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Christmas At Swans Nest

A Tale from Lotus Bay

by

Lorraine Bartlett

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Kathy Grant stripped off the heavy-duty work gloves that covered her hands, set them down on a piece of old newspaper, and pushed up the sleeves on her bulky sweatshirt. There was something to be said for a job well done, and she’d just finished stripping the last piece of molding in what had once been the front parlor of the old house she’d purchased just three months before.

However, her admiration soon turned to despair. She’d been working like a dog for ninety-plus days, scrubbing, painting, stripping, and most of all planning, and had often had the help from her best friend forever, Tori Cannon, and her new friends Alissa Jackson, and Noreen Darby, and still there was an incredible amount of work that needed to be accomplished in order to make her deadline of a May first opening date for the Swan’s Nest Inn.

She’d chosen the name because the summer before, a pair of swans had chosen a cozy spot in the marsh not far from her property to raise their cygnets. Unfortunately, the brush on that side of the yard precluded actually seeing the nest from her property, but clearing it was a job for the spring—not to be started on this first day of winter.

As she picked up her tools, brushes, and buckets filled with the goop that had curdled and lifted the chipped and ugly paint to reveal the beautiful old wood beneath, she thought about how much she had already invested in what some in the area were referring to as Kathy’s money pit. Her grandparents had left her a tidy sum of money, but it had been twenty thousand less than she’d anticipated.

The new roof and HVAC system had eaten up nearly half of it. Of course, she originally hadn’t intended to spring for the massive emergency generator that sat at the side of the house, but it seemed a prudent thing to have, since the power seemed to go out for sometimes an hour or two at a time every other week. She never wanted her guests to suffer from the whims of weather or other unfortunate circumstances.

For the last six months, Kathy had been staying at Tori’s home across the street. Now that the house had been replumbed, she was determined to move in before the first of the year, just eleven days away. To do that, she needed to get a few more basics—like a working cook surface, microwave, and refrigerator. The kitchen was the next big project on the schedule, and she and Anissa had already started the demolition. Still, she was sure she could live with some kind of a make-shift arrangement now that she had a reliable water supply, and just as important: a working bathroom, even if the walls were covered with naked drywall.

Kathy rubbed her arms, hoping to warm them. “I’m cold,” she muttered. Of course she was. She’d eked the temperature up to sixty-two for the stripper to work, but was going to have to lower it again to save on heating expenses. With no money coming in—and she hadn’t earned a dime since September—she was beginning to feel as miserly as Ebenezer Scrooge. Not that she didn’t wish her friends well, but she’d told them that there would be no presents from her and to please not buy any for her. Still, she had a feeling she was going to be embarrassed on Christmas Day none-the-less. With no money to travel to see her family—who were all heading to Disney World—Kathy was staying put right here on Lotus Bay, spending the day with Tori, who was nearly as broke. Their friend Anissa was planning to spend the holiday with her mother and brother in Rochester, and Paul and Noreen at the Bay Bar were heading in the opposite direction to Buffalo to be with friends.

Now that the stripping was done, Kathy figured she could get rid of the empty cans, gummy brushes, and nasty rags. She deposited the lot in a big black trash bag, and headed for the door at the back of the house and the trash can beyond.

As she reentered the house, Kathy noticed the tiny corner of a yellowed piece of paper sticking up from a crack between one of the weathered boards. Soon the floor would be covered in ceramic tile to make cleaning a snap. She hadn’t seen it when she and Anissa had ripped up the various layers of old linoleum, but it intrigued her. She crouched down, and picked at the sliver of paper, but couldn’t get a good enough hold to yank it out. What she needed was a pair of tweezers—and there wasn’t a set in the house. She did, however, have several different sized pairs of pliers. Choosing the needle-nosed ones, Kathy gave the paper a yank, and felt it begin to tear. She didn’t want it to break off, so instead of pulling, she tried gently tugging it back and forth until she could ease the scrap out of its prison. She placed the pliers on the floor and smoothed out the paper onto her knee, reading it.

To find what you seek

Go to the attic so neat

Look six paces east

Under the beast.

Kathy looked at the note quizzically. Was this someone’s idea of a joke?

Pounding on the front door interrupted Kathy's musings, she picked up the pliers and stuffed the shred of paper into her pants pocket, got up, and ran to the front parlor. She peered out the window and saw Anissa's truck backed up in front of the steps. She hurried to let her friend in.

“Merry Christmas early,” Anissa called from the bottom step.

“What in the world?”

“I brought your present.”

“Oh, Anissa. I thought we agreed we weren't going to exchange gifts.”

“Honey, this is one item you will not want to return.”

Kathy looked beyond her friend and into the truck's cargo area to see a huge, stainless steel six-burner Vulcan stove—reminiscent of what Kathy had hoped to buy for her Inn.

“Holy cow! Where did you get that?”

“I heard about a restaurant in Batavia that was moving to a better location. They were replacing a load of their appliances. I got this for a song. I checked it out. Nothing wrong that a good cleaning won't solve.”

“I don't know what to say except—thank you a million times!”

Anissa grinned. “If you want to repay me, I wouldn't say no to a batch of your cutout cookies to take to my Mama's house for Christmas dessert.”

“I'll make you a batch of cookies every day for the next year,” Kathy said and laughed. “But how will the two of us ever get this thing up the stairs and into my kitchen?”

“It just so happens there are six vehicles parked in front of the Bay Bar. I'll bet if you bought a round of drinks, the guys who own them would move it for you. I could hook it up today and you could be baking that batch of cookies tomorrow.”

Her heart felt so large, Kathy wondered if it might just bust out of her chest. “I'll bet you're right.”

“Go get your coat and let's go,” Anissa said. “We’ve got work to do.”

Kathy nodded, but before she went back inside, she jogged down the steps to give her friend the biggest hug she could muster, fighting back tears, sure that this would be a Christmas to remember.

“Wow,” Tori Cannon said, her voice hushed. “I feel like a piker.” She took in the big stainless steel stove sitting in the ruin of a kitchen in the Swans Nest Inn with its six burners and double ovens. “I only got you a crappy case of mediocre wine.”

