Chapter Five
I t wasn’t long after seven-thirty that the party was in full swing. The great room was packed with the Carmichael family, Duke and Sue’s boarders, and fifty to sixty members of the Keystone Ridge community conversing, sampling all the delicious food, and admiring the giant Christmas tree that made the room come alive in a golden glow. Jeannie’s second cousins, Lyndsay and Collin, had already made a dent in the dessert table, and Gloria was floating through the great room ensuring everyone had a beverage in hand.
The band was so good that there was already a dance floor, a new addition to the Carmichael Christmas Eve party.
The fact that Everett and his band were playing a mix of Billboard Hot100 singles and upbeat Christmas songs didn’t hurt either. The jazz trio had always been more of a background noise rather than the main event.
Right in the thick of things was Duke giving a bear hug to a guest who’d just arrived.
“Look who’s here!” Duke said, turning to Jeannie with his arm around a man wearing a baby-blue turtleneck the same colour as his eyes and sporting a tidy blond side-part.
“Erik!” Jeannie said. “I hardly recognised you without the shaggy hair!” She hugged Erik Larsen, a former Aussie boarder who now lived in the city with his Canadian wife.
“I had to come, even for a few hours. But I had to leave Kristen behind,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “Eight-and-a-half months pregnant. She’s not up to travelling too much these days.” He was dripping with pride and excitement.
“Send her my best,” Jeannie said. “You’ll have a January baby. They’re always top of the class at school.”
Duke practically ripped Erik’s arm off, pulling him over to where Sue was holding court, and Jeannie stood alone again watching the band, sipping on a glass of white wine, and finding her gaze continuing to flicker back to Everett. He was very charming. Not really her type, but maybe one date wouldn’t hurt. Being alone for New Year’s was going to be depressing, especially given the fairy-tale evening she’d envisioned for that night.
When someone tapped her shoulder, she tensed up. It could only be one person. Sure enough, she turned to find Lincoln Morrison wearing a poorly fitting dress shirt and red tie, and looking just as much like the perpetual sad sack as she’d remembered. He was what her mother considered handsome? “Hi, Jeannie,” Lincoln said, sliding his arm around her shoulder and looking her up and down. “You’re looking great these days.”
And you look like a used car salesman , she thought, forcing a smile. “Hi, Lincoln. What’s new?”
“Not much. I’ve taken over managing the ski lodge. So, life’s been good. You should stop by sometime.” He raised his eyebrows and leaned in. “I’ll hook you up with a free lift ticket.” She instinctively shrugged her shoulder a little to loosen his grip as she caught a whiff of his unique brand of halitosis. A master pick-up artist.
“That sounds great, Lincoln. I’ll have to do that.” She rolled out from under his arm around her shoulder and took a step to the side.
“Wanna dance?” he asked. Jeannie glanced over to Everett and caught him observing the interaction intently. He raised his eyebrow, then turned back to the mic, where he added a harmony to the chorus of “Maggie May.”
“I was actually just about to get another drink,” Jeannie said, suddenly desperate to put more space between herself and Lincoln so that Everett didn’t get the wrong idea. “Excuse me.”
“I’ll come with you,” Lincoln said. Ugh. If only she hadn’t been raised to be so polite.
With Lincoln on her tail, she shook her head as she approached the bar. What did she care if Everett thought she had a boyfriend?
“What can I get you?” asked Sam Forrester, the bartender from The Loose Moose in town, which was shut down for the evening since everyone who was out would be at the party. Sue had offered him the job, promising to put out a big and obvious tip jar knowing that he needed the tips these days, especially with twins on the way.
“I’ll take a beer,” Jeannie said to Sam, then turned back to face the stage while Lincoln ordered a beer for himself. Everett was confident and talented. She loved watching him play, and it was obvious she wasn’t the only person in the room who felt that way judging by how many people were giving their full attention to the stage. She tried to divide her own attention evenly between the four members of the band, but she kept drifting back to him. Everett, on the other hand, was less concerned about being caught watching her. She drank in the feeling of his rapt attention.
“How about that dance?” Lincoln asked as soon as they both had their drinks in hand. Jeannie took a deep breath. She would give him one dance to get him off her case and to placate her mother, who was shooting daggers at her from across the room. Since they were holding their drinks, she could get away with not touching him.
Just as a song ended and the band played the opening notes of a slow Bee Gees song, Jeannie noticed out of the corner of her eye as Everett signalled something to the drummer, who appeared confused for a second. The song ended abruptly, and seconds later they launched into “Macho Man” by the Village People.
Jeannie almost burst out laughing, while Lincoln’s face fell. “Aw, I liked that song,” he said, but followed Jeannie’s lead as she started dancing. She positioned herself so she could see the stage over Lincoln’s shoulder and feigned interest in what he was saying—something about a new car he was planning to buy after the winter—while she continued to enjoy watching Everett play. They were no longer pretending they weren’t purposefully making eye contact. She was happy she’d chosen the red sequins over the dowdy pinafore. Jeannie felt attractive and desirable, and wished it were Everett out on the dance floor with her instead of Stinky Linky.
