Stella MacLean - The Christmas Inn

“We’d better get out there before Ethan hangs all the ornaments on one branch,” he said, remembering last Christmas when he’d let his son decorate a small tree for their apartment, and Ethan had hooked every ornament on a branch near the bottom of the tree. Luke had left it that way and had emailed several photos of Ethan’s efforts to his parents in Hong Kong.

They walked together to the front hall, where a throng of inn guests and local residents had already gathered around the tree. A group of carolers from Wakesfield had arrived to provide the entertainment, filling the large entry hall with familiar Christmas songs. Luke made his way through the crowd to the tree where Ethan was attempting to string a garland of colored popcorn onto a branch. “Hey! Don’t pull the tree over,” Luke warned, kneeling to help him.

“Daddy, I love popcorn,” he whispered, bringing the strand to his mouth. “Want some?”

“You can’t eat that. It’s a decoration for the tree.”

Ethan’s lips formed a pout. “I’m hungry.”

“You can’t be.”

Ethan ignored him as he pulled on the strand of popcorn.

“Here, let me help,” Luke said, following the string down past Ethan’s feet to a spot under the bottom of the tree where it had become entangled. Reaching in, he freed it, and then lifted Ethan so he could place the garland on the outer tips of the branches.

The people standing around the tree clapped, and Ethan smiled as he hugged his father’s neck. Balancing his son in his arms, Luke finished stringing the popcorn on the tree.

The group gathered closer as they all joined in decorating the tree. Several of the men took turns hoisting Ethan up so he could reach the higher branches. Everyone was intent on decorating the huge tree, reminding Luke once again how lucky he was to have this extended family as part of his life for the past eight years.

The sense of family and being together for the holiday season caused a lump to form in Luke’s throat. It wasn’t that he disliked Christmas as much as the idea that his son would never remember a Christmas that included his mother.

But he couldn’t focus on the past, especially with so much riding on the next few weeks. He’d heard rumors from other managers of hotels and inns owned by Advantage Corporation that the CEO, Angus McAndrew, and his management team were looking at all their resort holdings with an eye to selling some of their properties. He hoped the rumor wasn’t true, but he knew better than to think that they’d be concerned with what he believed or how he felt.

Still, it was worrisome because he’d worked for Advantage for years, starting at a smaller inn and then being promoted to manager of The Mirabel. Right now, with Ethan finally happy and content once again, he didn’t look forward to any change that would affect his son’s life, not to mention his own. If Advantage chose to sell this inn, they would probably offer him a job somewhere, but if they decided that his performance wasn’t up to their standards or they didn’t have a position to offer him, he could end up looking for a job with another organization. In either case it would mean a different location and a new place to live. For now, he didn’t want to consider the impact it would have on them. He just wanted to watch his son enjoy the festivities that would kick off the Christmas season.

“Up, Daddy,” Ethan demanded, a large angel dangling from his fingers as he held his arms up to his father.

“An angel wants to put an angel on the tree,” Mary said over the din created by the crowd.

And Ethan was an angel—the baby he and Anna had dreamed of and waited years for. “Okay, Ethan, let’s see you hang this ornament,” he said, holding his son aloft as he leaned into the branches to hang the angel near the center of the tree. The staff had already placed a huge lighted star on top. Luke stepped back with Ethan still held high in his arms.

“This is probably the nicest tree we’ve ever had at the inn,” Mary mused, as they all gazed up into the tree.

* * *

STILL KEEPING THE DOOR CLOSED against her brother, Marnie considered her options. How had he known she was in here? Knowing him, he would’ve driven by her house, then over here and found her car in the parking lot. Had he discovered her plan to sell?

Scott was the last person she wanted to see right now. He’d rant on and on about how she was making a huge decision without seeking the family’s advice first. The unspoken issue was that Marnie McLaughlan, the youngest member of the McLaughlan clan, wasn’t allowed to make any changes in her life without their involvement.

“Go away, Scott,” she yelled through the door. “I’m not doing anything that concerns you.”

“Marnie, listen to me. Mom is all worked up over Christmas and worried about you. You know what she’s like,” he said.

Her mother loved the holidays; she relied on Marnie’s support for whatever scheme she had in the works. This year she planned to have Santa arrive complete with sleigh and elves, which meant that Marnie had to be there to act as Mrs. Claus, a role she’d flat-out refused, much to her mother’s chagrin. The problem with Eleanor’s party schemes was that they always seemed to involve an unattached male—usually the temporarily single son of one of her mother’s bridge-playing friends—with whom she’d be forced to socialize. “I’m well aware of our mother’s ability to be a drama queen.”

“Not fair, Marnie. Mom has always had your best interests at heart.”

Right. Good old Mom, not to mention good old Dad and my four good old brothers.

How she’d like to snap her fingers and have Scott disappear. But Scott’s Velcro tendencies were legendary once he decided to become involved in something. He beat a tattoo on the door, making her clap her hands to her ears.

If, just once, her family could see her for what she was rather than what she wasn’t, her life would be so much easier. Reluctantly she turned the lock, opened the door and forced a smile. “What brought you here so early this morning?”

“I heard that you were selling your half of the business.”

“Who told you?”

“Dad heard about it through some friend at the Elks Club—a friend of a friend of a woman named Gina something or other. Is it true?”

“I’m not going to change my mind.”

Dressed in his uniform of an immaculately tailored dark suit, silk tie chosen to match the tiny thread of magenta woven into the suit fabric, Scott gave her a persuasive smile—the one he usually saved for his marketing clients—as he stepped past her into the tiny office.

“Hello, Shane, it’s great to see you, and I hear that congratulations are in order.” Scott was about to plunk himself down in the lawn chair, took a closer look and reconsidered.

As Shane launched into the story about how he met his new love, and soon-to-be new partner, Marnie leaned back against the wall and enjoyed the look on Scott’s face. Her brother had problems with any conversation he didn’t control. Scott wasn’t mean. He was constantly thinking ahead to the next step in his plans, and thus he didn’t have much patience for small talk. Not surprisingly, it didn’t take him long to interrupt Shane and ask a couple of pointed questions concerning the contract.

“Shane, you don’t have to answer,” she said hurriedly, wanting to block Scott’s interrogation of her friend.

Shane closed his mouth and sank his neck into his turtleneck. “That’s right, I don’t,” he confirmed, his eyebrows rising to meet his hairline.

“Shane, would you excuse my sister and me for a couple of minutes?”

With an expression of resignation Shane rose from the chair. “I’ll be in the salon going over the renovation plans,” he said, giving Marnie his “chin up, kid” smile as he walked past her out the door.