A
fter collecting Nick’s car, we drove back to the lodge, because he insisted that taking two cars was pointless and I should just ride with him.
I wasn’t complaining.
Now, we’re walking down the snow-dusted pathways, my gloved hands in my jacket pockets, and my beanie keeping my ears warm as we make our way through the market.
He hasn’t said a word to me since we left the lodge. And the fact he keeps checking his phone is grating on me. I know this isn’t a date, but he could at least be here
with me. The way he’s blatantly ignoring me has me feeling a little uncomfortable. If he didn’t want to bring me, he should’ve stayed back at the lodge.
As we approach a hot chocolate stand, the silence gets too much for me. “You can go back if you want, it’s really fine.”
Nick stops and narrows his eyes. “What?” He laughs. “What’s brought that on? I said I was happy to take you.”
I level him with a really?
look. “No, you said you would bring me, but you weren’t exactly thrilled about it.”
He closes his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. “Shit. You’re right. I’m being a crappy tour guide.”
I wince. “Yeah, you kind of are. Remember, I’m only here because of your
daughter. So maybe stop acting like you’d rather be anywhere else but with me.”
I go to walk away, but he stops me, grabbing a hold of my wrist. “I’m truly sorry, Holly. I didn’t mean to be such a thoughtless jerk.” His regretful eyes gaze into mine, and my resolve softens. “Let me make it up to you?”
I eye him suspiciously. “How?”
Helpless, his eyes dart back and forth around us, looking for ways to back up his promise. “You can’t come to a Christmas market without getting a cup of hot chocolate. Maybe after that we can go grab a bite to eat?”
I have a better idea in mind. “How about we skip the food and go back to the lodge and help your grandma decorate?” I compromise.
Gladys is a lovely woman, but she’s in her late seventies. She can’t run an entire lodge all by herself. She’ll end up keeling over. “She needs help, Nick. She might bullshit her way through it, but she’s struggling. I don’t think she’ll let me help her because she’s so stubborn, but you’re her grandson. She won’t say no to you.”
Nodding, he holds his hand out to me. “Deal. We’ll grab some cocoa and head back.”
Still dubious, I take it and he leads me over to a sweet-smelling booth. Taking out his wallet, Nick asks, “can I have two hot chocolates, please?”
“Sure thing, honey.” The older lady behind the register taps in Nick’s order. “Any whipped cream or marshmallows?”
He looks to me. “The works?”
I nod, because who can say no to whipped cream and marshmallow? “Yes, please.”
“Whatever you’ve got, shove it on,” he tells her and I chuckle. “I’m in the doghouse, so I’m plying her with sweet things until she forgives me.”
The elderly lady croons at Nick, and then swats her husband’s arm. “Why don’t you treat me like that anymore?”
“Sweetheart, we’ve been married fifty years, you should know you’re the only sweet thing I need.”
He passes her the disposable cup, and she squirts cream around the top and takes a snowflake shaped marshmallow and sits it on the cream. “Here you go, honey. Enjoy.”
Taking the drink, I thank her and wait for Nick to collect his. “Thank you for this,” I say as I dip my tongue into the cream.
He hasn’t responded and I find myself turning around to see why he’s stopped. His darkened gaze is trained on my tongue, and my heart skips a beat at the way his jaw clenches.
“Nick?”
Blinking, he snaps out of it. “Uh... sorry.” He shakes his head. “Spaced there for a minute. What were you saying?”
“I was just thanking you for the drink.”
He gulps hard. “No worries.”
We make our way past a group of carollers sings Christmas songs, and head toward a vendor that allows you to make your own Mistletoe kissing balls. It gives me an idea that maybe we could come back another day and do a few of those for Gabby's party.
Entering the parking lot, Nick unlocks his car and we climb in. “Do you really think my grandmother is struggling?”
Sipping my drink, I put on my seat belt. “She’s getting older, Nick. She can’t do the things she used to do. Especially not on her own. It’s too much.”
Gladys was telling me this morning, before Nick came down to join us, that she’d lost her husband ten years before, on Christmas Eve night. This time of year is never a joyful time for her. Sure, she loves Nick and Gabby more than life, but her husband was a part of her. She’ll never love like that again.
She does everything by herself. Cooks. Cleans. Greets guests. Heck, she’d be out plowing snow if she could.
You name it, Gladys does it.
Just before breakfast, I saw her coming down the stairs with handfuls of dirty bedding from rooms that had already checked out. She’d been up since five getting them ready for the next reservation.
I saw her struggling, and I offered my help, not once but twice and she refused me. However, if it comes from her family,
she might be a little more swayed.
Starting the car, he sets his drink in the cup holder and puts it in reverse. “I guess I just never really noticed her aging.”
Not thinking twice, I pat his leg. Judging by the way he stiffens, I realize it’s probably not something I should do to my best friend’s father. “Well, hopefully us being here will give her the break she needs.”
Nick steers us out of the lot and down the backroad toward the lodge. “Maybe I should hire her some help.”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
Or maybe I could stay for a while and help.
“Let’s just see how she does, okay?”
He nods but remains quiet, and I know he’s in deep thought. He’s figuring out ways to help his grandma, to lessen her workload. And it’s at that moment I realize I’m doomed.