Chapter 27
“There she is!” Megan waved me over as I entered the dining room of The Snowdrift Inn. “Oh, it’s so good to see you. I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but somehow it feels like forever.”
She stood to hug me, until Hannah all but shoved her mom out of the way to get her turn.
“You look great,” she said with a suspicious smirk. “Mountain air agrees with you, huh?”
I smothered a grin because, let’s face it, she’d seen me stroll into work once or twice, a little hungover and a tad peppy after a hookup. And that was absolutely not a conversation we were having in front of her mother. I was supposed to be a good influence.
“This town agrees with me,” I said instead, and took a seat between them at the table, where they were already enjoying their Snowbird Specials.
“I love it here, Elle,” Hannah said, her eyes sparkling. “The snow, the lights—it’s like a fairy tale!”
Megan laughed. “You’ve created a monster. She’s already asking if we can come back next year.”
Hannah’s enthusiasm was contagious. She perked up even more when a young man in an apron strolled over from the kitchen.
“Extra side of bacon and two waffles?” he said, flashing a big white smile as he set the plate down in front of me.
“This for me?” It was always my go-to when they invited me over back home.
“I wouldn’t forget,” Megan said, nodding as she sipped her coffee.
“Hi, I’m Owen.” The young man with dark curly hair and freckles addressed this mostly to Hannah. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can get for you.”
Hannah blushed, suddenly shy. Megan and I exchanged a knowing glance.
“Alright, Owen, wrap it up,” Pops exclaimed, strolling through the dining room. “Those eggs aren’t scrambling themselves in there.”
Owen tucked his tail and returned to the kitchen as Pops came over to say hello.
“Picked up an extra pair of hands?” I asked.
“Nice kid. Helping out in the kitchen a few days a week over winter break. Gets a little distracted around the ladies, if you know what I mean.”
Hannah turned her attention back to her plate and dug in, a little bashful.
“He’s cute,” Megan said, glancing back toward the kitchen. “Should I be worried?”
Pops laughed, swatting at the air. “Ah, he’s a good kid. Harmless.”
Once Pops started making the rounds to check on the other tables, Megan turned serious. “So, tell me. How’s it really going up there? The job, the family, all of it.”
I hesitated, then decided to be honest. “It’s . . . intense. Mrs. Hawthorne is a bit of a dragon. But the work itself is rewarding, and Charles—” I stopped myself, heat rising to my cheeks.
“Ah, Charles,” Megan teased, her eyes gleaming. “I wondered how long it would take for him to come up.”
I sighed. “It’s complicated. But honestly, what’s been on my mind more is the Instagram account. It’s taken off in a way I couldn’t have expected. People love the behind-the-scenes look at life as a private chef in the Rockies.”
Megan was already up to date on the new account. As a marketing tool, she thought it was genius. Only problem was, I wouldn’t be able to tell potential clients it was me. A small flaw in the plan.
Megan nodded thoughtfully. “You’ve always had a knack for storytelling, Elle. And I think it informs your cooking. From what I’ve seen, it seems like you’ve been doing the best food of your life out here. I think Maplewood Creek has been good for you.”
“It has,” I admitted. “I’ll be sort of sad to let it go when the season ends. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still stoked for London. ACE has been my dream forever. But I’m really going to miss this place.”
“That’s the great thing about dreams,” Megan said gently. “You never have to stop at just one. After you’ve conquered London, maybe Maplewood Creek could be a new dream for you.”
Her words lingered with me long after we parted. And while my schedule for the day was tight, there was one more errand I wanted to see to.
I texted Mia on my way to the marketplace. She met me at the picnic tables outside the barn with some hot cocoa, and we both took a seat in the warmth of the nearby space heater.
“So, today’s the big event,” she said. “I figured you’d be neck-deep in butternut squash by now.”
“I will be soon,” I assured her, a little daunted by the scale of what was waiting for me back at the chalet. “But first, I wanted to clear the air about something.”
“Uh-oh.” Her smile turned a bit anxious. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“You and Charles. I know this is totally none of my business, but I have to know. What went wrong between you two?”
Much as I had told myself I wouldn’t get involved in the gossip, things were different now.
I cared about Charles. About where this thing between us might go from here.
And if there was any possibility of a future beyond this season, I had to know what I was getting myself into. For better or worse.
“Oh.” Mia sighed. She took a sip of her cocoa while she deliberated over how much she cared to divulge.
A big part of me expected her to deflect. Or tell me outright to get lost. Whatever had happened, she was holding on to that grudge pretty tight. And by now, she probably had some inkling that Charles and I were together. So, it was conceivable I wouldn’t be her favorite person right now.
“Believe it or not, we used to be close friends,” she began after a while, looking out over the bustling parking lot and kids running around in the snow, while their parents chatted with other adults going in and out of the marketplace.
“His grandparents and mine had known each other for years. We sort of grew up together.”
I braced myself for the worst. A revelation that might shake the foundation of whatever I thought was growing between Charles and me.
“Anyway. I told you about my idea for culinary-inspired vacations to Maplewood Creek.”
“Yeah . . .” That came from left field. Not at all where I thought this conversation was headed.
“Well, one year when he was up here on vacation from business school, I approached Charlie about the idea. To invest in the business, you know. Be partners. We were going to bring Pops and the Snowdrift in on it, as well as some of the other local businesses. I put together this whole presentation. He seemed excited about it. Said he’d bring it up to his dad and get us the funding to get started. ”
“So, what happened?”
She scoffed. “He blew me off. Was more interested in getting wasted and partying with his douchebag friends. Then he plowed his car into the Snowdrift sign one night. Got hauled off to the drunk tank. That was the last time he showed his face in town. Never heard from him again. Just left me hanging with all these promises I’d made to people. Got my hopes up and vanished.”
“Oh, Mia. I’m so sorry.”
“Whatever,” she said bitterly. “Probably better off, right? To figure out who he really was, before it was too late.”
I had prepared myself to hear that they were exes. That he’d cheated on her. Broken her heart. Somehow, this was almost worse. Not because I thought it made Charles a bad guy, but because it was such an enormous misunderstanding.
“He told me about the sign at The Snowdrift,” I said.
“And the drinking. His grandfather had just died and it really messed him up for a while. I know it’s no excuse, but I think he was so wrapped up in his own grief, he wasn’t thinking about anyone else.
Still, I know if he understood how much he hurt you, he’d feel awful about it. ”
Mia shrugged. “I don’t even care anymore. It was forever ago, right?”
She wasn’t convincing anyone. Least of all herself. And I didn’t blame her. I’d be pretty sore about it too, if someone blew up my dreams. I felt for Mia. I wanted so badly to make it right.
“Maybe you two could talk. Get it all out in the open and reconcile.”
“I think it’s too late for that,” she said, standing. “Anyway. I’ve got to get back to my stall. See you around, okay?”
Mia was a proud person. It wasn’t in her nature to ask for help. I understood how she felt. But I’d grown to care about them both. If it was in my power to help, I had to try. In the spirit of the holidays.