“Oh, Tori—now you've spoiled the surprise,” Kathy said with a frown.

“How can my lousy gift compare with this?”

“I'm not keeping score,” Kathy said, sounding hurt. “Anissa knew buying a new stove would put my budget in the Twilight Zone. I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank her. But this means I can spend thousands of dollars on other projects. It'll help me get the inn open on time, which I was almost sure would never happen.”

Tori nodded. She was glad of that. She knew her BFF had been kept awake at night worrying about her ability to make all the needed improvements to her house in time to open her business in the spring—her budget deficit being the heaviest drain on her soul.

“Does this mean you can move in sooner than you'd planned?” Tori asked. Since her grandfather had relocated to Florida just three months before, she now owned his former home and she and Kathy had been roommates—just as they'd been in college. It was a blessing, because they got along well. Kathy was a great and inventive cook, and Tori had found enough substitute teaching in the county school district to keep them both afloat. Working weekdays meant that she couldn't keep the bait shop she'd bought for the enormous sum of one dollar open during the week, and the income from sales on the weekends weren't enough to float any kind of a boat, but she was in the black—if only by a thread—and that was all that really mattered.

“Are you really thinking of moving into Swans Nest?” Tori asked, trying to keep her voice neutral. She knew Kathy fully intended to build an owner's suite on the back of the building at some time in the future—but who knew how long it would be before she could afford that. The truth was, Tori liked having Kathy as her roommate. She liked coming home from work to find a home-cooked meal, the house immaculate, and someone to share the woes of the day—and Kathy had a lot to say, as well. They spent a lot of time planning the future, as well as talking about the past. They both had plans that didn't necessarily include a significant other. Not that they wouldn't allow for that—but the phrase “unlucky in love” could very well apply to both of them.

“Tomorrow is my last day of work at the school until the new year. So I'm available to help with anything you need done until then.”

“What about opening the bait shop?”

“I haven't ordered any stock for more than a month. This is definitely not the busy time of year for sales. Why should I sit in a freezing cold shop for ten hours a day to sell ten bucks worth of bait when I can help you?”

Kathy's eyes brimmed with tears. “Why, indeed.”

Tori shook her head. “If it weren't for you, this would be the crappiest Christmas on record.”

“I feel the same way. I dug through my totes and found my favorite Christmas DVDs. If nothing else, the two of us can binge on them and that case of wine you mentioned.”

Tori smiled. “That sounds like a plan.” She looked around the kitchen, then over her shoulder back to the front of the house. “Have you decided what room you’re going to use as a bedroom?”

“I don’t want to lug a lot of furniture up the stairs that won’t be staying in place, so I’ll probably just camp out in the parlor.”

“You know you can stay with me for as long as you want.”

“I know. But I feel guilty when I come over here to work until late at night and then come back to your place and wake you up—especially when you’ve got to work the next day.”

“I’m not that light a sleeper.”

“I know, but….” She said no more.

Tori thought she knew the problem. They’d talked about spiffing up her grandparents’ former home, which still looked like it belonged to an older couple. Tori hadn’t had a lot of furniture when she’d moved in. Most of what was left in the house had been purchased when her father was a child. Neither she nor Kathy had had time to paint, so all they’d done was change the pictures on the walls—well, some of them. The TV worked great, but it was of the last generation of massive sets that took up an enormous piece of real estate in the living room. Instead, they’d spent all their free time working on the long-neglected house across the road.

Tori didn’t resent being roped in to help, but renovation was tedious, as well as exhausting. Too many times they’d finished working at eleven or later, and she’d fallen into bed and it seemed almost immediately the alarm clock would ring for her to get up and go to work—at least when she’d had work. She’d stumble out of bed, shower and dress, and Kathy would have a hot pot of tea and breakfast waiting for her. And Kathy was no slouch. When Tori went to work, Kathy crossed the road and went to work on her house. But there was only so much one five foot six woman could do on her own.

Tori watched as Kathy continued to scrub the inside of the oven. “You’re using a lot of elbow grease.”

“I want to bake some cookies for Christmas in this beauty. I promised Anissa a few batches for her holiday dessert.”

“I hope you’re going to make some for us, too.”

“I sure am. And I’ll send Noreen and Paul off with a container, too. It’s the least I can do as a thank you for all they’ve done to help me.”

“You weren’t thinking of working over here on Christmas Day, were you?”

“I don’t know. It depends.”

“On what?”

“On how the day goes. Why, did you have plans?”

“Just watching old movies on TV. You work too hard; you should be able to take just one day off.”

But Kathy shook her head. “I have exactly one hundred and thirty-one days to pull off this renovation.”

“You know down to the minute when you’re opening?”

Kathy shrugged. “I downloaded an app that counts off the days. It keeps me on track.”

“All work and no play makes Kathy a dull girl.”

Kathy paused in her scrubbing, and looked over her shoulder at Tori, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’m sorry, Tori. I know I’m no fun to hang out with anymore. It’s just—”

“I was kidding!” Tori cried, but deep down she knew she’d been speaking the truth. When Tori looked around, the chores left to do seemed insurmountable to her. “And if you want to work on Christmas Day, I’ll be right here with you.”

“You’re the best friend anyone could ever have.”

“Don’t get mushy on me. Put me to work.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kathy said, in what Tori liked to tease her was her drill sergeant voice. “I do believe there are barges to be toted, and some bales to be lifted. But first—” she peeled off the filthy rubber gloves on her hands. “Help me up and we’ll christen this baby with its first pot of tea.”

“Sounds great to me.”

“Just one problem,” Kathy said as Tori pulled her to her feet.

“And that is?”

“My kettle is packed in a box in the basement somewhere, and I don’t have any tea.”

“You go look for the kettle, and I’ll go get some teabags.”

“And while the water boils, we can wash a few cups.” Kathy paused, smiling. “You know what, Tor? You’re the Swans Nest’s first guest.”

“Hey, that’s cool.”

“And I couldn’t wish for anyone better.”

