Sunday, December 25
Christmas Day
“Help!”
The scream sent Mandy running from the kitchen, breakfast prep forgotten.
She skidded into the front entrance to see a distraught gray-haired woman stumbling backward from her room on the floor above.
“What happened?” Mandy sprinted upstairs.
“Hot! Hot water!” Mrs. Doane bumped into the railing and Mandy ran faster, terrified the woman might fall right over it.
“There’s hot water spewing all over.” Mrs. Doane clutched her bathrobe together in front of her as if she held a shield.
The radiator!
Mr. Doane ran out of the room in a plaid cotton robe and leather slippers. He flattened his back against the wall right outside the door like a cop getting ready to storm into a room. His white hair stood all askew on his head.
“I was trying to turn up the heat.” He peeked in the doorway while his wife kept well back.
“You weren’t burned, were you? These old radiators are very dependable as a rule, but they have hot water running through them.” Mandy stood on the far side of the door from him. “Do you need help? If you’ve been scalded . . .”
“No, it didn’t hit me, but we got out fast.”
Mandy stepped into the open doorway, nearly at his side. She took one look at the blasting steam and boiling water sputtering out of the broken radiator valve and turned to him. “Stay out of the room until we can fix this.”
She headed for the steps.
“But our luggage!” the frightened woman cried in outrage. “And we have our grandchildren’s Christmas gifts in there!”
Mandy had to stop for a second to soothe Mrs. Doane and to make sure she didn’t risk entering the room. “The water is scalding hot. It hasn’t reached any of your things yet.” Mandy rested one hand on the woman’s wrist.
The elderly lady turned her hand and clasped Mandy’s finger. “You be careful, too.”
“I will.” Mandy had time to smile at the sweet lady, then gently separated herself. “The water shuts off in the cellar, so I don’t have to go near it. I’ll get it stopped in a few seconds. But I don’t want you or your husband hurt.”
Mr. Doane came to his wife’s side. “We’ll be careful.”
Mandy hurried down the stairs and rounded the doorway into the dining room and through the kitchen to the back hallway. Cart was running toward the basement. He must’ve come in, in time to hear the shouting.
“Which room?” He slammed open the cellar door.
She told him just as Angel appeared at her door. “Go help Cart downstairs. What do you need me to do?”
“A woman and her husband, the Doanes, are very upset. Can you check them and make sure they haven’t been burned?”
Angel nodded and rushed away toward the stairs.
Mandy reached the furnace room to see Cart on his knees, fighting with a red valve. He twisted until his knuckles turned white.
“I need a three-quarters-inch pipe wrench; they’re hanging on the wall at the base of the stairs.”
Mandy knew just what he meant. She dodged storage boxes, read the clearly marked wrenches, hanging in a row in size order, grabbed the three-quarters-inch one and rushed back.
Cart took it and fitted it to something behind the red valve. The muscles in his shoulders and arms bulged as he worked to close off one of the pipes carrying the boiling water that circulated through the mansion’s radiator system.
Nothing moved.
Cart threw his back into it.
Mandy clenched her jaw to keep from warning Cart about how old those pipes were and telling him not to put much pressure on them. He knew better than she did. She prayed he didn’t break a pipe. Mandy shuddered to think. Could the whole boiler break open and start blasting down here? Cart could be badly burned. Mandy might be, too.
No furnace was worth the brutal pain.
Then the pipe turned with a scrape that turned into a shriek.
Mandy braced her hands on the doorframe and wished, hoped, prayed, for that wrench to turn the spigot on the pipe without breaking it. She steeled herself to grab Cart and drag him away if the pipe burst.
Cart focused on the wrench.
Through gritted teeth, Cart said, “This little water valve should turn easy.” The stubborn valve shrieked in protest. “And no doubt it did back in 1982 when this boiler was brand-new.”
Mandy found her own teeth gritted and her muscles tensed as he pushed all his weight and strength on the wrench.
“Can you grab me some WD-40? It’s the blue and yellow can on the shelf below where the wrenches hang. It’s got a spray nozzle.” Cart didn’t even look at her, all his attention on his work.
Mandy ran through the forest of boxes again, saw the can right away, thanked God her dad had put in the new lighting and ran back with it.
“Here it is.” She got it down to Cart’s eye level.
“Thanks.” He removed the wrench, grabbed the can and sprayed. The spray cut off instantly. “I forgot this splatters. Can you get the safety goggles? They should be right near where you got this can, and check for my work gloves. I’m having trouble with the grip.”
He went back to working with the wrench.
Another quick trip. In fact, she fetched things for him for a few hectic minutes, glad she was there to be his assistant so he didn’t have to quit working every time he needed something.
He needed a different wrench. He needed a screwdriver, Phillips head. Cart had something for her to get every time she returned.
With a long, shrill squeal of metal, the wrench finally turned. Mandy heard the water cut off.
Cart relaxed and pulled the wrench away, breathing hard, listening to make sure no water was getting through. He gave her a wild look. “That oughta do it.”
