Chapter 65
SYLVIE
We carried everything into the lodge, making multiple trips to unload all the supplies we’d picked up in town. Kent was quiet as we worked, his usual easy conversation replaced by a tension I could feel radiating off him in waves.
After we set down the last bag in the kitchen, he turned to me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “I need to make a call.”
My stomach dropped. I knew exactly what call he was talking about, or rather, who he needed to call. His father. The conversation he’d been putting off since he’d made his decision to invest in the lodge.
“Is there anything I can do?” I asked, reaching for his hand.
He squeezed my fingers gently but shook his head. “No, this is something I need to do alone.”
I could see the weight of it settling on his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened with determination mixed with dread. I knew he was about to potentially blow up his entire relationship with his family, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to make it easier for him.
So I did the only thing I could. I pulled him down for a kiss, trying to pour every ounce of support and love I had into that connection. When I pulled back, I looked him straight in the eyes.
“I’m here when you’re done,” I said simply. “Whatever happens, I’m here.”
He nodded, his throat working as he swallowed hard. Then he turned and headed outside where he could have some privacy.
I watched him go, my heart aching for what he was about to face. But I couldn’t dwell on it. We had a party to prepare for, and standing around worrying wouldn’t help anyone.
I got right to work.
“Where do you need me?” I asked Brom and Stacy, who were both looking just a little frazzled.
“We’ve got three hours until guests start arriving, and approximately seventeen thousand things left to do,” Brom said.
I couldn’t help but laugh. It was a side of my brother I hadn’t seen in months. He was the guy that worked behind the scenes or took care of projects that didn’t require a lot of interaction with guests or anyone else.
The stress lines around his eyes had softened. For the first time in ages, he looked genuinely excited about something instead of just grimly determined to keep everything from falling apart.
Stacy’s hair was falling out of her messy bun. “He’s basically running in circles,” Stacy said.
“Put me in, coach,” I said with a laugh.
I was beyond excited. Tonight no longer had that dark cloud hanging over it.
We weren’t dealing with the shadow of uncertainty about our future.
I could honestly say it was the first party in the last couple of years that would not be operating under that dark cloud.
This wasn’t our last Christmas at the lodge.
It was our last Christmas before we stepped into the next phase of the lodge’s future.
None of us expected to be here next Christmas. We had all accepted it even if we didn’t truly want to believe it was coming.
The transformation in everyone’s mood was remarkable. Even Stacy, who’d been stressed about menu planning and kitchen logistics all week, had a spring in her step as she bustled between the main room and the kitchen, making last-minute adjustments to the evening’s dinner service.
“I judged him harshly in the beginning,” Stacy said as we arranged centerpieces on each of the tables.
“What?” I asked.
She gestured vaguely in the direction Kent had gone. “Your city boy. Brom isn’t going to say it, so I will say it for us both. We were wrong.”
I laughed. “Be careful. We don’t want Brom to hear you say that. I don’t think he knows what those words mean.”
“He’ll come around,” she said. “I like him.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not going to lie, I had my reservations, but he’s grown on me.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised by the admission. Stacy wasn’t usually one to change her opinion about people quickly.
“Really. He’s saving us. Saving my children’s home.
Maybe he saved my marriage because I swear I was going to murder your brother if he didn’t pull his head out of his ass.
I cannot remember the last time I saw him this happy.
He’s truly happy. Relieved. It’s like a thousand-pound gorilla just hopped off his back. ”
I smiled because it was true. We were all feeling the relief. “But we all agree there is still a lot of work to do.”
“Of course, but it’s working toward something,” she said.
“Before, we were treading water and failing. We were sinking fast and none of us could save each other. I am looking forward to working hard. I’ve got some ideas for improving our menu.
All stuff we can work out after the first of the year. I want to focus on the right now.”
“I agree.”
“Plus, he makes you happy,” she added. “That counts for a lot in my book.”
I grinned.
Brom, who was hanging garland nearby, paused in his work.
Apparently, he had been listening in. “Yeah, well, I still have some reservations,” he said, though his tone was more thoughtful than hostile.
“But I’ll admit the guy has surprised me.
That light display he created? That took real effort.
And dedication. You don’t spend six hours in freezing weather stringing vintage Christmas lights unless you really care about someone. ”
The admission from Brom felt like a small miracle. My brother had been Kent’s harshest critic from the beginning. I didn’t blame him for being pissed at Kent but hearing him acknowledge Kent’s efforts meant more to me than I could express.