The crowd was sparse at the Bay Bar four days later on Christmas Eve when Kathy and Tori arrived about six forty-five. Officially, the bar would close promptly at seven, but Kathy, Tori, and their friend Anissa had been invited to join owners Noreen and Paul Darby for a soup and sandwich supper. Not exactly a party, but a small celebration, something Kathy had been looking forward to for days.

“Sit down,” Paul called, indicating empty seats at the bar, but first the women shucked their coats and placed them on chairs at one of the empty tables. Then Kathy stepped forward with her contribution to their repast.

“Oh, good,” Paul said, spying the treat. “I swear, nobody makes cookies as good as you do, Kath.”

“Just something I picked up from my grandma,” she said, smiling, but never tired of hearing that particular compliment. “I made them in my new oven, which bakes like a dream.”

“Is that Tori and Kathy?” Noreen called from the kitchen. Already, Kathy caught the aroma of homemade New England clam chowder—and knew from experience it would be as good as what she’d ever tasted in Maine.

“Yep. We’re here.”

“Just waiting on Anissa now,” Paul called back. “What’ll you have to drink?” he asked the women.

“I’ll have a white Russian,” Kathy said.

“Oh, that sounds good. Me, too,” Tori agreed.

“Coming right up.”

On the stereo, Kenny Chesney wailed that all he wanted for Christmas was a good tan as Paul served up the drinks. “Closing in ten minutes,” he told the stragglers at the other end of the bar.

“What about those chicks?” a guy in a black leather jacket asked, nodding toward Kathy and Tori.

“They’re family,” Paul said, giving the women a wink.

Both women grinned.

The door opened, and with it came a blast of cold air. “It’s not a fit night out for man nor beast,” Anissa declared. “And luckily, I’m neither!”

“Merry Christmas,” Kathy and Tori chorused.

“And to you, too! Hey, Paul.”

“Anissa,” he called in greeting.

Anissa held a tray wrapped in aluminum foil. She walked over to the bar and set it down. “What’ve you got there?” Paul asked.

“Cocktail weenies wrapped in puff pastries. If Noreen can pop them in the oven for ten minutes, they’ll heat up just fine.”

Noreen ducked her head around the swinging door from the kitchen. “Hi, Anissa. Paul, bring them back here and I’ll get them warming. But first I want to visit for a bit.”

“Sure thing, honey.” He turned to Anissa. “Sit down, and I’ll get you a drink when I get back.”

Anissa took off her coat, setting it on one of the chairs by the other coats before she sat down next to Kathy at the bar.

“That was some wind that blew you in.”

“I know. When I left the house, there wasn’t any at all, but by the time I came down Resort Road, it was howling like a banshee.”

Paul returned to stand behind the bar, just as the last of his paying customers got up to leave. “Merry Christmas,” he called.

They nodded and headed out the door.

“What’s with the sudden wind?” Anissa asked Paul.

He shrugged. “I can tell you haven’t lived on the bay for a long time. Storms come across from Canada and that’s when you say to yourself, ‘I ain’t leavin’ the house ’til spring.’”

“It better not be the case,” Tori said. “I need to get as much substitute teaching as I can get to stay afloat this winter.

“And I need to be able to get to any jobs I get booked for,” Anissa agreed.

Noreen came through the swinging door to join them. “We don’t worry so much because of the snowmobile trade. Ya get cold and hungry out in the wind and snow, ya know.” She poked her husband’s shoulder. “I thought you were gonna make Anissa a drink. I could use one, too.”

“What’ll you have, girls?”

Anissa eyed Kathy’s drink. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

“Me, too,” Noreen said, and Paul reached for the Kahlua once more.

Paul poured himself a beer and soon they were toasting to a happy holiday.

Tori pulled the plastic wrap off the platter Kathy had brought along and plucked up a tea cake. “These are the best.”

“Oh, no,” Anissa disagreed. “Kathy’s best are the ones with anise.”

“Not a chance,” said Doreen. Kathy had blessed her with a large plate of cookies earlier in the day. “I’m partial to her molasses cookies. They’re just like my grandma used to make.”

“I’m not a sweets man, myself,” Paul—the male in the minority—said. “I’m waiting to pig out on Anissa’s appetizers.”

“Which will be ready in a jiffy,” Noreen said, but didn’t make a move toward the kitchen. The CD ended, so she got up to put on more Christmas music.

Tori reached for another of Kathy’s cookies. “This is the first year I haven’t spent Christmas with my family. It feels a little weird.”

“Wait’ll you get older, kid,” Paul advised, “You’ll find that it’s just another day of the year. Call your family often; don’t just make one day of the year a time to connect with them.”

Kathy knew that Paul had lost his parents some years before, and she made a mental note to call her folks first thing in the morning.

Bing Crosby began to croon White Christmas and Paul groaned. “Can’t we have something a little newer.”

“Oh, no!” Anissa protested. “My Daddy always played this Christmas record every year. That’s how I learned that Hawaii was our fiftieth state. I couldn’t pronounce Mele Kalikimaka and my whole family thought it was hysterical when I’d try to sing along.”

“I would’ve liked to have seen that,” Tori said and laughed.

“Unfortunately, it was captured on tape. My brother had it converted and uploaded it to YouTube, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you know that URL.”

“Aw, that’s not fair,” Kathy protested, but then she hoped her own brother would never get the same idea. There were some pretty embarrassing childhood exploits her parents had caught on video that she wouldn’t want her friends to see, either.

Noreen looked toward the big picture window that overlooked Lotus Bay just across the street. “Well, it certainly looks like we’re going to get a white Christmas after all. Maybe a little too white.”

“And listen to that wind,” Anissa said. “I’m not so much afraid of snow, but the wind is a lot scarier.”

“I kind of like listening to the wind during the winter,” Tori admitted. “It doesn’t scare me at all.”

“It’s not the sound,” Anissa clarified, “it’s the force, and what it can do. Like knocking the branches off brittle old trees, and them falling on power lines and the next thing you know, you’re shivering in the dark.”