“I sure hope so. I’ll go check.” Mandy headed out.
Angel yelled from the top of the stairs, “The water is stopped!”
They heard her feet hurry back up to the second floor.
Cart was just regaining his feet and tugging off the gloves when Mandy came back to him. He swiped the back of his wrist across his sweating brow. “Phew, that’s always exciting when that happens. I’m glad I was here.”
“I’m glad I was here, too. So I could help you.”
She must’ve sounded sincere, because he turned to look at her. “We made a good team.”
Nodding, she couldn’t look away from his blue eyes.
He reached for her, and just before his palm came to rest on her cheek he jerked back.
“What’s the matter?” She knew what. He’d come to his senses, and she’d better hurry up and come to hers.
He held his hand up flat in front of her face. His oily, dirty hand. Then he grinned. “You almost had a black print on your face. And maybe another one on that pretty white sweater. Then Angel would’ve wanted to know what was going on down here.”
Mandy wondered herself.
Leaning down, Cart kissed her, gently, sweetly, only touching her with his lips. He straightened away. “We did make a good team, didn’t we?”
His eyes went to the star necklace. Or at least she thought he was looking at the necklace.
“We really did.” Mandy couldn’t say more, for fear she’d say too much.
Cart finally turned back to the boiler. “Those radiator valves upstairs break once in a long while. So I’ve learned how to keep the system running. I’ve got parts on hand. If I don’t run into unexpected trouble, I can have the radiator repaired in a few minutes, and restore heat to the room right after that.”
“All the improvements to the inn, but you said he didn’t replace the boiler?”
“It was because he thought a furnace made more sense. But it would be structurally hard on the house. He’d have to tear into the walls and even drop some ceilings to accommodate the duct work. He loved the old-fashioned charm of the radiators and he could’ve just updated the boilers, but sometimes a new boiler doesn’t work well with old radiators and his are antiques, impossible to duplicate. The new pipes are too big or too little—I think they told him the new boiler would need specially made pipes to match the antique radiators. Then the water pressure is higher on the newer units, and the radiators can’t handle the pressure. He knew the boiler was past its prime.”
“Way past,” Mandy said dryly.
Nodding, Cart said, “He kept putting off the decision and just never got to it. I suspect I can fix this and you can put it off a little longer.”
“I’ll get the guest room cleaned up.”
“It’s about time for breakfast. I’ll wash up and tell Angel to come back down and help you. No sense cleaning their room until I’m out of it, so let me help them haul their things to their car, so I can check for water damage. Then I’ll make repairs. In the meantime, you can figure out a way to bribe those folks into not holding a grudge.”
“I hope their belongings aren’t soaked.” Mandy flinched to think of ruined Christmas presents. “I can give the couple a free night and maybe comp one more night at some future date in hopes they’ll be tempted to come back.” She heard those words and recognized them for what they were. You couldn’t comp a room if you were closing. Had she made a decision then? She wasn’t sure. She held her breath, expecting Cart to pounce on that statement.
“Sounds good. Now let’s go up before Angel cleans the room and makes and serves breakfast all by herself.”
Mandy grinned at him, sighed with relief that he hadn’t noticed her slip, then led the way upstairs.
She talked with the Doanes and was relieved they weren’t angry. They graciously brushed aside her apologies, accepted the free night with true gratitude and closed themselves in their room to dress for the day.
It being Christmas morning, many of the folks had left early for family gatherings. It didn’t take her long to be done with the few who came down for breakfast.
“I’ll wash the dishes, Angel; you get going.” Mandy knew Angel was eager to get to her daughter’s house. “Before you go”—Mandy lifted the necklace to eye level—“thank you so much for this. It means a lot to me to have something so perfect.”
“You mean so much to me, Mandy.” Angel held Mandy firmly by both shoulders. “I love you like a daughter. Whether you go or stay, I want you to keep in touch and come home once in a while. If the inn closes, I’ll move back to my house. But I want you to consider it your home, too. There’ll always be a room there for you. I’d like you to share holidays with me and mine. You can visit at Christmastime, Easter and Thanksgiving and just any old time you want. I’m going to do a better job of keeping in touch with you.”
Mandy smiled. “I’m finally welcomed home; that’s nice.” She hugged her old friend.
“You clear up from breakfast,” Angel said. “I’ll go see to the Doanes’ bedroom.”
“No, Cart needs some time in there to repair the radiator. By then I’ll be done here and I can tend to the room. Get going now; you need to change and pack up all those gifts in your car.”
Angel smiled. “I guess I’ll go then. Merry Christmas.” She hugged Mandy again.
“Merry Christmas, Angel.” Mandy loved the feel of those warm arms.
Angel smiled, then turned and hurried away.
Mandy tidied up the kitchen, then headed up to the Doanes’ room to clean it. Cart had finished his repairs and was gone.
She’d wanted to wish him a Merry Christmas. But she’d missed her chance.