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HOLLY DIDN’T SEEM TO be having the best day. That was pretty obvious from the time I saw her toppling off the ladder with the Christmas lights wrapping themselves around her, but the sigh she just let out told me it wasn’t that one isolated incident that had her frazzled and upset. I figured it very likely had something to do with the guests in the room behind me talking about how disappointed they were with the bed-and-breakfast. Or, more specifically, how disappointed they were with the lack of Christmas feeling there.
Not that I really blamed them. There was a distinct lack of seasonal spirit filling the home. There clearly weren’t any lights on the outside, and I didn’t see any decorations inside, either. There was no tree in the corner of the parlor that would be absolutely perfect for the purpose. There were no stockings hanging over the fireplace. Not even a garland or a piece of mistletoe to be seen.
Whether or not the house smelled like cinnamon was a bit up for debate. There was definitely a hint of something in the air that could possibly be associated with cinnamon, but it was acrid and bitter as well. Outside in Snowflake Hollow, it was like an enormous Christmas cracker had been torn apart right over the town. Inside here, it could have literally been any time of year. Well, any time of year other than Christmas.
But while I felt for the family who had likely thought this was going to be like walking into a postcard, it was the worn-down, discouraged look on Holly’s face that was really getting to me. She was having a rough time, and I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be getting better anytime soon. Every day, the holidays were getting closer, and that meant the expectations were just going to keep getting higher. These people were going to keep getting more eager, and she was going to be the one standing between them and the festive overload they thought they were signing up for.
I had the compulsion to try to make her feel better. She’d smiled at me outside, and while it was brief, I definitely wanted to earn another one. That smile was just as intoxicating to me as it was in high school. Probably more. Holly had grown up even better, which would have been almost impossible for my teenage self to imagine.
While she continued the process of checking me in, I glanced at the decorative plaque on the front of the counter that had the name of the bed-and-breakfast engraved into it.
“You did a really good job picking the name for the bed-and-breakfast,” I said. I gave an exaggerated backward lean to demonstrate I was reading the plaque out to her. “White Christmas Inn, Holly White, proprietor. That’s really cute.”
I was hoping it was going to give her a bit of a boost to know someone thought she was doing something well. Instead, Holly gave a slight roll of her eyes and a nod.
“I didn’t name it,” she said. “It had that name even before I opened it. It’s what my grandmother wanted to call it when she first got the idea. That wouldn’t be what I would call it.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to rally. “What would you have called it?”
She ducked down behind the counter, and I heard a printer churning. “A big empty house with a lot of rooms.” She came up with a printout in her hand and gave a discouraged sigh when she looked up from it and caught my eye. “I’m sorry. Again. As you might have just heard, this is the inn that stole Christmas.”
“I guess you still aren’t the biggest fan of Christmas?” I asked. She looked at me questioningly. “I remember your distaste for it when we were in high school. I seem to recall you lodging a protest against any decorations that referenced Christmas, refused to sing in the chorus purely because of the winter concert, and had the head cheerleader sent to the principal’s office for bullying when she said ‘ho, ho, ho’ in your direction.”
Holly let out a derisive snort and nodded. I chuckled, and she rebounded, stretching a massive put-on smile across her face and giving a big sweeping gesture with her hand.
“I mean, welcome to the White Christmas Inn. Where every day we’re dreaming of a white Christmas.”
She said it in her very best falsely cheerful advertising voice, and I playfully made a face.
“Meh,” I said.
Her hand and expression dropped, and Holly shrugged. “I’ll work on it.” She grabbed a key off an old-fashioned pegboard behind her and came around the side of the desk again. “I’ll show you to your room.” We headed for the steps leading up onto the upper floors of the house. “All the guest rooms are on the upper floors. My wing is downstairs, and the room phones have a button that connects right to me, so if you need anything, you can get to me easily.”
“Good to know,” I say.
She glanced back over her shoulder at me, and I realized how that sounded. But she didn’t say anything about it, so I didn’t attempt to fix it. I likely would have just made it worse, anyway, so it was better to let it go.
“You booked one of the private bathroom suites. Good choice. But just in case there’s someone else in your room and you need one, there are two shared bathrooms on each floor.”
“Someone else in my room?” I asked, a little bit alarmed. I had not prepared myself for the possibility of making new friends quite that personally on this trip.
“I just meant if you had a visitor,” she said.
There was a hint of suggestion in her voice that said she was trying very hard not to say she meant a woman I brought back to spend the night with me. I shook my head.
“There won’t be any visitors,” I said. “It’s just me.”
It seemed a little ridiculous that I was so eager to clear the air and make sure she understood my current relationship status, but somehow, her tiny nod gave me a sense of validation. High school me was apparently still alive and well deep in the back of my mind.
“Breakfast is served down in the dining room starting at eight every morning. It’s served buffet style, so you’re welcome to find a spot to eat it in one of the common rooms downstairs or bring it up to your room. I just ask if you do eat it up here you just bring the dishes down to the kitchen when you come back down for the day.” We got to my room, and she used the key to open it up. She stepped inside and opened her arm to welcome me in. “Here you go.”
I look around, taking in the room. It might not have been bursting with Christmas spirit, but it certainly had the quaint, cozy feeling a bed-and-breakfast was supposed to have. There was even a fireplace to one side and a rocker with what looked like a handmade blanket draped over the back nestled into the picture window overlooking the backyard.
“This is great,” I said.
She nodded, glancing around. For the first time, there was something that looked like happiness and even pride on her face.