“Does the power around here go off a lot during the winter?” Tori asked Paul.

He shrugged. “Depends on not just the weather but jerks who drive like it’s summer and don’t pay attention to the road conditions, crash, and knock out a utility pole.”

“Can’t we talk about something more fun—like the best present we ever got for Christmas?” Noreen asked.

“I’m game,” Kathy said. “When I was four, my parents bought me a little pink kitchen set. It had a stove, a little sink that could run real water—if you filled a reservoir, only they did that once and I flooded the family floor rug, so I had to pretend after that. It had a fridge with fake, plastic food. I made a lot of pretend meals for my family. What was your favorite gift, Tor?”

Tori scratched her head. “Well, let’s see.” All eyes turned toward her as her expression darkened and she frowned. “Gee, nothing seems particularly memorable. I mean, we always had a lot of presents under the tree every year, but nothing really stands out. Except that my Gramma Josie always got me a new pair of jammies and a book.”

“A book? That sounds pretty boring,” Paul said.

“No, they were wonderful fairytales or biographies about women who did fantastic things, like Amelia Earhart piloting airplanes, and Marie Curie discovering radiation. I remember getting one about Mary Jamison, who was captured by the Iroquois Indians and lived her whole life with them. It was fascinating. I think I read that book twenty times.” She looked wistful. “I sure wish I still had it. I’d read it again in a heartbeat.”

Bing transitioned into Silver Bells. “How about you, Noreen?”

Noreen’s smile was wistful. “I was seven and Santa brought me the most gorgeous baby doll. Oh, how I loved her. I named her Annabelle, and I treated her as if she was my own baby. Maybe I have such fond memories of her because I never ended up having a child of my own.” She shrugged. “I sure wish I’d met Paul when I was a lot younger, then maybe I’d have been a mom.”

“I think my ex-wife would have had something to say about that,” Paul said wryly.

“You never had kids, either?” Anissa asked.

Paul frowned. “I did. A little guy named Nicky. He had a heart condition. They said he wouldn’t live to be a year old, but he was a fighter. He made it to age ten, but it was a terrible life for all of us. We lived on the edge waiting for his next medical crisis. When he died, it tore our marriage apart. The truth was, we never had time for each other because all our love was tied up in little Nick and keeping him alive. We also forgot there were other people in our lives. I regret the time I lost with my parents, and aunts and uncles, and I vowed I wouldn’t make that mistake in the future.” He looked fondly at Noreen.

She smiled wryly. “I don’t know about that. We spend twenty-four/seven together and the bar is our baby, so maybe we are in the same situation, but for the most part, I’m pretty darn happy.”

“Me, too, sweetie,” Paul said, and leaned over to give his wife a kiss.

“Awwww,” Kathy, Tori, and Anissa chorused.

Noreen blushed, and cleared her throat. “What was your most memorable gift, Anissa?”

She grinned. “Tap shoes.”

“Really?” Tori said. “I didn’t know you could dance.”

“Who said I could dance? I just liked to make a lot of noise and drive my brother crazy. My Daddy gave me a big square of Masonite to practice on and I’d wait until my brother was watching his favorite TV show and then I’d start tapping.” She gave an evil laugh. “It drove James right up the wall.”

“You bad girl, you,” Tori scolded, smiling.

“Okay, Paul; it’s your turn,” Kathy said.

He looked thoughtful. “A minibike. Of course, getting it for Christmas sucked because you can’t ride a minibike in the snow, so I had to wait until March to give it a try. But I used to wax it and admire it. I’m surprised I didn’t slip off the seat the first time I drove it.” They all laughed and then Noreen sniffed the air.

“Oh, crap. I almost forgot Anissa’s appetizers.” She ran into the kitchen and everyone else looked at each other with trepidation. But not more than a minute later, Noreen returned with a platter of the golden brown tasties and a box of frill picks. “Okay, everybody, dig in!”

“Can I freshen up anyone’s drinks?” Paul called, and was promptly presented with four empty glasses.

They laughed, ate their soup and cocktail weenies, and talked for another hour before Anissa looked out the big window. “Holy crap! It must have snowed six inches since I arrived. I hate to be a party pooper, but if I don’t want to walk home tonight, I’d better get while the getting’s good.”

“You could always stay with us,” Tori said.

“That’s sweet of you, but I’d much rather sleep in my own bed than on a couch.” She gathered up her coat, tied her scarf around her neck, donned gloves and a wooly hat, looking like she might be heading to Antarctica. “Merry Christmas, everybody!”

“Merry Christmas!” they all called as she opened the door and a blast of icy air assaulted them.

“We should probably head home, too,” Tori said. “It’s time to feed the cats.”

It was with reluctance that Kathy slipped off the stool and followed her friend to retrieve their coats.

“Thanks for a great evening,” Kathy called as she bundled up.

“I’ll second that,” Tori said, and pulled her knitted cap down over her eyebrows.

“Merry Christmas,” they all wished each other as Kathy and Tori pushed out into the snow.

Thanks to the gale, the tracks from Anissa’s truck were already beginning to fill in. Tori led the way as the women pushed against the wind in near white-out conditions. They trudged across the road and it took a couple of minutes to travel what normally took mere seconds to arrive back at the Cannon compound. Tori unlocked the door and turned on the lights and the women peeled off their outer-wear, hanging it up on hooks just outside the kitchen. The three cats—Tori’s Daisy, and Kathy’s boys, Henry and Larry—arrived to tell their tales of starvation, so feeding them was their first priority. Once the cats were chowing on some ocean seafood concoction, it was time to turn to more serious matters.

“What do you want to do now?” Tori asked. “Eat more cookies?”

“I’m cookied out,” Kathy admitted, but I wouldn’t mind a mug of hot chocolate with a huge glob of whipped cream and a little cinnamon on the top.”

“Coming right up. Why don’t you go plug the Christmas tree back in and see if you can find a holiday movie to watch on the tube.”

“Great idea,” Kathy said, but no sooner had she said it when the lights flashed and went out.

“Okay,” Tori said. “Let’s count to thirty to see if the power comes back on.”

