16. Mia
Chapter sixteen
Mia
The Sternenschein Alpenlodge is so different to the Montagne étoilée in France that I have to double check I’m in the right place. This resort is luxurious . There’s lots of marble and white, with plush rugs, and sparkly chandeliers. The lobby has no signs of the inviting sofas and armchairs at Montagne étoilée that were perfect places to curl up with a glass of wine and a book. Instead, it boasts upright armchairs and beautiful, but prim looking couches.
I arrive wearing my ‘good’ jeans, low heeled boots, a nice sweater, and makeup, but I feel underdressed. As I’m waiting in line to check in, a woman walks past wearing a fur wrap and heels, and my jeans couldn’t have looked further out of place among the dresses and pressed chinos.
I’m greeted by a man wearing a dark brown woolen suit and impeccably pressed white shirt, who checks me in, and arranges for another identically dressed man to accompany me to my room. He knows who I am as soon as I introduce myself, just like Damien did at Montagne étoilée. The man offers his condolences, and I’m not sure how to react, so I thank him, and offer mine. I wonder whether other people who work at the hotel will know who I am too.
“Before dinner tonight, everyone who is here to pay their respects to Craig will meet just through here—” He points with his whole hand toward an entrance between the main doors and the reception desk. “—at six pm. Dinner is at seven in the formal dining room.” He gestures in the same way to the other side of the reception desk.
“Can you tell me what that will involve?” I ask.
He gives me a curt nod. “Attendees will talk about Craig’s life, share some memories of their time together. It will be nothing formal.” Somehow, in this environment, I doubt that.
He must have noticed my hesitation. “I suspect, Mia, you’ll learn a lot about Craig. Tomorrow, guests will be free to mingle and spend time privately reflecting, then there is an intimate afternoon event.” He goes on to describe what sounds alarmingly like speed dating; attendees will share their memories, then move on to another table to hear more. He assures me this is ‘designed to be a time where attendees can make wonderful friends for life’.
It sounds like an absolute nightmare.
The whole weekend will end with a dinner to toast Craig. My stomach churns at the thought of all the socializing. It doesn’t sound like this event is something I’m supposed to be at. I can’t believe I let Will convince me I should be here. I wish he was here with me, although I’m not sure I can trust myself around him.
I have time for a walk before the first event. The man on the front desk organizes one of their guides to take me out.
A tall, enthusiastic man, probably in his mid to late twenties appears, wearing a massive red, warm-looking jacket, and carrying another identical red jacket meets me at the front desk.
“Hi Mia! I’m Noah, I’m one of our outdoor guides.” Noah is thin-limbed; not gangly, but the kind of wiry build strong fit people like rock climbers have.
“I’d love to take you out—” he pauses, clearly for comic effect. I don’t miss the cheeky twinkle in his grin, “—for a walk.” He finishes with a dramatic wink.
He nods towards the man on the front desk. “Marvio said we’ve got about an hour, maybe a bit more, and there’s a great view down a valley not too far from here”
“Nice to meet you, Noah.”
Noah’s whole body moves with enthusiasm. He holds out the jacket he’s carrying for me to shrug on, then helps me zip it. “Glad the jacket fits. It’ll be chilly outside when we get to some of the more exposed areas.”
He leads the way through the bar area, two sets of doors, into an unheated corridor with a room of shoes off the end. Once we’re both rugged up, I follow Noah out the door.
As we walk, Noah talks. He’s chatty, but it feels natural.
“I’m a tour guide here. These tours were Craig’s idea. We do ski tours, walking tours and off-roading, too.” Noah looks at his feet for a few moments before perking up. “Craig’s always liked the idea of a proper all-inclusive resort, kind of like a cruise ship.”
“I can see how that would work. How did they start?” I’ve given myself permission to use this weekend to find out about my birth family. Meeting Craig in person hadn’t done it. Maybe this would.
“He got the idea one day because this family came, and mum and dad went out skiing all day, and the kids hung out with their grandparents. They still wanted to be able to get outside, but at the time, there wasn’t a whole lot they could do.” Noah pauses, holding back a branch for me to walk past. “He spent a bunch of time with them while they were here and designed the Guides Programme.”
“And it’s been successful?” I ask.
“Sure has. We have four full-time guides here, and maybe another eighteen or so people who work part-time, or just during the high season.”
“Does the Guides Programme make a profit?” As soon as I ask the question, I wonder whether Noah will even know. He’s a tour guide, hardly likely to be privy to the inner workings of the resort.
