Chapter 38
The second weekend of Christmas Prelude arrived with a bitter cold snap that had everyone bundled up in layers of clothing.
The thermometer outside the inn's kitchen read twelve degrees at noon, and with the wind chill, it felt like minus five.
Kate stood at the window, watching guests bundle up in every piece of clothing they'd brought, preparing for Santa's arrival by lobster boat at three o'clock.
“You're not seriously going to stand at the harbor for an hour in this weather,” Marcy said, pulling another batch of cookies from the oven. The kitchen had been running nonstop since Thursday, feeding the weekend warriors who'd come for round two of Prelude festivities.
“It's tradition,” Kate said. “Besides, our guests expect us to be there.”
“We’ll be so bundled up, I don’t think they’d even recognize us under all these clothes,” Dani muttered, but she was already wrapping herself in the vintage fur coat she'd found at an estate sale. “The hat parade yesterday nearly killed me. My feet are still numb.”
“That's because you wore fashion boots instead of winter boots,” Tom pointed out, sensibly dressed in his L.L.Bean finest.
“Someone has to maintain standards,” Dani shot back.
By two-thirty, the entire inn contingent was making their way to the harbor.
The second weekend always drew more locals than tourists, and Kate recognized most of the faces, people she'd known her whole life, bundled beyond recognition but identifiable by their voices, their laughs, their familiar complaints about the cold.
Kate had wrapped her scarf around her face multiple times, covering everything from her nose down. The wool was thick enough that breathing through it created a small pocket of warm air, though it made talking nearly impossible. She and Ben made their way to the harbor.
“I can't feel my toes,” Kate mumbled through the scarf.
“What?” Ben leaned closer, trying to hear her.
She pulled the scarf down just enough to free her mouth. “I said, I can't feel my toes.”
“Already? We've been here less than five minutes.”
“Five minutes too long.” She pulled the scarf back up, burying her face in the wool.
Around them, the crowd was growing despite the brutal temperature.
Children in snowsuits so puffy they could barely move were being held up to see over the railing.
The Murphy family had brought hot chocolate in thermoses, passing cups around to anyone nearby.
Mrs. Porter stood regally in what appeared to be an actual mink coat, seemingly immune to the cold through sheer force of will.
“Look!” someone shouted. “There's the boat!”
The lobster boat came into view, decorated with lights and garland that whipped in the wind. Santa stood in the bow, one hand on his hat to keep it from flying away, the other waving determinedly despite the spray that must have been coating him with ice.
“That's Charlie's father,” Ben said, recognizing the boat. “He's going to be a Santa-sicle by the time they dock.”
Kate tried to respond but her words were completely muffled by the scarf. She'd pulled it up even higher, now covering everything but her eyes.
“You look like a wool mummy.” Ben laughed.
She glared at him over the scarf, which only made him laugh harder.
The boat was doing its traditional harbor tour, stopping near each viewing area so everyone could get photos.
Parents held up their phones with hands that were probably too numb to feel the buttons.
The high school band, stationed on the dock, attempted to play “Jingle Bells,” though half the instruments had frozen and the sound carried away on the wind.
Kate pressed closer to the railing, and Ben moved behind her, blocking the worst of the wind. She leaned back against him, grateful for the windbreak and the warmth.
“We could always move to Florida,” he said close to her ear, his breath warm against her frozen skin.
Kate turned to look at him, saw he was smiling. She shook her head firmly, the scarf shifting with the movement. She pulled it down just enough to speak clearly.
“No way. I can't ice fish in Florida.”
Ben smiled. “That would be a deal breaker, wouldn't it?”
“Absolutely. Where would I go to think? To escape? Sitting on some beach with sand everywhere?” She shuddered theatrically. “I’ll need my own ice shack,my hole in the ice and the absolute quiet. Plus Florida has alligators and hurricanes and no proper seasons.”
“Maine has nor'easters and black ice and eight months of winter.”
“Maine has ice fishing season,” Kate said firmly. “And this.” She gestured to the scene around them, the boat with Santa, the cheering crowd, their inn guests taking photos, the whole town gathered in celebration despite the brutal cold. “I'm a northern girl, now and forever.”
“Now and forever?”
“The cold builds character. And makes good ice.”
Ben reached over and gently lowered her scarf just below her mouth. “You're right. Florida doesn't have ice fishing.” His fingers were warm against her frozen cheeks. “Or this.”
And he kissed her, there at the harbor railing with Santa ho-ho-hoing in the background and the crowd cheering and the cold forgotten for just a moment.
Kate heard Dani whoop nearby, probably taking photos, but she didn't care.
After months of uncertainty about their relationship, it felt good to be public, to claim this happiness in front of the whole town.
“People are watching,” Kate said when they broke apart, but she was smiling.
“Let them. I've been waiting years to kiss you at the harbor during Prelude.”
“That's oddly specific.”
“I'm a specific kind of guy.”
