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Half an hour later Denny, her stomach full, grasped the banister and trudged up the carpeted staircase behind Maureen, Amanda, and Lydia to their rooms. After the long day, each step seemed like an ordeal. She wished she was home in her cramped little apartment in New Jersey.
Amanda tugged Lydia’s hand. “I’ll go to bed only if Lydia tucks me in.”
Denny knew her niece’s histrionics. She would try anything to get her way and was usually successful.
“Nighty-night,” Denny said, but Amanda kept walking. Had Amanda outgrown her need for her Aunt Denny? Feeling downhearted, she opened her room’s door. Lydia leaned inside to toss her handbag on a chair, then spun away and followed after Amanda. The flap of Lydia’s bag opened. Denny couldn’t help but notice something shiny and silver. With the door shut again, Denny snooped in Lydia’s purse and found an ornate spoon handle. Lydia had stolen a spoon from the restaurant? Weird. From what Denny had heard, she couldn’t envision an Amish woman stealing anything. Ever.
Denny wondered if she should tell Maureen but decided against it. Denny would confront Lydia when she returned. An encounter she dreaded. I mean since when had Denny turned so capital P perfect? She knew she wasn’t, or she wouldn’t have been searching in Lydia’s bag without her consent.
Her hand rested against a silky fabric. She pulled one end and extracted a Hermès scarf. What on earth? Where would Lydia obtain a designer brand scarf? Maybe Maureen was lending it to her. Denny’s sister had more clothes than she knew what to do with. Her favorite pastime was shopping for expensive clothes, but she never had lent anything to Denny. In all fairness, Denny would have said, “No thanks.”
Her mind retreated to Alec. She wondered where he lived. Alone? She wished she’d asked him straight out. She was usually bold enough to ask anyone about anything. Tomorrow she would.
Someone knocked on the door. Denny shoved the scarf and spoon back into Lydia’s handbag and leaped to her feet as the door opened.
“Sorry to bother you. May I turn down the beds?” A young woman wearing a kilt and carrying two small boxes breezed into the room. “Chocolates.” The woman grinned.
“Sure, okay.” Denny watched her fluff the pillows, fold down the quilts with precision, and set the chocolates on each bed table. Denny longed to dive into bed after sampling a chocolate, her favorite candy.
“Anything else I can do for you?” The young woman moved toward the door.
“You can tell me what tartan you’re wearing.”
“Why, Clan MacDonald.”
“Yes, of course.” Denny decided to take advantage of the situation. “So, what’s the story behind the Campbells and MacDonald feud?”
“Have you never heard of Glencoe? How the Campbells murdered the MacDonalds in their sleep?”
Denny cringed. “Oh, how terrible.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you.”
“That’s okay; I asked.” Denny wished she hadn’t. She was sick of knowing the truth.
“That was many, many years ago. In 1692.” The young woman backed out into the hallway and shut the door. Minutes later it opened again, and Lydia minced in. Her vision landed on her purse as if she knew someone had been rifling through it, but she pressed her lips together. Denny was too exhausted to confront Lydia. And what good would it do? Lydia obviously had a problem. Everyone did.
To Denny’s surprise, Lydia emptied her purse onto the bed in one swift motion. A myriad of items cascaded out, including a watch Denny had seen Maureen wear—or one just like it—gold loop earrings, the spoon from the dining room, the scarf, and other items.
“A spoon?” Denny was flabbergasted. “You stole a spoon from the restaurant downstairs?”
“No—I never would,” Lydia sputtered. “I asked if I could bring it to our room, and the waitress said yes.”
“What for? Why would you need a spoon?”
“Molly said I could have a dish of ice cream in our room later—on the house. I particularly liked this spoon.” She glanced at the ornate carpet. “I wasn’t going to take it home with me.” Denny could buy her explanation halfway, and yet that did not explain the scarf and the earrings.
Denny knew she needed to tread carefully for fear that Lydia would quit her job and leave Maureen in the lurch. Not that Maureen couldn’t take care of her own daughter. Maureen lacked confidence is all.
Lydia peered out the window. “Ach, it’s snowing.”
Denny strode to the window to watch a curtain of lazy snowflakes dropping to the earth. White blobs of beauty. A child at heart, Denny forgot about the spoon and the scarf.
Rapping on the door caught their attention. “Coming.” Denny cracked the door. It swung open with such force that it rattled on its hinges.