He glances at me over his shoulder, as if considering whether he should answer my question, then focuses his attention back to his feet crunching in the snow. “I don’t know the details, but we’re always pretty busy, especially in winter. When we survey people about why they chose Sternenschein Alpenlodge, something like twenty-five percent of people talk about the Guides. I’m glad Shelly and Simon encouraged it. They did a lot of good in the time they were running the resorts.” His smile is wistful.
“That’s pretty impressive. Wonder why other resorts don’t do something similar?” I stumble over a particularly pointy rock hidden under snow.
Noah spins around and grasps my forearm through my thick jacket. “Shit, you okay?” I regain my balance and decide perhaps I’m better listening while I walk, rather than talking while I walk. Once he’s satisfied I’m okay, he answers, “All Starlight resorts have something similar, but I don’t know why other ski resorts don’t do it.”
“So Craig encouraged the Guides Programme?” I prompt, hoping Noah will tell me more.
“He always wants people to come to the resort and feel like they got a great deal, and somehow like they got much more than they paid for. I dunno all the details, but I know he had to cut the budget in other places to make it happen.” He shrugs, holding each end of his unwrapped scarf on either side of his neck.
“Must pay off, it’s been working for a long time. If it hadn’t balanced out, Simon would have stopped it a long time ago.”
Before I know it, we arrive at rough-cut stairs. I hear running water, and although I can’t see the river yet, the cool crisp scent of running water is in the air. Hauling myself up the stairs is rough. The wooden stairs are slick with ice, and the handrail is too large to comfortably grasp if I do slip. Noah walks sideways up the stairs, staying two steps above me the whole time ready to grab me if I slip. His arms are already outstretched. I don’t think he trusts my ability to walk. Thankfully, getting to the small wooden platform at the top is well worth the trek. As I summit the last few stairs, I look down over the highest point of the river, which is slowly pooling at the crest of the waterfall, before the crystal-clear water flows over the edge in a beautiful bubbling cascade. From the top, there is no clear path down to follow the river, and I wonder where it ends up.
“Wow,” I breathe. My breath comes out in short puffs as I recover from the climb. “It’s incredible.”
Large chunks of ice cling to the bank on either side of the river. Fallen tree branches protrude from the top of the ice and twist under the water. Stalactites of long thin icicles glisten in the afternoon sun, hanging from the nearby trees where they are close enough to be splashed.
Noah nods. “It’s stunning. I always think it looks like any minute some deer are going to come out of the undergrowth to drink from the river.” I tuck my chin into my borrowed scarf and smile over at him. “I come here all the time, and the view never gets old.”
Twice, while we’re standing in silence, the end of one of the icicles snaps, falling into the churning waters below and getting lost in the deep teal pool of turbulent water. Despite the freeze, the edge of the river is alive with plant life; tussock grass peeks out of the snow, and two large trees overhang the pool at the bottom of the waterfall.
We stand in silence for a few moments, watching the river.
“Your parents wanted to make this a wedding venue. Craig’s dream was to just add a small cafe or coffee cart where people could come and just sit in nature.” He sighs, his breath coming out in a plume.
I can picture it. Stools surrounding a fire pit, happy families clasping steaming coffees, hot chocolates for the kids.
“I don’t think that’s likely to happen now, not with Bryce cutting every corner he can.”
I want to ask him to explain himself, but there’s something so poignant about the moment that I don’t want to rush him. Right now, for the first time, I can almost see the dream my birth family had; see the thing they made. I make a mental note to try to find out more later.
We take a different path on the way back. The snow is much deeper here so the walk is much more difficult, but Noah promises the trek will be worth it. My borrowed boots crunch through crispy snow, each step is cracking like broken glass.
Noah points out cute signs saying things like ‘three minutes until the best view of your life’ and ‘look at you go!’. “Your mum made those,” Noah tells me, nodding toward a sign. “She carved a whole bunch of them, hammered them in herself. Your dad would come out here every day, whenever he was at the resort, make sure they were readable.”
My chest clenches. They feel so real to me when he’s telling me stories like this. How much have I missed out on?
Noah walks me to a dip in the trail which leads down to the riverbank. The river is flowing, but the water is completely calm and perfectly clear. The rocks are frozen under the water, and the water flowing over them is completely unbroken, with no bubbles in the water.
“This is my favorite part of the river this time of year.” Noah gestures toward the calm water. “The water flows like this because of the lower water level. On days where it’s been below freezing for a few days at a time, it looks like this. It’s always in a different position in the river, and each year, it appears for a few weeks. But it’s here every year, and I always look for it.”