They did, twice, and then both of them went in search of candles.

Once the candles were lit—scenting the air with cinnamon and pine, but giving off scant light—the friends looked at one another. “Well, no cocoa,” Tori announced, thanks to the electric range, “but we should probably fire up the wood stove in the living room—just in case.”

“Do you think we’re going to need it?”

“You heard what Paul said earlier about power outages, and I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

Tori’s grandfather, Herb, had stressed a number of times that during the winter they should always keep the wood box next to the stove full at all times, and as they loaded it and lit the kindling, they were glad they’d heeded the old man’s warning.

Once the fire was going, they retreated to their favorite seats—Kathy on the couch, and Tori in her grandfather’s ratty old recliner which she hadn’t yet replaced—they pulled crocheted afghans that Tori’s late grandmother had made over themselves, and the cats joined them.

“How about I stream some Christmas music on my phone?” Tori asked.

“Sounds good to me,” Kathy agreed, and in no time the tinny sound of holiday tunes helped brighten the gloom. “I wonder how long it will be before the power comes back on.”

“No idea,” Tori said.

“I hope it comes on before the morning. We’ve got a fridge full of food that could spoil.”

“We’ve also got nature’s freezer right out the front door,” Tori said, and laughed. “Besides, if we had to, we could take our stuff across the road to your house. You do have a generator, after all.”

“Oh! I’d completely forgotten about that.”

“It’s a good thing I’m around to keep you on your toes.”

“I’m definitely not a ballerina,” Kathy said.

The two of them—and the cats—listened to a choral group sing Silent Night, and Kathy wondered if she was making the right decision to move into her house. After all, she might own the place, but until she could build the owner’s suite on the back of it, the rest of the bedrooms were designated guest rooms.

Henry and Larry snuggled close to Kathy as the wind continued to howl outside. It was anything other than a silent night, but they were safe in Tori’s little house, with wood for the fire, and flickering candlelight.

The question was: would that be enough?

The sky was still dark when Tori awoke feeling stiff from sleeping in the recliner, and cold. She’d had to get up every couple of hours to refill the wood stove, but it wasn’t enough to keep the house very warm. The power had been off nearly eight hours, and though she’d called the power company to report the outage, she’d been given no explanation as to what had happened or a timeline on when it would be fixed.

Sometime during the night, Kathy must have put a pot of water on the stove. The higher humidity helped the living room feel a tiny bit warmer, but the added bonus was they could at least make cocoa for their breakfast.

No sooner had Tori refilled the stove’s nearly empty belly, when Kathy stirred. “Are you getting up and staying up?”

Tori nodded. “If only to put on another sweater. I’m cold.”

“What do you want to do about breakfast?”

“We have a choice of cold cereal or bread. That’s about it.”

“If we go over to Swans Nest, we could have French toast.”

“With maple syrup?”

“Only if you’ve got a jug of it that we can take with us.”

“We could pack a cooler with stuff and take it over there,” Tori said. “But what about the cats?”

“They’ll be okay here for a couple of hours. But if the power is off for very much longer, we could bring them over to the inn, too.”

“I’ve got to bring in wood from the pile and I’d have to come over here every couple of hours to make sure the stove doesn’t go out and the pipes don’t freeze.”

“I could help you with that,” Kathy promised.

“Then it sounds like a plan. Of course, you know the minute we get across the street, the power will come back on.”

“Then let’s hope that happens.”

“Right.”

And so they got dressed, and while Tori brought in more wood, Kathy loaded a cooler with everything they’d need for a sumptuous breakfast.

It was hard to tell just how much it had snowed, thanks to the ever-blowing wind, but they had to slog through knee-deep drifts to get to Swans Nest. Anissa had nailed a board with a row of pegs onto a couple of the studs, and they peeled off their snowy coats, hats, and scarves and hung them on it. Coming in from Tori’s cold home, the inn felt positively balmy, despite the fact Kathy knew she’d left the heat set at fifty-eight degrees. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t turn the heat up any higher, but as it’s Christmas,” Kathy began.

They hauled the cooler into the kitchen, where they could hear the roar of the propane-fueled generator chugging away out back. The stove also ran on propane, and Kathy had had both tanks filled just the month before. While Tori unpacked the cooler, Kathy disappeared into the basement. Only she knew which of her totes held what. On her first trip back up the stairs, she bought an assortment of pots and pans. She washed and dried them in the old farm sink, then started breaking eggs, measuring the milk, and getting the French toast going, while Tori put the bacon on the stove and tended it while it cooked.

They were just about to eat standing at the counter—since all the furniture Kathy had accumulated was still stored in the basement—when they heard banging on the front door. She ran to the door to answer it and found Paul and Anissa waiting on the steps. Behind them, was Paul’s snowmobile. “Merry Christmas,” Anissa called. “I’m here to bleed Tori’s water lines.”

“What?”

“The power company says we may not get the juice back on until tomorrow morning. It’s better to be safe than sorry,” Paul called.

“Can it wait long enough for us to eat breakfast? We’ve got hot coffee, French toast, and bacon. Are you hungry?”

“Am I!” Anissa declared.

“Can I go get Noreen? She’s been munching crackers and complaining.”

“Sure, we’ve got enough for everybody,” Kathy said.

Anissa followed her inside and took off her coat, hat, and gloves while Paul headed next door to retrieve his wife.

“Looks like I won’t be going to Rochester for Christmas dinner,” Anissa said after greeting Tori and wishing her a Merry Christmas, too. “The main roads are a priority, but with this blowing snow, I don’t want to risk that forty-mile drive.”

“Your family will be disappointed you can’t make it,” Kathy said.

“Christmas is for kids, and my mother and brother and sister-in-law will be too busy spoiling the grandkids to even notice I’m among the missing. Besides, I’ll see them for Kwanza, anyway.”

“Well, I’m sorry you can’t be with them today, but Kathy bought a huge roasting chicken, we’ll have plenty. Why don’t you join us for Christmas dinner?”

“I can’t think of a better place to be,” Anissa said and gratefully accepted a cup of coffee.

