Chapter 3 #2
Claudia had failed at the two most important things—her relationship and her job. Her entire life was like a disaster movie, with no happy ending in sight.
She checked her emails and found one from Erica. The subject line said Christmas Book Club.
She’d forgotten they’d talked about holding their book club meeting at Christmas, which said a lot about her state of mind given that she was the reason they’d had to cancel their usual summer gathering.
She clicked on the link Erica had sent, expecting it to lead her to the website of a fancy hotel in Manhattan that Claudia wouldn’t be able to afford, but instead of an exclusive hotel, she was looking at a cozy inn in Vermont that looked chocolate-box perfect.
Snow clung to the pitched roof and the surrounding forest. Lanterns glowed on either side of the front door.
She felt a pang.
When had she last seen snow? When she’d first moved to California she’d loved the sunshine, but lately she’d started to miss the stunning fall colors and the crisp winters she’d enjoyed as a child growing up in New Hampshire.
She scrolled down and read the text.
Nestled in a picturesque corner of Vermont, surrounded by rugged mountains and meandering rivers, stands the historic Maple Sugar Inn.
Originally an eighteenth-century lodging house, it was rescued from its dilapidated state by Hattie and Brent Coleman who lovingly converted it into a boutique hotel.
Sadly, Brent died suddenly a year after the inn opened to the public, and it was left to Hattie to continue the work alone.
“Oh. That’s horrible.” Claudia stopped reading for a moment, thinking about Hattie Coleman. Someone else whom life had tried to flatten. Living her dream with the love of her life and then—wham. All over.
According to the article Hattie had moved from London with Brent, who was American, with the purpose of settling in Vermont and living their dream.
As someone who had moved across the country to be with a man, Claudia sympathized with how Hattie must be feeling right now.
Was she missing home? Wishing she’d never moved?
Had she bought a plane ticket back to England?
She felt a stab of sympathy and enlarged the photo of Hattie and her husband, Brent. They were smiling. They looked so happy. And they had a child, a toddler with curls and a big smile. Now fatherless. Why did life have to be so utterly cruel?
Her throat felt full and she closed the photo and went back to the website.
“It has been a labor of love,” Hattie told us as she served us a perfect apple and parsnip soup topped with a swirl of cream and toasted parsnip crisps. With log fires, four-poster beds and spectacular views, it is considered the place for a romantic winter getaway away from it all.
Salivating at the thought of toasted parsnip crisps—she might have added a few shavings of aged parmesan—Claudia frowned. Romantic? Away from it all? The place did not sound like somewhere Erica would choose.
She picked up her phone, but instead of calling Erica she called Anna.
“It’s me. I’ve had a strange email from Erica. Is she okay? I’m worried she has had a bang on the head.”
“I said the same the moment she mentioned Catherine Swift.”
“Is that her book choice? I hadn’t read that far in the email. I was talking about the Maple Sugar Inn.”
“Oh, that. Cute name, don’t you think?”
Claudia could hear clattering sounds in the background. She could imagine Anna busy in the warm fug of her spacious kitchen. Cooking for her family.
She felt a stab of envy. It was sad that being a professional chef had sucked all the joy out of cooking. “Since when did Erica like cute things?”
“I said the same thing.”
Claudia stood up and poured herself another coffee. “And?”
“And nothing. She said she thought the place looked great. But there was something not quite right about the whole conversation. Do you think there’s something going on that she’s not sharing?”
“I don’t know.” Claudia sat down at the table and thought back to all the time they’d spent together lately. She felt a flash of guilt and then shame. Had she even asked about Erica’s life? “Do you think something is going on?”
“I’m not sure, but this seems unlike her.
But whatever her reasons, it does look like a gorgeous place.
If we do it, Erica could pick you up from the airport and the two of you could spend the night here.
Pete and the kids would love to see you.
Then we can all drive together the following morning. ”
“If? Are you saying you might not be able to come?”
“I need to talk to the family. They might not want me to go. Christmas is family time for us.”
Of course it was. Christmas at Anna’s was like something out of a movie. A perfectly choreographed festive celebration. Her life was a cheery candy cane, whereas Claudia’s resembled gray melting snow.
She felt a thud of misery. Last Christmas she and John had decorated their apartment together. They’d stuffed stockings with gifts and watched old movies. She’d served a mouthwatering roast partridge with a sauce made from fresh blackberries.
This Christmas would be just her, alone in the apartment they used to share.