It was everything. And Dad obviously liked him.
It felt too good to be true, but it was real. He was mine and here and he was saving the family business.
One of the staff walked out of the kitchen with sandwiches stacked on a tray. “We’ve been working hard all day, and there’s still much to do,” she said. “Everyone needs to eat something before we all collapse from exhaustion.”
As we gathered around the food, I caught sight of something through the doorway to the main room that made my heart swell so much I thought it might burst.
Mom and Dad were dancing.
Not the formal, careful dancing they did at wedding receptions or formal events, but real dancing.
The kind where Mom had her arms wrapped around Dad’s neck and he was spinning her slowly around the room while they both laughed at something one of them had said.
The kind of dancing they used to do when Brom and I were kids, when we’d catch them in the kitchen after dinner, swaying to music only they could hear.
“When’s the last time you saw them do that?” I asked softly, my eyes welling with tears.
Brom stopped chewing and looked toward the main room, his expression softening. “Years,” he said quietly. “It’s been years.”
I watched my parents continue their impromptu dance, taking in the way Dad’s face had relaxed into something approaching genuine happiness, the way Mom was looking at him like they were newlyweds again instead of a couple who’d been married for over thirty years and dealing with more stress than any two people should have to handle.
This was what Kent’s investment offer had given us. Not just financial security, but hope. The chance to remember who we were when we weren’t constantly worried about keeping our heads above water.
Turned out, people could dance, eat and smile when they weren’t under a mountain of stress. Goodbye gorilla.
“Okay, everyone,” Stacy said carrying out a tray and breaking the moment. “I need honest feedback on these appetizers. Don’t just tell me they’re good—tell me what you really think.”
We dutifully tried everything on the tray, and honestly, it was all delicious. The bacon-wrapped scallops were perfectly cooked, the mushrooms were savory and rich, and the puff pastry things were some kind of amazing combination of cheese and herbs that made me want to eat the entire batch.
“These are incredible,” I said, reaching for a second mushroom. “The seasoning is perfect.”
“The scallops could use a little more time in the oven,” Brom added thoughtfully. “Maybe thirty seconds more? Just to get the bacon a little crunchier.”
Stacy’s expression went from hopeful to murderous in about half a second. “Are you kidding me? I came out here for praise, not a culinary critique! These are perfect as they are!”
She snatched the tray back and stalked toward the kitchen, muttering under her breath about ungrateful family members and people who wouldn’t know good food if it bit them on the ass.
“I’m going to pay for that later,” Brom said with a rueful grin, but he didn’t look particularly concerned. The old Brom would have been stressed about creating conflict. This version seemed content to let Stacy have her moment of artistic temperament.
“She’ll get over it,” Emmy said, waving dismissively. “Especially when everyone raves about those appetizers tonight. They really are amazing.”
The way my family was laughing and joking and allowing themselves to be excited about something again just made my heart swell. It made the magnitude of Kent’s gift even more clear.
For the first time in months, we weren’t just surviving. We were thriving. We could think about life and living instead of barely scraping by. Turned out there was a lot to live for.
I turned to look for Kent, wanting to share this moment with him. I wanted to let him see firsthand the joy his decision had brought to my family. But when I spotted him through the front windows, my excitement dimmed into concern.
He was pacing on the front porch, his phone pressed to his ear. Even from this distance I could see the tension in his shoulders. His free hand was running through his hair in the kind of agitated gesture that suggested whatever conversation he was having wasn’t going well.
Something was wrong.
I didn’t have to guess what. The poor man was getting his ass chewed out because of what he was doing for us.
I excused myself from the group and headed outside, wrapping my arms around myself as the cold air hit me. Kent was facing away from the lodge, staring out at the tree farm, but I could hear fragments of his conversation carried on the winter wind.
“I understand you’re disappointed… Yes, I know what the quarterly projections showed… No, this wasn’t a decision I made lightly.”
My stomach dropped. He was talking to his father. And from the sound of it, Armand Bancroft knew about our deal.
I waited at the edge of the porch, not wanting to interrupt but unable to walk away when Kent was clearly struggling.
I wanted to go to him, but something told me to wait. Let him deal with this in his way. He had assured me over and over he wanted to do this. He chose us over his family. That was something that was going to take some time to work through. All I could do was wait and be there when he needed me.
The papers were signed. He wasn’t going to change his mind.
It was done.