“Aunt Denny, Lydia, it’s snowing!” Amanda’s exuberant voice revealed her excitement. “I want to go outside.” She wore her hooded jacket. “Mommy won’t come with me, but she said I can’t go alone.”
The lights flickered, then dimmed and went out.
“Oh great. I wanted to read in bed.” Denny had brought along a copy of 44 Scotland Street, an Alexander McCall novel that took place in Edinburgh she’d spied in the bookshop. “But sure, I’ll go with you.” In her mind she sang “Winter Wonderland” like a ninny. Hadn’t she complained about the snow this past winter? Not that it didn’t sometimes snow well into spring in New Jersey. She was glad for the light produced by her iPhone’s flashlight.
“You coming?” she asked Lydia.
“Yah, sure. Give me a minute to find my coat and hat.” Lydia sounded as enthusiastic as Amanda.
Denny’s arms wrestled themselves into her jacket and gloves, then she plopped her hat atop her head. She was surprised when she found Maureen in the hall looking for them. “You want to come down with us?” Denny asked her.
“I guess. I’ll sit inside somewhere and have tea and that dessert I missed.” Maureen patted her tummy. “Not that I should be eating more sweets.”
When Denny descended the stairs, she walked right into Alec. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
He laughed. “I hope you’re not disappointed.” His wide grin was illuminated by candles on the front desk. “When I heard the weather report, I asked if I could use the spare bedroom in the basement here in case it snowed and my car got stuck.”
Denny realized she was gaping up at him. “The more the merrier.” She admonished herself for acting so eager to spend time with him. For all she knew, he wanted to be with Lydia or Molly. “Won’t your wife be expecting you?” Denny asked.
He tilted his head. “Are you asking me if I’m married?”
Denny felt like a goof but too late now. “I guess so. Well, are you?”
“No wife at home waiting for me,” he said. “Not yet.”
Which meant what? Denny asked herself. “You’re engaged?”
“No.” Although it was difficult to see his features in the darkness, his mouth seemed to widen into a grin. “And since you are being so brash, may I ask you if you have a young man waiting for you back in the States?”
“Not at the moment.” She didn’t want him to think that she rarely dated. “Care to join us outside?”
“Absolutely.” Alec grabbed his jacket off the coatrack, searched the pockets, then pulled on his cap and gloves.
As they exited the hotel, Denny felt cold air surround her and saw a cloudy puff float from Alec’s mouth, telling her that the temperature plunged.
A swirl of activity awaited them. Several families with children left the hotel yelling and shouting. Most of the adults wore laughing faces—along with several who were dour as they leapt into their cars and sped away.
Denny looked up as the snow increased. “When it snows on Skye, it doesn’t mess around.” She felt an icy missile hit the side of her head. “Hey, who threw that?” Then she heard Amanda’s peel of laughter and realized the girl had lobbed a snowball at her.
“Why you little...” Denny’s hand raised to her mouth while she restrained herself from spewing out a swear word she hadn’t thought of since her teenage years that she figured Alec would disapprove of. And anyway, wasn’t she trying to improve her life rather than debase it?
Denny gathered up a handful of snow, packed it together into an orb, and threw it at Amanda, hitting her in the shoulder. Before long a dozen people of all ages were partaking in their snowball fight. Even Alec, who fortunately was on Denny’s team.
“Hey, Jack.” Alec hurled a snowball at a man whom he apparently knew.
“Watch it, laddie.” The man gathered snow and threw a snowball at Alec, hitting him in the chest.
“You started it,” the man said.
“Aye, and I call for a truce.”
“Be on my side,” Amanda yelled to Lydia, who hurled a snowball at Denny with force. Denny did not appreciate Lydia’s zeal and wondered if the girl had purposely tried to hurt her.
“Where did you learn to throw like that?” Alec asked Lydia, who gathered snow into another ball and tossed it at Alec, hitting him in the chest.
“I played baseball with my brothers.” Lydia bent to gather more snow.
Denny saw that Lydia had garnered Alec’s full attention. He fashioned more snow into a ball and threw it at Lydia with little force. He apparently did not want to harm her.
Lydia threw her head back and laughed. “Is that the best you can do?”
Through a window, Denny noticed Maureen inside watching them the way their mother would have. A spectator. Maureen even looked like Mom, the way she massaged her hands together. Dad would have joined in the fun. Denny missed them both, but she missed Dad the most. Would Denny always be a child seeking her parents’ approval?