Chapter Seventeen
Max went back to his parents’ house, and Caroline took Daphne up to her room. A tray of chocolate truffles sat on the coffee table, next to a silver coffeepot. There was a scented Christmas candle and a packet of mistletoe.
Outside the window, the mountain was alive with night skiers. Colored strobe lights danced on the slopes, and the gondola was strung with twinkling silver lights. It was one of the prettiest sights Caroline had ever seen.
A bottle of brandy sat on the sideboard, with two glasses.
“You were going to invite Max to your room! Isn’t that against your rules?” Daphne exclaimed, eyeing the two brandy glasses.
“I had to, I accepted your dare,” Caroline reminded her.
Daphne sank on the sofa. “I’m sorry for ruining your evening, I didn’t know what else to do.”
Caroline poured a glass of brandy. She handed it to Daphne.
“Your teeth are chattering. Drink this, then tell me what happened.”
Daphne had shown Luke the article about his parents in The New York Times. When Luke was eight, his parents went to Paris for the summer. A friend was opening a restaurant and Luke’s father was going to be an investor. Then the chef quit, and Allan decided to become the chef himself. The restaurant was so successful, he and Luke’s mother stayed in France. Luke was raised by his grandmother in Wisconsin, and he visited his parents every summer.
“His parents are well known in the food world, and Luke wanted to make it on his own. He took his mother’s last name and opened the restaurant in Hudson,” Daphne said. “He didn’t tell me when we met, then we got serious so quickly. He was going to tell me before the wedding, but I suggested eloping.”
“He was going to tell you eventually,” Caroline said slowly.
“He left out a huge part of his childhood!” Daphne protested. “In a relationship, you can’t decide when to reveal the truth, you should always be honest. What if he’s keeping other things from me?”
Caroline thought about her own rules. She hardly ever told her dates anything about herself, and she didn’t ask questions about them. Why was it different with Max? He was easy to talk to, and he seemed genuinely interested in her.
But it didn’t mean anything. They were two people who met at a ski resort during Christmas week. Caroline would go back to her real life in New York, and never see Max again.
“I wish Mom was here,” Daphne sighed. “We’d go into the kitchen and take out the Christmas leftovers. Then we’d cook something together. I think more clearly when I’m chopping vegetables or mixing cake batter.”
Caroline had an idea. She sent a few texts on her phone. Then she grabbed Daphne’s jacket and handed it to her.
“What are we doing?” Daphne asked.
Caroline put on her own jacket and opened the door.
“You’ll see, follow me.”
The first stop was the small supermarket called Aspen Groceries. Caroline filled a cart with butter and olive oil and double cream. There were cooked turkey and ham slices from the deli, and pie crust from the bakery. She added an assortment of vegetables, and spices.
Then the Uber drove them to Max’s distillery. She found the key where Max had left it.
“Where are we?” Daphne glanced around the large space.
“Mad Finn Distillery.” Caroline walked toward the back. “I texted Max and asked if we could use the kitchen. He left the key, he even turned on the oven.”
Caroline took the groceries into the kitchen. An oak island took up the center of the room, and tall windows overlooked snow-covered fields. There was a six-burner stove, and two dishwashers.
“Max owns all this?” Daphne gasped. She took in the oversize pantry, the glass cabinets filled with plates.
“When the distillery opens, it’s going to have a full-service restaurant.” Caroline unloaded the shopping bag. “You’re going to make Mom’s turkey and ham Christmas pie. And we’re going to figure out what to do about Luke.”
For the next hour, Daphne didn’t say anything. Caroline watched her heating the butter in the saucepan, splashing in vinegar, adding cream so that it simmered but didn’t boil over. She longed for it to be last Christmas, with Daphne and Anne making the pie together, and Caroline reading in the living room. Eventually the wonderful smells—golden pastry crust, fragrant thyme—would reach her and she’d come and join them.
“This was a great idea,” Daphne said when the pie was baking in the oven. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and sat on a stool.
“I told Max we’d save him a piece of pie.” Caroline sat beside her. “He was happy to do it.”