The song ended, and Lincoln put both of their empty bottles on one of the tall circular tables bordering the room. Sue stepped onto the dance floor and took Jeannie by the elbow. “I’m so sorry to interrupt you two, but I need Jeannie’s help in the kitchen,” Sue said.
“Of course, Mrs. Carmichael,” Lincoln said.
Bless you! Jeannie thought as she trailed Sue through the crowd. Once they were safely away from Lincoln, Sue turned and gave her a quick conspiratorial wink.
“I can’t stand the thought of that snively little wimp thinking he has a chance with you,” Sue whispered as they retreated into the kitchen. “But I do need your help. I completely forgot to put out the mulled wine. It’s too hot to serve, though. Can you help me bring it outside to cool off for a couple of minutes?”
“Of course,” Jeannie said. She accepted the oven mitts Sue passed her, then stood beside the pot waiting until her grandma was ready to lift. The mulled wine smelled like a holiday-infused dream, with cardamom, cinnamon, nutmeg, and orange peels floating at the top of the deep ruby-red drink.
“Careful, careful,” Sue said. “Let’s go out the side door.”
Slowly, so nothing sloshed over the side and burned them, they carried out the steaming pot to the side of the lodge where it wasn’t in danger of anyone stepping on it and placed it in a snow drift just off to the side of the stairs, using a tea towel as a cover to keep out the snow. It was so hot that the snow surrounding the pot melted instantly.
“I’ll set a mental timer,” Sue said. “Won’t take much longer than ten minutes.”
A strong wind blew a gust of flurries right into their faces. “Geez Louise! It’s really coming down out here!”
Jeannie used her oven mitt to shield her face from the snow as they retreated back inside. It was almost a blizzard.
Back in the safety of the kitchen, they stomped their boots and shook the snow off their clothes. “I didn’t realise we were getting a storm,” Jeannie said. The forecast that day had called for light flurries, and nothing more.
“You know what it’s like around here,” Sue said. “Four seasons in one day, and a fifth if you’re unlucky. Now, go on back out there.”
“Just let me know when you want to bring that pot back in,” Jeannie said.
“Say,” said Sue. “I don’t usually like loud music. But I like this band. Especially the guitar player,” she said, winking at Jeannie. “He’s a real sweetie.”
Jeannie rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay.”
“Any song you’d like him to sing?”
Jeannie’s jaw dropped. Had Everett already gotten to her grandma?
He was persistent; she’d give him that.
*
As soon as she returned to the great room, Jeannie ran right into her grandfather. His cheeks were rosy, and his plate was piled high with macaroni and cheese. Her heart warmed, seeing him enjoying himself so much. “Where’s your grandma? Everyone’s looking for her.”
“She’s right behind me,” Jeannie said.
“Apparently there’s some kind of surprise for her.”
Duke spotted Sue coming out of the kitchen and waved her over. “The boys have something for you,” he said.
“What the heck does that mean?” Sue asked. “You mean their rent for the month? Half of them still owe me for November! How am I supposed to winter next year in Tahiti at this rate?”
Jeannie smiled. Sue feigned annoyance at her boarders all the time, but she knew her grandma had a soft spot for them, and there was never a year where they weren’t all paid up by the end of the season once they’d learned how to manage their money and not blow a whole paycheque at The Grizzly House disco in Banff, where they’d been known to drink gallons of beer and order Chinese food through a hole in the wall between the bar and the restaurant, then stumble back into the lodge at what Sue called ungodly hours . Jeannie knew her grandma never slept deeply until they were all home and accounted for.
Jeannie watched as Phil, a twenty-one-year-old return visitor and one of the most spirited of the boarders, approached the stage with a glint of mischief in his eye and had a few words with Everett. Whatever he’d said made Everett smile, and after conferring with his bandmates, Everett passed Phil the microphone as Archie pulled a chair out to the middle of the dance floor, shooing the guests to form a circle around the periphery.
“Ah, hello everyone!” Phil said. “I’m Phil. I’m one of the lucky fellas who gets to live here for the winter with the Carmichaels, the best darn hosts you could ever imagine. So, the bunch of us have gotten together to prepare a little song for the woman who takes care of us all and puts up with us whackers!”
The crowd cheered, and Jeannie watched as Sue sat in the chair in the middle of the floor, grinning from ear to ear. “Someone’s got to keep you bunch in line!” she called.
One of the other Aussies whistled loudly, then pulled a Santa hat from his back pocket and settled it on his thick mop of black hair.
One by one, all the boarders assembled at the front of the room wearing matching hats, many of their shirts undone some or part of the way, two of the more muscular of the crew having lost them completely, eager to show off their sculpted physiques. Most of them were holding a pint or a beer bottle, a couple of them stumbling and a little more red-cheeked than the others.