“I’d better go back downstairs and get some more dishes,” Kathy said, and then paused. “Hey, guess what? You guys are my first breakfast guests here at Swans Nest.”

“I’d call that a pretty big honor,” Tori said, and smiled.

Kathy smiled back. Yes, and she was determined to treat her premier guests as though they were the most important people in the world—because right then, they were.

By the time Anissa had bled the water lines at Tori’s home and the bait shop, and Paul’s and Noreen’s home and their bar, it was time to start thinking about Christmas dinner.

While the others were gone, Tori had gone back and forth to the Cannon compound to check on the cats and add more wood to the stove, as well as ferry food, dishes, and other sundries Kathy needed to prepare a festive dinner for five. And it wasn’t easy. Slogging through all that snow was exhausting.

She and Kathy had just started to bring up the chairs to Kathy’s grandmother’s mahogany dining room set when Anissa, Paul, and Noreen arrived.

“Paul and I can handle that big table,” Anissa announced.

“Oh, yeah?” Paul asked, skeptically.

“Sure.”

“Can I help in the kitchen?” Noreen asked.

“I’d love some help,” Kathy said.

“I can help, too,” Tori said, feeling just a little bit left out.

“There’s more than enough to do,” Kathy said, and led them into the kitchen. “Would you mind peeling the potatoes?” she asked Noreen.

“Not a bit.”

Tori wandered the kitchen rather restlessly while Kathy got a cutting board, knife, and peeler for Noreen. It was then she noticed the yellowed piece of paper held on the door of the battered fridge by a magnet. She read the spidery handwriting.

To find what you seek

Go to the attic so neat

Look six paces east

Under the beast.

“Hey, what’s this, Kath?”

Kathy turned. “Just a piece of paper I found the other day under a board in the kitchen. I’d almost forgotten about it. I thought I might check it out, but I haven’t had a chance.”

Tori removed the paper and read it again. “This sounds like it could be a treasure hunt.”

“A what?” Noreen asked, looking up from her task at the counter.

Tori read the clue aloud.

“Do you think that’s legit?” Noreen asked.

Kathy shrugged. “I’m sure if there was treasure hidden somewhere in the house, it’s long gone by now. I mean, the place was a shambles, which is why it’s going to cost me a mint to repair and restore what I can.”

“How soon are we going to eat?” Tori asked.

“Not for at least another hour,” Kathy said.

“Then we’ve got time to investigate.”

“Investigate what?” Anissa said as she entered the big square kitchen.

“Kathy’s treasure hunt.”

“A treasure hunt? Is this some kind of a Christmas party game?”

Tori shook her head and handed Anissa the note. “Whoa. This sounds like it could be fun.”

“I’m for fun,” Paul said, coming up from behind her. “Especially since there’s not much to do while we wait for the dinner to cook—unless we want to just sit around on hard chairs and get drunk.”

“There’ll be no getting drunk!” Noreen admonished.

“How about a little bit tipsy?” Anissa offered.

Noreen’s gaze hardened.

“Okay, okay. Then treasure hunt it is.”

“Let me see that,” Paul said, and Anissa handed the paper to him. He read it and frowned. “Sounds bogus to me. Are you sure we can’t just sit around and drink?”

“I’m sure.”

“Where did you find the note?” Anissa asked, and Kathy explained.

“Do you think we need any tools?” Tori asked.

Anissa shrugged. “Maybe a hammer, a screwdriver, and a chisel.”

“I’ve got those tools down in the basement,” Kathy said.

“I’ll go get them. You guys start the treasure hunt.”

“I really need to keep my eye on the dinner,” Kathy said.

“No need, honey. I’m an experienced cook. Been doing it for six years now. I won’t let anything burn. You take a few minutes off and have a little fun. All you’ve done today is work, work, work.”

“We all have,” Tori said. The muscles in her legs were fatigued, and she figured by the next day they’d be protesting even louder at their mistreatment.

Kathy shrugged. “Okay.”

“Do you have a flashlight?” Paul asked.

Kathy stooped to retrieve a big blue light that she kept under the sink. “Right here.”

Paul bowed and swung his arm forward. “After you, ma’am.”

Kathy led the way to the front of the house and up the first set of stairs, down the hall, and the more narrow stairway that led to the attic.

Tori had never been in the attic, but wasn’t surprised that upon opening the door, Kathy reached for a light switch. She flipped it and entered, with Tori and Paul following.

Tori knew that Kathy was considering transforming the space to a suite for guests, but didn’t realize how much headroom there actually was. Once finished off and decorated, it would make a cozy retreat. Of course, that would be after installing a hefty amount of insulation. She rubbed her arms to warm them.

Although Tori had helped clean out the rest of the house—and there had been very little worth salvaging—she hadn’t realized that the attic still contained a number of cartons and trunks that Kathy hadn’t yet had time to sort through.

“Six paces east,” Paul said, reciting part of their clue. “Looks like we’re going to have to move a ton of junk to see it.”

“Then I guess we’d better start,” Tori said, and reached for the nearest box, picking it up and carrying it to an open spot on the west side of the attic.

Kathy set the flashlight down and she and Paul started moving the junk, too.

“What’s in these boxes? Lead weights?” Paul said as he hefted a small wooden crate.

“You’ve got me,” Kathy said.

It took several minutes to clear a space. Paul moved to the attic door and took six paces. “What did it say about a beast?”

“To look under a beast.” Tori glanced all around her. “What beast?”

Kathy shrugged. “Maybe there was a deer head hanging here at one time?”

“Where’s that flashlight?” Paul asked.

Kathy located it and handed it to him. He raked the beam across the floor several times. “Whoa, what’s this?” he asked and crouched down. “Got a rag or something?”

Kathy pushed past Tori and retrieved a piece of rag from one of the boxes, handing it to Paul. He wiped at the dusty floor.

“Well, would you look at that?”

The women crouched down beside him. There, in faded red paint was a rather crude drawing of a wolf’s head.

“Looks pretty beastly to me,” Tori said.