“How long have you worked here, Noah?” I pull my eyes away from a sign that says ‘wow, great walking!’ to look at Noah. He is still engrossed in the stream.
“I started when I was back in high school. I washed dishes on weekends, that sort of thing,” he says, finally looking at me. “I went to university—it wasn’t for me, just between us—then did outdoors training. When I headed back home about seven years ago, I applied for a ski-instructor role and here I am.” Noah adjusts the hood on his red jacket.
“And things have been a bit different since Bryce took over?” I have to tread carefully. Bryce is his boss, after all, but I need to get to the bottom of what the concerns are. As much as I want to stay out of it, I can’t help my focus from straying back to that sign; to the love and care that’s gone into this place.
“Can I be frank?” He doesn’t wait for me to respond before continuing. “Bryce doesn’t give a shit about the resorts. Not for the same reasons as your parents, or Craig. Maybe it’s because it came from their family, not his, but he’s happy if it just makes money. But for a lot of people, this place is a lot more than that.”
He leans casually against a nearby, snow-covered tree as he talks, looking so comfortable out here.
“I’d be gutted to see everything your parents and Craig worked for go up in smoke because of that guy.”
Having Noah’s first-hand account to confirm my worries about Bryce is helpful. If I can get some more information, maybe I can work out the full story of what’s going on. I’m starting to see how the resorts were a real labor of love for my birth family though. I just wonder how I fit.
The room Marvio pointed out earlier is nearly full. Noah ushers me into the seat beside him, whispering, “I know Craig would want you up here.” I smile, but I feel like an imposter. I haven’t even had a conversation with Craig, but here I am, seated in the front row.
Bang on eleven thirty, a tall woman wearing a black skirt suit stands at the podium and welcomes everyone.
“Good afternoon. Thank you for being here today.” She glances down at her notes, clearing her throat.
“I’m Ingrid, and I’ve been managing Sternenschein Alpenlodge for four years, but working here for much, much longer than that. I won’t give away my age, but I recognize many of you from my early twenties.” Polite laughter rips through the crowd. Ingrid looks to be in her late forties or early fifties.
“I met Craig during my first week at the resort. He was in his late teens, and many of you played a large part in his upbringing. You helped create the man he grew to be.” Ingrid’s voice cracks.
“As you know, when Shelly died, we came together as a family. We gathered around Simon and Craig, and we were their support. And when Simon left us, not that long ago, we gathered our strength around Craig. Now, we gather our strength again and remember Craig.” Ingrid dabs her eyes. Most people in the audience are openly crying now. Sniffs and sobs ripple through the room.
“Today, I hope we can all share some memories about Craig, so he can live on through us.” She takes another sip of water.
She turns to me. “I’d also like to acknowledge Mia Davis, Craig’s sister. We know Craig has been looking for you for a long time now, Mia, and I’m so sorry you’ve been robbed of the opportunity to get to know your brother.” She puts her hand to her heart, looking like she’s trying to physically keep herself from breaking apart.
“I hope through the stories we share over the next few days, you’ll be able to feel closer to him. We’re so glad you could be here with us today.” I nod, rapidly blinking away the tears beginning to prick behind my eyes.
The way Ingrid put it is similar to the way Mum did—that I’m losing an opportunity to get to know my birth family. And while I didn't think that much about them growing up, I’ve sure been thinking about my birth family a lot in the last few weeks. My conversation with Noah, especially, has put things into a new perspective. I do feel like I’ve missed out on getting to know my birth family.
As more people get up to speak it becomes obvious that some of these speakers work at other resorts. They all share stories like Ingrid had earlier, or like Noah had this morning. People share their experiences of Craig organizing in-resort childcare for staff members’ children when schools were closed, letting staff have first dibs on lost property which had been abandoned, and visiting staff members while they were in hospital.
It’s truly starting to feel like I’m missing an opportunity to get to know Craig and build a relationship with a man who, in different circumstances, might have been my friend.
We wrap up straight to dinner, where I sit at an elegantly decorated round table with five others. I only recognize Ingrid and one other woman who I saw at reception earlier. Ingrid introduces everyone, an older woman who had worked at the resort for years, but had recently retired to care for her grandchildren, someone who started working for the resorts only a few months ago, and the woman from reception I recognize.
“This is Mia, most of you probably have heard of her, except maybe Piper and Hilda; perhaps before and after your time.” Ingrid is referring to the recent recruit, Piper, and Hilda, the well-dressed grandmother. “Mia is the sister Craig has been looking for a while now. We’re so grateful you were able to come, Mia.”