Daphne took a leftover slice of ham and popped it in her mouth.
“When I was a kid, I thought our parents had the best marriage. They didn’t argue like other parents, and they were nice to each other,” Daphne said. “Now, I’m not so sure.”
“What do you mean?” Caroline asked.
“Luke and I aren’t married yet, and I already feel so close to him. When we’re fighting, I can’t concentrate on anything else. Maybe that’s part of love, and Mom and Dad never experienced it.”
“Of course they loved each other,” Caroline argued. “They were married for twenty years.”
“Mom was busy with us and her career, and Dad was so easygoing. He just needed his weekend fishing trips to be happy. Maybe they liked each other a lot, but they weren’t really in love.”
“Even if that was true, what does that have to do with anything?”
Daphne drummed her fingers on the counter.
“Even if Mom was alive, she wouldn’t be able to give me advice if she’d never been in love herself. I have to figure this out on my own.”
The pie, when it came out of the oven, was delicious. The pastry melted in Caroline’s mouth, the meat and vegetables were tender and buttery. They ate it with a bottle of wine that she found in the pantry. She wrapped the leftover pie in plastic wrap and left a note thanking Max for letting them use the kitchen.
An Uber drove them back to Aspen. The closer they came to the inn, the quieter Daphne became.
“I’m going for a walk,” Daphne said when the driver pulled into the driveway.
“I can come with you,” Caroline suggested.
Daphne shook her head. She pulled on her hood. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
Caroline was about to walk up to her room, but the concierge stopped her.
“Miss Holt, you had a delivery.”
“A delivery?” Caroline repeated.
“No one was there, so the delivery boy gave me the card.”
Caroline read the card. She pulled out her phone and dialed Daphne’s number.
“What’s wrong?” Daphne answered.
“You have to come back, there’s something you need to see.”
Caroline waited for Daphne in the lobby. They went up to Caroline’s room together. Caroline let Daphne walk in first.
Almost every surface held a bouquet of roses. Red roses sat on the coffee table, yellow roses adorned the side tables. A bouquet of white roses stood on the bathroom counter, and another on the bedside table.
“Are these from Max?” Daphne asked.
Caroline handed Daphne the card. “No, they’re from Luke.”
Daphne read the card. When she looked up at Caroline, her cheeks were wet with tears.
She gave Caroline a hug and turned to the door.
“I have to go see Luke. For the record, being in love sucks.” Her eyes danced and her smile was white as snow. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
After Daphne left, Caroline hung up her jacket and sat on the sofa. She was happy for Daphne. The concierge would move the roses to Daphne and Luke’s room. Without Luke, Daphne had been like a fishing boat searching for the shore.
It was still early but she didn’t want to call Max.
She picked up Nina’s next letter and started reading.
Dear Anne,
I’ve been so naughty! Instead of working on the manuscript, I’ve been reading old love letters. It started innocently enough, I was going through a box of my press clippings. That’s one of the funny things about being a writer. One can’t help reading one’s reviews. Not that mine were all bad. The New York Times and The Washington Post loved my work. But the reviewer in The Boston Globe said that my second novel didn’t live up to my potential, and the Los Angeles Times wrote that I had traded my “bra-burning prose for a novel that would purely make money.”
As if their reviews could change anything about the story. The story is the important thing. Why else do authors write in the first place?
At my age, it seems silly to reread love letters. But it’s one of the surprises about growing older. One never gives up the dream of a great love. Love is still the best thing on earth. And sometimes the most painful.
I don’t have to tell you, you’re a beautiful woman in the prime of life. I was like you once, attractive and confident. I could have whatever I wanted. Only, I didn’t always know what I wanted. Especially when it came to Teddy. Teddy was like the cotton candy you buy at the state fair. Light and sweet and irresistible. Until you finish it, and you’re left with sticky fingers and a toothache.
I expected Teddy to be irritable the day after we put up the Christmas trees, but he was the reverse. That was the thing about Teddy, when something was bothering him, he became sweet as molasses.