Santa's boat finally reached the main dock, and the crowd surged forward to watch him disembark. Charlie's father, despite being half-frozen, played his part perfectly, stopping to greet every child, his “ho ho ho” only slightly shaky from the cold.
“Back to the inn?” Tom suggested, his lawyer composure cracking as he shivered. “I can't feel my face.”
“Smart man,” Dani said through chattering teeth.
They walked back as a group, the siblings and Ben, moving quickly to generate warmth. The inn looked impossibly welcoming with its windows glowing golden in the early dusk, smoke rising from the chimneys Ben had made sure were safe to use.
Inside, the warmth hit them like a physical thing.
Guests were everywhere, sharing stories of Santa's arrival, comparing photos, thawing out by the fires Ben had laid in both parlor fireplaces.
The Christmas tree lights were on, the hot cider and hot chocolate was flowing, and the whole scene was exactly what Dani had marketed: “authentic Maine Christmas magic.”
“Family meeting,” Kate said quietly to her siblings. “Kitchen. Twenty minutes.”
They scattered to help guests, refill cider, stoke fires, but twenty minutes later they gathered around the kitchen table. Ben started to leave, but Kate caught his hand.
“Stay. This involves you too.”
Dani looked curious. Tom seemed worried. James was already reaching for his phone, probably expecting a crisis that needed technical solutions.
“I have something to tell you all,” Kate said, and saw the familiar flash of fear, another crisis, another problem, another thing to survive.
“It's good news,” she added quickly. “I got accepted to UNE’s Marine biology graduate program. Starting in January.”
The room erupted. Dani screamed and hugged her. Tom looked proud but concerned, already thinking about logistics. James said, “We know, your laptop was open,” which made everyone laugh.
“But I'm not leaving,” Kate continued. “Not really. I'll be in Biddeford Monday through Thursday, here Friday through Sunday. I'm going to do both, school and the inn. Mom's money will pay for some of it, and you've all proven you can handle this place. I don't have to choose. I can have both.”
“Both is good,” Tom said, his relief evident. “Both we can manage.”
“I'll restructure the website so you can do more remotely,” James offered immediately.
“And I'll handle all events,” Dani added. “I've got this down to a science now. Besides, if I can handle working the restaurant with Ryan, I’m sure you can deal with the inn and school.”
Kate looked at Ben, who hadn't spoken yet. He crossed to her, kissed her temple.
“It's going to be hard,” Kate warned them all. “I'll be stressed and absent and probably impossible during exams.”
“So, normal then?” James teased.
“We've handled worse,” Dani said firmly. “We handled Pop's decline, Lillian's death, the inn's near collapse. We can handle you getting a degree.”
“Besides,” Tom added, “Dr. Perkins has a nice ring to it.”
“That's years away. First just the master's degree.”
“Whatever.” Dani waved dismissively. “You're going to be brilliant. Our sister, the marine biologist.”
Outside, they could hear carolers starting their rounds, voices carrying from Dock Square.
The inn was full of warmth and light and paying guests.
The business that had nearly failed in March was now booked solid through February.
The siblings who had scattered had not just returned but had found their places, their purposes, their partners.
“We should get back to the guests,” Kate said, but nobody moved.
“In a minute,” Tom said. “This is a big moment. We should mark it.”
“With what? Champagne?” Dani asked.
“Hot chocolate,” James suggested. “With peppermint schnapps.”
“Perfect,” Kate agreed.
They made the drinks, Tom adding generous amounts of schnapps, and stood in a circle in their mother's kitchen.
“To Kate,” Tom said, raising his mug. “Who saved us all and now gets to save herself too.”
“To being a northern girl,” Kate said, “now and forever. With all the ice fishing and frozen harbor Santa sightings and graduate degrees that entails.”
They drank, the peppermint chocolate warming them from the inside, and Kate felt the rightness of her decision settle into her bones. Not choosing between paths but creating her own path that included everything she wanted.
“Now we really should check on guests,” Dani said. “I promised Mrs. Mitchell I’d walk her up to the widow’s walk.”
“And I need to check that hot water heater,” Ben added. “It's making that noise again.”
They scattered to their various duties, but Kate lingered in the kitchen for a moment.
Through the window, she could see snow beginning to fall, the first real accumulation of the season.
Tomorrow would bring the final Prelude events: the cookie walk, the artisan fair, the final concerts at Dock Square.
Then Monday, she'd start preparing in earnest for school, ordering textbooks, figuring out her schedule, learning how to be a student again at thirty-five.
But tonight, with her family busy and happy around her, with Ben's kiss still warm on her lips, with her future finally beginning to take shape, Kate Perkins felt nothing but joy.
Pure, northern girl, ice-fishing, harbor-kissing, masters and doctorate-pursuing, inn-keeping joy.
Whatever she needed to do to make it all work, she was ready, one frozen Santa sighting at a time.