Anissa arrived with the tools. “Sorry it took me so long. I couldn’t find the pry bar. What have you got?”

“The beast’s head,” Tori said, and pointed.

Anissa bent down, squinting in the bad light. “The guy was no Rembrandt.”

“Do you really think there’s treasure under that board?” Tori asked skeptically.

“We won’t know until we pull it up.” Wasting no time, Anissa went to work with the pry bar. The wood was old and was quite happy to stay where it had been for more than a hundred years, but Anissa worked at it until the rusty old nails squealed in protest at being yanked from their imprisonment. But instead of there being a box or bag of treasure, all that was in the space below the board was yet another note. Anissa handed it to Kathy, who shone the light on it. She read it aloud.

The parlor is nice

—so do not think twice

the window northwest

is surely the best

Anissa frowned. “The guy was no poet, either.”

“What a pisser,” Paul complained. “And after we moved all that junk to get at it.”

“What now?” Tori asked.

“I guess we check out the parlor,” Kathy said.

“How many more notes do you think we’re liable to find?”

Kathy shrugged, but gestured for the others to head out of the attic. She was the last to leave, turning off the light and following Tori down the stairs.

Paul had taken the steps two at a time and was already inspecting the parlor’s northwest window when the rest of them caught up.

“See anything unusual?” Anissa asked.

“Just nasty cheap windows.”

“The installer won’t put the replacements in until February,” Kathy said, sounding resigned.

“They left the original woodwork,” Anissa said, inspecting the left side of the casing. “You did a nice job of stripping everything, Kathy.”

“After doing so many rooms, I could probably make a living at it,” she said, but didn’t sound at all enthused.

“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary while you worked on this window?”

Kathy shook her head.

“What about underneath?” Tori asked.

Anissa got down on her knees and looked up at the underside of the casing. “Hey, there’s a little piece that was notched out. It’s got one nail in it. I might need a chisel to get it out. Do you mind if I give it a try, Kath?”

“I guess not. Nobody’s going to see it unless they lie on the floor.”

Paul handed Anissa the chisel and she got right to work.

“One thing’s for sure,” Tori said. “There isn’t going to be any treasure behind a little piece of wood. Where do you think the next clue on this wild goose chase is going to lead us?”

A little rectangle of wood popped out and landed on the floor. Anissa dug into the hiding space and came up with another piece of folded paper. “You can have the honors, Kathy.”

Kathy unfolded the paper and once again recited the verse.

Dinner is served

So do not be swerved

The treasure you seek

Is close to the seat.

“The seat?” Tori asked.

“The window seat,” Anissa said.

Paul gave her a hand and pulled her to her feet and the four of them traipsed to the dining room where the table Paul and Anissa had brought up from the basement now stood in the middle of the room.

Noreen joined them from the kitchen. “How’s the hunt going?”

Kathy shrugged. “We just found our third clue. It says the treasure is somewhere in this room close to the window seat.”

Noreen frowned. “That could cover a lot of territory.”

The five of them looked at each other. “What do you think?” Kathy asked.

Anissa shrugged. “We could pull up a lot of floorboards or wreck the plaster and come up with a whole lot of nothing.”

“The window seat is built in. Maybe you just have to take a couple of boards out to see,” Tori suggested.

They moved en masse to look at the once-pretty window seat. The wood had been badly abused over the years, with gouges and dents. Kathy had stripped it of paint, leaving it looking lackluster and in need of some tender loving care. “I was going to cover the top with an upholstered pillow, so I don’t think taking a couple of the boards from the top is going to do it much harm.”

“Okay.” Again, Anissa used the pry bar to pull away a strip of wood about a foot long and three inches wide. “Take a peek, Kath.”

Kathy stepped forward with the flashlight and shone it into the opening, scrutinizing the space. “I can’t see anything. Can you take off another piece?”

“I can dismantle the whole thing, if you want.” And to prove it, Anissa pulled off another two strips of wood. Again Kathy shone the light inside and shook her head.

“What the hell,” Paul said. “Take the whole top off.”

Anissa removed another two pieces of wood, but it was apparent there was nothing to be found inside the cavity.

“That’s too bad,” Noreen said. “I’d better get back to the kitchen and check on that bird.”

“I could sure go for a beer,” Paul said, and followed behind her.

“I’ll have to go downstairs and see if I can find some nails to put that wood back on the window seat,” Anissa said. “And then I think I’ll join Paul in having a beer.”

Kathy stood over the window seat, looking resigned. “I guess I never really thought there would be any treasure, but it was kind of fun to hope.”

She turned and headed for the kitchen.

Tori knelt before the window seat. No doubt about it, there was nothing inside the structure. Did the person who’d written the notes do it as a prank, or had he (or she) honestly hidden something of value in the house for someone in his (or her) unknown future to find?

Kathy had left the flashlight behind, and Tori picked it up, turned it on, and ran the beam all along the bottom of the area. Maybe Anissa should just put it back together as it was. If she made a new top out of the old wood, and added some hinges, the seat could also be used as storage—and why hadn’t the original owner thought of that?

It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. What kind of satisfaction could one of the home’s past residents get by sending an unknown future owner on a wild goose chase? And why hide treasure at all—leaving clues hidden in the house? What would motivate someone to go to so much trouble for an unknown outcome?

Again, Tori ran the flashlight over the bottom of the box. None of the floor boards looked like they’d ever been tampered with. But the verse had specified that the treasure was close to the seat.

Tori ran the light in the upper left corner. Was that a patch in the plaster? If so, it had been carefully done, because she could barely see the repair lines.

Tori looked toward the kitchen, where she could hear Kathy, Paul, and Noreen conversing. Anissa hadn’t come back from her foray to the basement. The chisel still lay on the floor, along with the pry bar and claw hammer. What could it hurt to knock a chunk of plaster off the wall to take a peek? Once Anissa repaired the top of the window seat, nobody would see the damage she’d caused.