“This one goes out to you, Mrs. Carmichael,” Phil announced. “Or should I say, Mrs. Claus!” There were a few titters and murmurs from the crowd as Phil nodded to the band, who played the opening notes of Nat King Cole’s “Mrs. Santa Claus.” The crowd cheered, and Sue clapped as, one by one, each member of the group took to the mic and sang a line of the song with their own revised lyrics before passing it on to the next guy.
Who feeds the Aussies three times aday?
Who wraps our lunch and makes itgourmet?
Jeannie grinned and clapped her hands, as Sue bent over in her chair, laughing.
Who’s helping us survive theworkday?
Mrs. SantaClaus!
Who keeps our ski suits lookingnice?
Who do we turn to foradvice?
Who gives the brownies all theirspice?
Mrs. SantaClaus!
The crowd was eating it up. The boarders crowded around the mic and sang the next section in unison.
She pitter-patters all around thekitchen
The whole yearlong
Amid the happy clatter of thekitchen
She scolds us all when we’ve done somethingwrong!
Sue was laughing so hard, tears streamed down her face, and the whole crowd was cheering on the boarders’ terrible but endearing singing, if it could have even been called that. Wild applause roared at the end, and Jeannie gasped as the whole group of them surrounded her grandmother, hoisting up her chair and lifting her up above the crowd.
There were hugs all around after Sue was back safely on the ground. Jeannie looked over at Everett, who was smiling that delicious half-smile and playing a few chords on his guitar. “We’re going to take a quick break,” he said into the mic, and from the back of the room, Duke cued up a record to keep the music flowing.
*
Jeannie pretended not to notice as Everett wove his way through the crowd to her, and she smoothed out her hair quickly as she looked intently at her beer bottle.
“Is that guy your boyfriend?” he asked as soon as he was beside her. She was surprised by his directness and thrilled that he seemed to care.
“No. He’s most definitely not my boyfriend.” Thankfully that was cleared up.
“Good. Because I’ve been waiting to dance with you all night.”
She barely had time to put her bottle down when, without another word, he took her hand and led her right into the middle of the dance floor and slipped his arm around her waist. She was already warm, but he was warmer, and the heat of electricity coursed through her body. She couldn’t imagine how she’d almost not invited Everett and his band to play. It was a perfect night, and a perfect moment. She could have fun on Christmas Eve, couldn’t she? Ben Kane wasn’t the only one who could have a fling with someone from a pub.
“This has been a great night,” Everett said, his warm breath tickling the fine hairs on her neck.
“I’m glad,” she said. “I would have thought you’d have plans on Christmas Eve, though.”
“Nothing as fun as this. This place is right out of a movie,” he said. “And your family is great.”
Jeannie glanced over first to her parents, who were talking to Mayor Kelley and his wife, then to Lyndsay and Collin, who were now fully sugared up and were chasing each other through the partygoers. Her mother caught her eye again, and the daggers had turned to lightning bolts. Gloria was not okay with a musician match-up; that much was clear.
Her mother might have been disapproving of Jeannie’s outfit, but Jeannie knew Gloria was thrilled with the type of men that Jeannie met through her career. Men like Ben Kane.
“Yeah, they’re all right,” she said to Everett. If not a tad overbearing and a hint controlling—at least her mother. But she knew she was lucky.
“So… Which songs have you liked?”
“Hah. I’m not telling.”
“You perked up during Chicago. Is it a Chicago song?”
“Nope.”
“I thought I saw you sing along to AC/DC. Warmer or colder?”
“I’m not telling!” This was fun. Although there was a chance that he was just a giant flirt and he pulled this shtick with women at gigs all the time. “And are you stalking me or something? You should be paying attention to the party.”
“Oh, I am,” he said, pulling her a bit closer. “So, what you’re saying is that we haven’t played it yet?”
Jeannie shrugged. “Not yet,” she said.
“We’re running out of time. Can’t I have just one clue?”
Jeannie bit her lip. “Fine. It has the word love in it.”
Everett narrowed his eyes. He was even more irresistible when he feigned annoyance. “So, like every song.”
“Not every one.”
“You think I’m going to give up.” He used the pad of his thumb to trace a circle on the palm of her hand, and she was melting as quickly as the ice in Sam’s bar bucket. “All right. I’m going to get some water, then we’re back on stage,” he said.
“Already?” asked Jeannie. Don’t leave , she thought.
“That’s why you’re paying us the big bucks. Thanks for the dance.” He pulled her hand up to his mouth and kissed it, his eyes alight with desire. “One more hint?” he asked.
“Get back on stage,” she said, swatting him away. She couldn’t wait until the next break.
“Just thought I’d try,” he said, and then she was standing alone again, wondering if there was something about Christmas Eve that was making them all just a little bit loony.