets here, call me if she ever gets in over her head.”

  I put down the saddle then hang up the bridle. “Are you asking me to spy on her for you?”

  “Yeah, you could look at it that way.”

  I laugh at his honesty. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t implode.”

  “Thanks, Ember.”

  Chapter 13

  Holland

  Everyone has left the room except Mr. Benton and Mrs. Mabel. The envelope with my inheritance sits on the conference table. I don’t care to open it. The money doesn’t matter. It’s the inn that I care about. I’m the majority owner of this fantastic place, but I can easily be a minority if the other shareholders team up together.

  I know my dad will accept my decision of not selling my part. He won’t like it, but he’s always been supportive of my goals, no matter how lofty they may be. I wish I could count on him being on my side with the shares, but I know that’s not a possibility. He could easily pool his shares in with his brother.

  I can hear him now. Holland, you’re eighteen with a fun-filled college life ahead of you. The inn is too much of a responsibility. I ran away from it, not wanting to take it on. I’d advise you to do the same. I’ve never cared about having a fun-filled college life. I want a fun-filled inn life while attending college on the side. I’m not running away from it.

  Does Ember realize he’s the deciding vote? Two percent isn’t a lot but it’s enough to tip the scale if he teams up with me or with the others. Did granddaddy leave him that two percent for a reason? It’s got to be for my benefit, or is it not?

  Mr. Benton’s voice pulls me from my questions. “Holland, your grandfather wanted you to have this letter.” He hands me a white envelope with Holly Berry in G-Daddy’s handwriting.

  “Thanks,” I say, trying to keep the tears at bay.

  He nods. “If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call.” He gathers his paperwork, places it in his briefcase, and exits the room.

  Mrs. Mabel takes my hands in hers. Her brown eyes glisten in a motherly way. “Child, I’m so happy for you.”

  “Come back to work,” I say, squeezing her hands.

  “No, no, no. Your uncle did me a favor by forcing me to retire. Otherwise, I’d have wound up like your grandfather, dying on the job.”

  “But the new chef…”

  “Avery is capable.”

  “Are you telling me to fire the person Todd hired and promote Avery to head chef?”

  She smiles as she touches the tip of my nose. “You do what you think you need to do to make things work.”

  After Mrs. Mabel leaves, I slip away to my grandfather’s fishing cabin to ponder, just like he did when troubled with big decisions. I pull out the two envelopes from my back pocket and sit in a rocking chair, then I open the envelope that says Holly Berry.

  To my dearest Holly Berry,

  If you are reading this, then my premonition came true. I have left this earth and now walk amongst the angels with your grandmother. Oh, happy day.

  Don’t be sad, be happy as I had a wonderful life. And having you as the best granddaughter in the world made that wonderful life even better.

  I suspect your dad and Todd will try to cut ties with each other but will team up for one final task of selling the inn. I don’t want that to happen. I want the inn to stay in the family for many more generations. It’s up to you to keep it going. I think I laid everything out perfectly to prevent any sale, even playing a little matchmaker in the process. ;-P

  If my death happens before you graduate high school, I’m not sure how this will all play out. But please, do what you need to do to keep the inn in the family. That is, unless you decide it’s too much of a burden (if you do, I won’t haunt you for long).

  If you want to do what you’ve always planned once you graduate, then call this person. She’s a consultant and will help you with whatever you need, including temporarily working at the inn until you (and Ember) have a handle of it.

  Anna Young

  555.1234

  You’ll have to use s
ome of the money I left you to hire her. But she’s well worth it and will set you up for success better than I ever could.

  I love you to Pluto and back,

  Your G-Daddy in Heaven

  I wipe away a single tear as I trace his signature. Taking a deep breath, I fold the letter and put it back in the envelope along with the check envelope. Whatever decision I make, I’m either going to disappoint my grandfather or my dad. The latter finds me hours later with chattering teeth. The cold front is taking hold, keeping a small layer of snow on the ground.

  “You really need to think about selling. I know you don’t want to, but you need to consider it,” he says as he sits in a rocking chair. “You can’t take care of this place alone.”

  “I’m not selling, Dad. This is what I want, and G-Daddy knew that. I’m surprised you haven’t hit up Ember to buy out his shares. That way, you and Todd would have the majority.”

  “Todd tried. Ember won’t sell.”

  “Then I won’t be taking care of this place alone.” That means I can count on Ember when it comes to the inn. But how about when it comes to the heart?

  We sit in silence for a few minutes.

  Hating the quiet and my inner monologue, I change the subject. “Did you know Mom was coming to the inn for Christmas?”

  He scoffs and starts rocking. “I’m not surprised.”

  “You’re not? ‘Cause I’m shocked.”

  He halts his rocking then drags out a breath. “You’re old enough now to understand the real reason for the divorce.”

  Dad has always said Mom chose her job over him. That’s why I’ve always assumed that she chose it over spending time with me. She used to come around more until I hit high school. At that point, she worked international flights, changing the location of her base airport to London.