Tori picked up the heavy hammer and hefted it. Again she looked around before she gave the plaster a tap. The hard surface was dimpled, but not cracked. She gave it another go. Still no real damage, and she remembered what her grandfather had once told her. “You’re choking the hammer. Hold it closer to the bottom and you’ll have more control.” So she did, and gave the plaster a mighty whack. The hammerhead not only cracked the plaster, but penetrated it, and she struggled to pull it back through the hole she’d made. Another two taps and most of the patch had been knocked out. Tori put the hammer down and picked up the flashlight, shining it into the hole. Funny enough, there was no lath behind where the patch had been, and there was also no sign of any treasure, either.

Tori sat back on her heels. Okay, no treasure. But what if the prize had been stuffed into the hole and then fallen down to floor level? Maybe she could reach down into the hole and pull out whatever had been stuffed there.

Tori hesitated. What if there was something nasty in the hole? What if there was a dead rat or mouse carcass? When Kathy had first bought the house, it had been infested. Anissa had had to remove the dead bodies when they’d found them in the knee-deep trash that had littered the floors.

“Oh, what the hell,” Tori said, trying to sound brave, and plunged her hand into the hole. She grouped around until her fingers came up with what felt like a piece of string. Gripping it tighter, she pulled, but whatever was tied to the string was pretty heavy.

“Kathy! Come quick!” Tori called as she yanked the string free from the hole, pulling out what turned out to be a small linen bag.

“What’s wrong?” Kathy said from the doorway.

“Come and see what I found.”

“You found the treasure?” Kathy asked excitedly, and bounded across the room.

Tori shrugged. “I don’t know what’s in this little bag, but it’s your house, so it’s your treasure.”

Anissa appeared in the doorway from the hall. “Did you find something?”

“Tori did,” Kathy said. “Paul, Noreen—come into the dining room!”

Kathy waited until everyone was assembled before she pulled the drawstring open and spilled the bag’s contents onto her waiting left hand. The gold coins glinted dully in the wan light.

“Holy crap!” Anissa said in a hushed voice.

“Are they what I think they are?” Noreen asked.

Paul plucked one of the gold coins from Kathy’s palm. “They sure are. Gold double eagles, and worth a mint.” He looked Kathy straight in the eye. “Santa was very good to you today, Kathy.”

“Is there anything else in the sack?” Anissa asked.

Kathy just stood there with her mouth open, so Tori took the bag from her and poked her fingers inside. Sure enough, she found yet another piece of paper. She unfolded it and read it aloud. “’To whoever finds this sack of gold, please take care of this home I love.’ It’s signed Hector Parker, August seven, nineteen thirty-three.”

“Take care of this home,” Anissa repeated. “Well, I’d say the right person found the treasure, but I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what Kathy will do with that gold.”

“I don’t believe it—I just don’t believe it.”

Paul counted the coins. “I’m no expert, but I’m betting that you’re holding about twenty grand in your hands, Kath.”

“Twenty THOUSAND dollars,” Kathy repeated, sounding shell shocked.

“Wow. I’ll bet that’s the best Christmas present you’ve ever received—better than the little play stove and fridge you got as a kid,” Tori said and laughed.

“I just can’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” Noreen said, smiling. “Maybe now you’d like a beer to celebrate, too.”

“I need something,” Kathy agreed, returned the coins to the little sack, then she turned to look at Tori.

“Let’s crack open one of those bottles of wine I got you for Christmas,” Tori suggested.

Kathy faced her friend with tears in her eyes. “How can I ever thank you, Tor. You kept looking when the rest of us gave up.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m happy because now you’ll be able to make the repairs and enhancements you wanted but thought you might not be able to do for years to come. The person you need to thank is Hector Parker. He’s the one responsible for this not-so-little windfall.”

Kathy nodded and they all trudged into the kitchen, where Noreen cracked the cap on a bottle of Merlot and poured four glasses. They raised their glasses and Paul raised his bottle in salute.

“To Hector Parker,” Kathy said.

“To Hector,” the others repeated.

Just then, the sound of the generator, which had been roaring for hours, cut out, but the lights stayed on. The power was back on!

“Whoa!” Anissa called out. “What do you make of that?”

“After all these years, I think Hector is still looking after his house!” Kathy said, and they all laughed.

Christmas dinner was a wild success. Despite the fact it was a chicken, and not turkey, there’d been more than enough potatoes, stuffing, vegetables, and dessert to fill all five of their bellies. They’d toasted over and over again with the wine Tori had provided, and then they’d all congregated in Swans Nest’s kitchen to wash dishes, and dole out leftovers.

The plow had finally arrived and cleared the main road, but Paul still drove Anissa back to her house on his snowmobile after she’d turned the water back on at all their properties.

No doubt about it, one way or another, it was a Christmas to remember.

Tori and Kathy had settled in the living room in Tori’s little bungalow with yet more Christmas music filling the background. Tori had poured them both another glass of wine and Kathy had two cats vying for her lap while Daisy had plunked herself down on Tori’s.

“Now that was a Christmas to remember,” Tori said.

“I’ll say,” Kathy agreed, but then she sobered. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for—”

But Tori held out a hand to stop her. “Kath, what was meant to be was meant to be. You were meant to have that house, and someone knew that. I don’t understand how or why it happened, but it was meant to be. Why don’t we just leave it at that?”

Kathy shook her head. “I could never have asked for a better friend than you. And … I hope we can talk frankly about real stuff.”

“Of course we can. We always have.”

Kathy nodded. “I know I told you I wanted to move into my house by the end of the year, but I’m no longer sure that’s the best thing I could do. The truth is, I think I would be terribly lonely. I know you’d be right across the street, but I’m not really sure now is the time to do that.”

Tori nodded. “You could be right. In fact, I’m pretty sure you are.”

“You wouldn’t mind if my boys and I hung out here in your house for a little while longer?”

“As long as you keep making me a pot of tea in the morning before I go to work and have supper waiting when I get home, you can stay for the rest of your life.”

Kathy laughed. “I don’t think either of us would want that—but for now, I’m good with this arrangement.”

“Then all is good,” Tori said. She raised her glass. “Merry Christmas, Kath.”

“Merry Christmas, Tor.”