She tried to focus on her friend. “What does Pete think?”
“I’m going to talk to the whole family tonight. If they’re really disappointed, then I might need to rethink. I don’t want to ruin Christmas for them. How about you? If it happens, would you come?”
Claudia added up the numbers in her head. A room in the Maple Sugar Inn in December wouldn’t be cheap, and then there was the flight. It would eat up the last of her savings.
Still, it did look magical. And after the rotten few months she’d had, she deserved to treat herself.
The idea of a week with her friends was too tempting to turn down.
She’d have plenty of time to worry about money when she was back.
And maybe being away from the apartment would clear her head and help her make decisions about what to do next.
“I’m in if you are. But I’m not reading Catherine Swift. I hate romance at the best of times, and this isn’t the best of times.”
“It’s not a romance. Erica says it’s a thriller. She has sent us both a copy, which should be arriving tomorrow. It’s called Her Last Lover.”
Claudia typed the author name into her search engine. “Here we are. Yes, her latest book is a thriller.” She scanned the details. “Ooh, he’s her last lover because she kills him. I could get on board with that. It’s about a woman getting revenge on a man.”
“Sounds totally awful,” Anna said. “I might have to bring Jane Austen as an antidote.”
“I think it sounds good. I can think of a few men I’d like to kill, starting with John.”
“Has he been in touch?” Anna’s voice was gentle.
“No, but given that I told him six months ago never to get in touch again maybe that’s not surprising. And I don’t regret that. I don’t want to hear from him. How do people stay friends with their exes? I don’t get it. Thanks for sending that gorgeous makeup by the way. It cheered me up.”
“You’re welcome. How have you been?”
“Mixed.” She and Anna were always honest with each other.
“At first, I was sad, as you know. Now I’m mostly angry.
I prefer angry. I get things done when I’m angry.
I’m angry with him for cheating, and not having the guts to tell me things didn’t feel right to him.
It’s disrespectful and cowardly. I’m angry with myself for believing that what we had would last. I’m angry that I didn’t notice something was wrong. I wish I’d been better prepared.”
“Can you ever prepare for something like that?”
“I don’t know. But he forced change on me, and I would have preferred it to be my choice.
For a start I would have been more careful with money.
Do you know how much more expensive life is when there is just one of you?
” She took a deep breath. There was no reason not to tell Anna the truth.
“I lost my job. They were losing customers. They had to cut costs. I’m a cost.”
“Oh, Claudia, I’m sorry to hear that. Does Erica know?”
“No, not yet. She’s done nothing but listen to my woes lately so I thought she deserved a break.”
“She won’t agree with you, but you can talk to me anytime. You know that. Do you need money?” Anna didn’t hesitate. “Pete and I can lend you money.”
Claudia felt her throat thicken. Friends were everything, she decided.
“I’m fine at the moment, but I appreciate the offer.
My biggest problem is that I feel like a failure.
” It was hard to admit it. “You and Erica have made such a success of your lives, and what have I ever achieved? Sorry, ignore me. I’m horrible at the moment. ”
“No, you’re hurt and worried and coping with a lot.” Anna’s kindness was a balm. “I understand that Erica’s career success can be intimidating, particularly if you’re feeling a bit low and uncertain about your own life, but I don’t know why you think I’m a success. What have I ever achieved?”
She couldn’t believe Anna was asking her that.
“Er—a wonderful marriage and two well-adjusted children.” She hadn’t even managed to succeed at the marriage part.
Claudia felt pressure in her chest. She’d thought she and John would be together forever, and she was still coming to terms with a future that looked very different from the one she’d planned.
“I’ll tell Erica about the job at some point of course, but I don’t want her to have to prop me up again.
I need to fix this myself. And don’t feel you have to say anything wise.
All I need is to hear you agree my life sucks and it’s okay to feel miserable. ”
“Your life sucks,” Anna said, “and it’s okay to feel miserable.”
“Thanks.” Claudia sniffed and smiled at the same time.
“I can always rely on you to say the right things. You’re a good friend.
Please come to our Christmas book club, Anna.
You’re comforting and relaxing to be around.
Also, I miss you, even though you have the perfect life and sometimes I want to hate you. ”
“My life is not perfect. Stop thinking everyone else’s lives are perfect.”
“Stop trying to make me feel better. Your life is perfect, and I’m pleased for you. Talk to Pete and the kids and let us know.”