I greet everyone, complimenting Piper on her beautiful earrings which look like tiny stained-glass windows. It takes a lot of restraint not to ask Ingrid to elaborate on what she meant earlier about Craig looking for me. But I’m piecing things together. Craig had been talking about me; or at least the potential of me, for a while now.
“It sounds like Craig was very hands-on around the resorts?” I ask, thinking of some of the examples that were discussed during the service earlier.
“Absolutely,” Ingrid and the others at the table nod. “We’re a bit like a family here, and I’m sure every workplace says that, but that’s absolutely true here. Your parents, Mia, they started this approach. Simon, your dad—I suppose, your birth dad, right? You were adopted as a baby?”
I wonder how she knows. I wonder how everyone seems to know. Craig must have been an open book.
“Simon’s parents, who owned the place before your parents—actually, how much do you know about the ownership structure of these resorts?” Ingrid is a fast talker and has a habit of letting her quick-thinking brain interrupt her. I’m glad she gives me the opportunity to jump in and ask questions, or I’d be completely lost.
“I know the resorts have been in the family for a really long time—since the early 1900s, I think? But I know nothing else.” I tuck my hair behind my ear, and butter a chunk of bread, breaking it to eat.
Hilda leans across from the other side of Ingrid. “I worked at the resorts since I was in my mid-twenties, so I might know some of the history, if you’re interested.”
I nod, chewing a mouthful of bread. I quickly swallow a too-big bite and have to suppress a cough. “I’d love to know. So far, I’ve only talked to a lawyer who told me all about this, and everything else I only know from Googling. Anything you can tell me I’m sure will be new to me.”
“The resorts were started in 1911. The first one was here, in Switzerland, and it was quite successful. The owners passed the resort to their children, and made their wishes that it stay in the family known.” Hilda explains.
“Surely with all these owners, if the resort passed to their children, eventually there would be a whole bunch of people who ended up owning it?”
“You’d expect that, wouldn’t you? Some chose not to have children, or, tragically, couldn’t, and their shares reverted to their siblings,” Ingrid explains.
“And now Bryce has shares, right? He’s not in the family, how did that happen?”
Ingrid nods. “That’s right. His grandparents bought shares from your grandparents. The resorts went through some tough times, so they sold off a portion. I think Bryce has been after a larger share for some time.”
Ingrid continues as Hilda and I tuck into the fantastic paella that’s just been served. “Simon’s parents were more traditional owners of the resort, in that they hired people, and over time, they’d be replaced with new people.” Hilda is chewing but murmurs in agreement.
“Simon and Shelly—well, frankly, it was mostly Shelly, if you ask me—recognized the importance of the people they had, and how difficult and frustrating it was when people left, and their position had to be filled. Shelly saw the only way to keep people working here was to ensure they were well looked after at work. Pay helps, of course,” Ingrid concedes, picking up her fork. “But if you have an awful time at work every single day, eventually the pay won’t be worth it.”
“And Craig has a similar view?”
Hilda nods. “He’s not exactly the same, he’s had some much more unconventional ideas that I’m not sure your parents would have tried on their own. But all in all, their style has stuck around.”
“And Bryce's style?” I’ve been dying to ask all evening. I’ve heard a bit from Noah, but another opinion on Bryce would be useful.
Hilda and Ingrid exchange glances. After a few seconds, Ingrid sighs and puts down her fork.
“Bryce does things differently to your parents and Craig.”
Hilda’s face contorts. “Humph! I worked here when your grandparents were in charge, Mia. Back when I started it was quite a different place to work. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t a bad place to work, but it was a place to work. When Simon and Shelly took over, things didn’t change overnight, of course they didn’t.” She takes a sip from her water glass. “But Simon and Shelly made an effort to make it a good place to work. Lots of perks and all that. When you’ve worked here for a certain amount of time, I can’t recall how long, you get free season passes for the rest of your life.” I raise my eyebrows. Quite a perk. Must be expensive.
“Bryce though…I think it’s fair to say he doesn’t quite see things the same as the Hillcrests.” Ingrid seems like she’s trying very hard to stay objective.
Hilda chortles, putting her hand on Ingrid’s arm. She looks around the room. “You are too kind, Ingrid, my dear.” She pins her gaze on me, eyes narrowed, then checks the room again. Hilda lowers her voice. “Bryce cares about one thing. Money.” Ingrid makes a face. She agrees, but I can tell she doesn’t feel comfortable adding more. There’s definitely something going on.