“It’s probably my favorite of the guest rooms. It’s not as big as the rooms I use for families, but it has the best window and the fireplace. That desk over there is also original to the house. It was here when my grandmother bought it.”
“Wow. That’s awesome,” I said.
She nodded again, then seemed to go back into her professional innkeeper mode. “Towels and washcloths are in the closet in the bathroom. Just leave the used ones outside your door, and I’ll get them. There’s an extra set of bedding in the closet and a couple of extra blankets in case it gets really cold. Do you think you’ll need another pillow?”
I looked at the bed and counted four. “No, I think I’ll be okay.”
“Okay. Well, I like to think of this as a home rather than something like a hotel, so I avoid coming into the rooms. Housekeeping is offered once per week, but you’re welcome to fresh towels or linens whenever you need them. Just call and I’ll get them to you. There are some books on the shelves if you feel like reading. Downstairs, there’s a library with a lot more books. The living room has a fireplace and TV. There’s a sitting room with puzzles and games. The sunporch on the back of the house is a really nice place to sit. I serve snacks in the parlor each afternoon.
“Other than that, there aren’t a lot of activities or anything here. I figured most people are visiting here so they can spend time in Snowflake Hollow, which has so much going on all the time, especially at Christmas. You shouldn’t miss the lights tours or the decorations down Main Street. The Christmas Faire is coming up. That is a favorite activity around here. There are games and food, an artisan market...”
“Holly?” I said, stopping her spiel. “I know. Remember? I grew up here. My parents used to have a booth at the market each year.”
“Right,” she said with a single nod. Her lips rolled in on each other, and she seemed to bite down on them as she looked around the room for something else to talk about.
I realized then that this woman had no real memories of me from high school. Some might exist somewhere on the very edges of her mind, but I doubted they had a lot of impact on her. I couldn’t really blame her. She was in a whole different realm than I was when we were in school. She was one of the popular girls, all of her attention getting poured onto the quarterback she was dating. She didn’t really fit in with most of the people of that crowd, but she was smart, beautiful, and seemed good at everything, so she was naturally at the top of the hierarchy.
I was not.
“Is there a time when the front door is locked so we can’t get back in?” I asked.
I didn’t really need to know, and I felt like I’d chosen probably the most ridiculous question I could have, but something needed to fill up the silence and stop her from how awkward she obviously felt.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “There’s an electronic lock on the front door. The keypad has a code that will unlock the door anytime. 1225.” I did my best not to laugh at her, but she saw me biting my lips to stop it and nodded. “I know. But it’s easy to remember. It’s also Snowflake Hollow, so I could just prop the door open and leave it that way all the time and nothing would happen.”
“That’s probably true,” I said.
“Do you need anything? Anything else that could make your stay comfortable?” she asked.
I knew it was probably something she asked everyone who checked in, but I liked it anyway. I shook my head.
“No. I think I’ve got everything,” I said.
“Good. Well, then I’ll leave you to settle in. If you think of anything, let me know.”
She stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her. I hesitated for a second, then set my luggage down and started unpacking. It didn’t feel great knowing Holly didn’t really remember me, but at the same time, I was fully aware how silly it was for me to feel that way. We weren’t friends, I never did anything impressive enough to really stand out, and it wasn’t like I ever told her about my crush on her.
I’d thought about it so many times. I fell head over heels for her the second I saw her, and it never faded. There were plenty of times when I thought it was just going to drive me crazy if I kept holding it in and not doing anything about it. Even though I knew she was going to reject me off hand and it would probably be the most embarrassing moment of my life, I would have at least gotten it off my chest and wouldn’t have to carry it around with me anymore. That rejection might have been just what I needed to get over the crush and think about something else.
But telling myself all those things was a whole lot easier than actually gathering up the courage to do them. And that part never came about. I couldn’t bring myself to walk up to the quarterback’s girlfriend and tell her I had feelings for her. This was the girl who sat beside the most popular, powerful, and influential guy at school in the convertible during the Homecoming parade. The one who got dressed up and went to every Friday night football game so when the team won, he could bring her down onto the field and make a big show out of kissing her in front of everyone.
They were the golden couple. Everyone saw them going far in life. Everyone but those of us who could see right through the guy and knew he was trouble. Good-looking and wealthy, sure. But also arrogant, indulged, and tainted by the kind of parenting that told him he was the very best at everything he ever tried, was always right, and could have and do anything and everything he ever wanted.
I didn’t see expressing feelings toward his girlfriend would go over particularly well. Instead, I just relied on the possibility of her figuring it out for herself. I figured it was obvious since I was so incredibly into her, and being smooth was never really my strong suit. But she was so wrapped up in her quarterback it was like she didn’t know anything else even existed in the world.
That was part of the reason I was so surprised she was there. The last thing I knew about Holly, she’d never come back to Snowflake Hollow after leaving for college. I told myself it didn’t really matter. I was just here for a visit, and I hadn’t even known she owned the place when I made the reservation. It wasn’t like I was here specifically to be near her again.
I finished unpacking and called my mother to let her know I’d made it. She told me she couldn’t wait to see me, and right as I was telling her I would come see her soon, I heard a loud crashing sound coming from outside.
“I’ve got to go, Mom. See you soon. Love you,” I said.
I got off the phone before she even responded and rushed to the window. I couldn’t see anything, but when I opened a segment of the picture window and leaned out, I could most certainly hear Holly. Rushing out of my room, I rushed downstairs and looked out through the long glass panels positioned on either side of the door. I could see Holly flailing around, kicking lights tangled around her again and the ladder on the ground.