I woke up to Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas” playing on the phonograph. The smell of frying bacon came from the kitchen.
I wrapped my gold silk robe around me more tightly.
“You look wonderful in that robe. It brings out your eyes,” Teddy greeted me.
“My eyes are brown,” I said icily.
“Your eyes are the color of roasted almonds,” Teddy corrected. He patted a dining chair. “Sit down, I made your favorite breakfast: eggs Benedict with bacon. And I went to the farm next door, and got a jug of whole cream. It’s fresh, the farmer milked the cow this morning.”
“We shouldn’t eat without James,” I said.
“He’s still asleep, I made plenty,” Teddy answered.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked when we sat down. Teddy made the best eggs Benedict. He wouldn’t tell me his secret, but I think it had something to do with the amount of butter in the sauce.
“I’ve been acting like a jealous schoolboy. There’s obviously nothing going on between you and James.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I thought James had eyes for you, but I was wrong.”
Teddy had gone to the public library and pulled up some articles about James. He had a beautiful girlfriend named Rhonda. Rhonda came from an old Philadelphia family and graduated from Yale.
I don’t know why it bothered me. I wasn’t interested in James romantically, and I had never longed for a fancy education. I was happy with my life and my career.
“You’re saying Rhonda is better than me because she has a social pedigree and a diploma from an Ivy League school?” I demanded.
“Of course she’s not better than you,” Teddy soothed me. “All I’m saying is I overreacted. Let’s change the subject. I wrote down a list of things for the three of us to do together. We’re going to give James a picture-perfect Vermont Christmas.”
When James woke up, Teddy served him the same breakfast. Afterward we piled into Teddy’s car. James offered to drive but Teddy insisted. James was our guest, he couldn’t be expected to be our driver too.
We started by sampling Jersey cheeses at Billings Farm in Woodstock. They really were delicious. Apparently, Jersey cows produced milk with the greatest amount of butterfat.
After that, we visited an apple orchard, where we collected apples and ate freshly made hot apple cider doughnuts. We finished the tour by watching a Christmas parade in Woodstock. The mayor arrived on a Clydesdale horse and Santa and Mrs. Claus followed in a red sleigh.
Then we went back to the farm to dress for dinner. Teddy had invited a surprise guest. He wouldn’t tell me who it was.
Teddy had prepared tenderloin beef in a red wine sauce, with sausage and sage stuffing. For dessert there would be a choice of mincemeat pie, and cinnamon crumble served with vanilla ice cream. I knew when I entered the kitchen that Teddy hadn’t cooked any of it himself. Teddy’s fridge never contained more than Chinese takeout and bottles of seltzer water. I found out later that he ordered the whole meal from the Woodstock Inn. It must have cost a fortune.
The meal made me suspicious. I couldn’t figure out why Teddy was being so nice.
Teddy’s guest was Father Joseph, the local pastor. I was shocked when Teddy introduced him. Teddy wasn’t keen on religion.
“I met Father Joseph when I was looking for Christmas ornaments,” Teddy said. “He heard me mention your name to the clerk and came up to say hello.”
“My wife is your biggest fan,” Father Joseph gushed.
“My biggest fan?” I repeated, questioningly.
“Of your column,” he prompted. “Every other sentence in our house includes ‘Laura Carter would paint the bedroom yellow’ or ‘Laura Carter buys her apples at the Happy Valley Orchard.’ She doesn’t do anything without checking to see if it’s in your column first.”
I’d almost forgotten I was Laura Carter. Thank God Father Joseph mentioned it before I introduced myself as Nina.
“I’ll make sure to sign some columns before you leave.” I shook his hand.
Teddy led Father Joseph into the living room. James stood at the bar, fixing predinner cocktails.
Teddy introduced them and we sat down on the sofa.
“Father Joseph is famous around here. He’s performed almost all the weddings and funerals in town for the last forty years,” Teddy said.
“It’s been an honor.” Father Joseph nodded. “The wedding day is often the happiest time in a man and woman’s lives.”
“Laura and I can’t wait to tie the knot,” Teddy said. “James is the only single man here. Unless he’s hiding something.”