“Two things. Money and himself.” Hilda corrects herself. “He is not a man who worries about legacy. It’s not his legacy, after all.”
Just after I get back to my room, Gerrard calls.
"Bad news, I'm afraid, Mia. I've just got word that Craig passed about half an hour ago. I’m sorry to be the one telling you. Everyone else will be told in the morning, but I wanted to let you know tonight. We'll talk about the distribution of his estate—all to you—another time." The words shoot through me. Even though I’ve known for a while that Craig wasn't going to survive, the reality of his death hits me like a freight train. For the first time tonight, I've been starting to understand him. I was starting to see the similarities between us. I’d enjoyed learning about my birth family tonight.
It's a strange feeling when what you've lost is a potential. While I was initially resistant to the idea of a whole new family, now I've got no choice but to live my life never having known them. All I want now is to talk to my parents.
"Hi, Mia," Mum says. The radio is on in the background. "Everything alright?"
Now I've got her on the phone, I almost can’t believe I called about this. What was I going to do, tell her how all the fantastic things my birth brother had done? And then what do I expect her to do?
"I just wanted to hear your voice. Is Dad around too?" I ask. She'll see right through me, but it's the best I've got right now.
"He's right here," she says.
"Hi, darling." Dad sounds far away. "You didn't just call to talk to us about nothing." He doesn't sound suspicious, exactly, but he definitely doesn't buy my story.
"I just got off the phone with that lawyer." I know they'll know who I'm talking about. "Craig—my birth brother—has just died. And I feel weird bringing this up with you guys, but I didn't know who else to talk to." It’s surreal to talk to them about this.
Mum immediately goes into diagnosis mode. "Why do you think it feels strange to raise it with us? Talking with your parents about things that you're struggling with is never a strange thing to do, Mia."
Dad butts in, "Mia, are you alright?"
"It's just, it's about my birth family. And that feels strange to talk to you guys about." Now I've said it out loud, it feels less strange than I had thought.
"Mia. Your brother just died. Are you okay? How can we help, sweetie?" Dad asks. Mum murmurs quietly in the background.
I sigh, loud and heavy. "I don't know how to tell. I've learned so much about him this weekend, and now he's gone."
Mum makes a sympathetic sound down the phone, and my shoulders relax. "I'm so sorry, Mia. That's really difficult. How are you feeling?"
I tell them about the living memorial and what I've learned this weekend about the things Craig has done to develop the staff at the resorts. "He's put so much effort in, and there's this guy running them at the moment and I think it's fair to say it's not going that well. The staff are so upset about him."
"Well, Mia, isn't it a good opportunity for you to see what you can do to help?"
I'm surprised Dad would even suggest it. "I don't think it's my kind of thing."
"Helping people isn't your thing?" Mum disapproves, I can tell. "That's not how we raised you, Mia."
"I didn't mean it like that. It's just, I've already got a life and a job I love and everything." I cross my legs and lean back against the headboard.
"What do you like about your job at the moment, Mia?"
I frown. This is a tangent. "I like helping people grow. I like helping our clients, and it's cool to see people grow in confidence as they develop."
"Hmm," Mum says. She doesn't add anything else, but I've been to enough therapy to know I'm supposed to be thinking about how similar my goals are at work to what I could do at the resorts. But that won't work on me.
"It's just not my place, Mum." I sigh, running my hand through my hair. "It feels stupid that I was so worried to call you guys about Craig."
“Worried?” Mum asks.
"Why were you worried?" I hear Dad shushing Mum, who is trying to interrupt.
"It feels silly, now, but I thought you wouldn't like that I have...I don't know, feelings about my birth family. That I'm here at the resort, even."
Dad laughs, and things are right with the world again. "Well, your mother and I would love to come and visit the resorts sometime, but we're just worried about whether you've got enough support. You’ll always be our daughter, Mia. If you want to learn more about your birth family, or you want to spend more time—or all your time—at the resorts; that's fine with us. We love you. Aall we want is for you to be happy."
"Your dad and I have spent a long time waiting to see whether you’d get curious about your birth family. It’s normal for adopted children to be curious about where they came from, Mia. And you wondering about them says nothing about how much you love us. We know that."
I'm grateful I called them. By the time we hang up the phone nearly half an hour later, I’m lighter. I can hardly remember why I was so stressed to tell them. They're right, me being curious about my birth family has only strengthened my love and respect for my parents. Maybe it was silly to be this worried about it, after all.