Across town in the cozy kitchen of the Mistletoe Lodge, the co-owners, Henry Avon hung up the phone.
“What did our son say,” Rosalind said as she added milk from a rosebud china pitcher to her husband’s tea. She’d heard once that coincidences had to be planned, but the amount of planning that had gone into the idea they’d hatched a few months ago had grown to such a level that it was difficult to keep track of all the players and plotlines.
She sat down opposite her husband of thirty-five years and sipped her tea. She didn’t rush him. He wanted to have the plan succeed as much as she did and the slightest misstep might ruin everything.
They were like two peas in a pod, their friends liked to say, and often finished each other’s sentences. She knew Henry wore the Christmas sweater that matched hers because he knew it pleased her, for the same reason she sat beside him and watched football games, instead of her knitting channel.
He took a slow steady drink. “Our son said his flight arrives this afternoon.” Henry reached over and squeezed her hand. “He was pleased we wanted to have a renewal of our wedding vows on Christmas Eve, but mentioned that he thought it rather sudden.”
She harrumphed. “Sudden? This was nine months in the making. Carrying our son to term was easier. But if we told him too far in advance, it would never work. He would have insisted we celebrate the renewal of our vows where he lives in London.”
Henry nodded. “That boy is always trying to talk us into selling this place and moving closer to him.”
Rosalind sipped her tea to keep from bringing up the only thing they argued about. The reason Jake wanted them to sell the Mistletoe Lodge and come live with him was because he suspected the struggle it took to keep it going. Each year they dipped into their savings more and more. They’d inherited the lodge and the grounds from Henry’s father and every year they turned into a reenactment of a Middle Faire. In the faire’s glory days, families came from all over the world. There were over seventy booths that sold crafts or demonstrated skills used in the middle ages. They even had a fenced in area where knights fought in mock battles and there were demonstrations of archery, and jousting. But families didn’t come as often as they had in the past and so corners were cut and changes made.
Despite their telling Jake that things were better then ever, he guessed something was wrong and would tell her that his dad looked more tired than usual. She knew how her husband loved the Mistletoe Lodge, but maybe it was time for him to let go.
“Do you think Jake suspects,” Rosalind said. “Everything must look like a coincidence.”
Henry drained his tea and reached for a biscuit. “He was too distracted to ask many questions. If you ask me, he works too hard. He travels all over Europe with his band performing at the Christmas fairs. He did ask if we needed a wedding planner, but I told him we had it under control.” He paused. “Is it under control?”
Rosalind broke a biscuit in half and spread homemade blueberry jam over the two halves. “I think so. Mrs. Bell called and assured me that everything was in motion. Then said the strangest thing. Something about unless she was hampered by rules and guidelines, she and Miranda would be here no later than the day after tomorrow. By then, we will be gone, and Jake will have arrived.”
“I so wish we could be here when Miranda gets here. I even understood why they broke up and with Jake all set to propose marriage with your grandmother’s ring.” He shook his head.
Rosalind traced her finger over the edge of the teacup. She remembered the night Miranda and Jake had broken up. He’d stormed into the lodge, packed his things and hadn’t been back since. When she asked him about that night, he always changed the subject. “I miss her too, but our plan depends on giving our son and Miranda the alone time they need to rekindle their relationship.”
“What if the spark is missing between them? It’s been ten years.”
Rosalind set her uneaten biscuit aside. “That worries me as well. But our boy is so lonely. He won’t admit it and says that everything is fine, but I saw the lost look in his eyes last year over the Christmas holidays. I went by Miranda’s business and met a nice woman who had opened a dress shop next to Miranda’s and learned that Miranda is not seeing anyone either. Our son and Miranda were made to be together.”
Henry leaned across the table and gave his wife a peck on the cheek. “You’re a matchmaker to your core, my love. We must, however, face the chance that this won’t work. What excuse are you going to give Jake for why we aren’t here when he arrives?”
“We will leave him a message on his cell as soon as his flight is in the air that we made an emergency visit to Victoria, Canada to see one of our sick friends.”
“We don’t have any friends in Canada.”
“Jack hasn’t been back for a visit since he left for university. He’s always paid to have us visit him. He won’t know that we haven’t picked up a few friends while he was gone. Besides, he knows all our friends in Seattle, and I didn’t want to risk him calling one of them. This has to work.”