James was wearing cashmere slacks, and brown Italian loafers. I could tell Teddy wasn’t happy about that. Teddy prided himself on his fashion taste, but his clothing budget rarely included cashmere and Italian shoes.
“You’re a successful doctor in your thirties,” Teddy continued innocently. “There must be a pretty girl just waiting for you to propose.”
“I’m afraid not.” James shook his head.
“Not some Yale graduate whose family dates back to the 1800s?” Teddy questioned.
James blushed. “I have dated a girl on and off. Rhonda is in Geneva at the moment, her father is the U.S. ambassador. I haven’t seen her in months.”
Teddy looked at me triumphantly. I didn’t know why. There was nothing going on between me and James.
“I urge you to put a ring on her finger when she returns.” Teddy finished his Bloody Mary. He glanced at me mischievously. “Being engaged has changed my relationship with Laura in ways I never imagined.”
During dessert, Father Joseph talked about the money being raised to build a new baptismal font at the church.
“I’ll write you a check,” Teddy said enthusiastically. He reached over and squeezed my hand. “Laura and I want lots of babies, I’m sure we’ll take advantage of your services.”
“You’ll have to start soon if you want me to perform them.” Father Joseph gave us a meaningful look. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”
I excused myself and went to get more ice cream. I wasn’t hungry but I refused to listen to Teddy talk about babies.
When I returned, everyone had moved into the living room. James offered to do the dishes, but Teddy said he’d take care of them later.
“You’re right about not waiting to have babies.” Teddy filled four glasses with sherry. “In fact, you’ve given me a marvelous idea. Laura and I were going to get married in the spring, but why shouldn’t we get married now!”
I almost dropped my sherry.
“We’ll get married right here in front of the fireplace on New Year’s Eve. Father Joseph can perform the ceremony. James will be the witness and the best man. Laura knows everyone in town, she’ll have her choice of matrons of honor. I’m sure someone in town can pull some strings and get a marriage license in time.” He turned to me.
Teddy looked so innocent, like a child telling Santa Claus what he wanted for Christmas.
“We can’t impose on Father Joseph during Christmas week,” I said hastily.
“On the contrary, it would be my pleasure.” Father Joseph beamed.
James set down his sherry glass. His brow furrowed.
“Is that really a good idea?” he asked. “You both must have family who want to be at the wedding.”
“Let’s face it, Laura and I are getting old to be newlyweds. Our families are anxious for us to finally tie the knot,” Teddy sighed. “Perhaps we’ll have a second wedding in New York.”
“Then it’s settled.” Father Joseph stood up.
Father Joseph left and Teddy took the dishes into the kitchen. I waited until James had gone to his room, then I joined Teddy.
I turned the faucet on to hot and loaded dishes into the sink. I was so angry, I didn’t notice it almost burning my skin.
“I wouldn’t marry you on New Year’s Eve if it stopped a flock of ravens from descending on us,” I seethed.
“You’re going to have to if you want Laura Carter to maintain her readership,” Teddy announced. “And Father Joseph’s wife is your biggest fan, you wouldn’t want to let her down.”
There was nothing more to say. I set the last dish in the sink and stormed out.
It was only when I entered the living room that I remembered Teddy was going to sleep in the bedroom. And I’d freeze to death in the barn.
I lay down on the sofa and closed my eyes. My last thought before I fell asleep was that Teddy should take up chess. He had me in check and there was nothing I could do about it. Checkmate.
Anne, I’ll stop there. If I keep writing, I’ll get angry with Teddy all over again, and my heartburn will start acting up. I suppose that’s why it’s rare for older people to fall in love. Our bodies can’t handle the pain.
It is Christmas so I’ll end on a happy note. Which is that I found you, and just knowing you makes me happy.
Warm regards,
Nina
Caroline imagined Nina celebrating Christmas alone in New York in her seventies. Perhaps Daphne was right. If Caroline didn’t let love into her life now, she never would. When she was seventy, she’d be alone too.
She replaced the letter and turned off the lights.