Chapter Four
The next morning, Caroline woke up early. She lay in bed, wishing it were the previous Christmas and she was in her bedroom at the cabin. Her mother and Daphne would be downstairs making waffles while Christmas music played in the background. Anne had loved all kinds of Christmas music. The classics, and Mariah Carey, and whatever was trending on Spotify.
But then she pulled back the shades, and her heart made a small leap. It had snowed overnight, and everything was white. Skiers trudged over deep powder, and the roof of the ski gondola was blanketed with a layer of snow. The branches of the aspen trees were white, and the frozen creek outside her room was the blue-white of a diamond.
Caroline dressed warmly in a wool coat and suede boots. She grabbed a bagel and a cup of coffee from the hotel restaurant and approached the reception desk. A different man stood behind the counter.
“How can I help you, Miss Holt?” he asked when she told him her name. “We have ski rentals on the property. And I’d be happy to make dinner reservations. Aspen gets so busy at Christmas, it’s better to plan ahead.”
Caroline didn’t have time to go skiing. And she didn’t have anyone to eat dinner with. She was there to find Anne’s lover. She explained about her mother’s stay in June.
“Did my mother make any special requests?” Caroline asked. “Perhaps she rented fat-tire bicycles or booked one of the horseback-riding tours.”
The man scrolled down his computer screen.
“I’m afraid not. I do see newspapers delivered to the room. The New York Times and The Philadelphia Inquirer. ”
Anne couldn’t live without her New York Times. Caroline had encouraged her to read it online. Anne could read it on her phone on the way to work or during lunchtime. But she refused. She usually walked the six blocks to the House of Books instead of taking the subway, and her lunch hours were spent taking editors and authors to lunch.
The Philadelphia Inquirer didn’t tell Caroline anything. If it had been a small-town newspaper, it might have been a clue. But over a million people lived in Philadelphia.
Caroline thanked him and walked on to Main Street. The sidewalk was filled with people enjoying the crisp morning air. Women wearing parkas carried designer shopping bags, and children bundled in ski suits clutched hot chocolates. Several men had toddlers perched on their shoulders, and a young couple held a small paper bag that Caroline guessed was from a bakery.
She couldn’t resist entering a women’s clothing boutique called Odd Molly. The inn’s website said it had been an Aspen favorite for years. She picked out a snowflake-patterned sweater for Daphne and a wool scarf for herself. Then she went to a men’s store and bought a pair of wool gloves for Luke. As she left, something on the opposite sidewalk caught her attention. It was Santa’s Little Red Mailbox.
Of course—why hadn’t she thought of it sooner?
Anne’s lover could have visited the gift shop next to Santa’s Little Red Mailbox to buy the envelope. Maybe someone there would remember him.
She hurried across the street. The mailbox looked just like in the photos when she searched it online. LETTERS FROM SANTA was printed in white capitals. Below that, it read “This mailbox will be emptied on the first of December.”
That was why it took six months for Anne’s letter to arrive.
The interior wasn’t anything like the trendy gift shops in Hudson with their glass shelves of scented candles and bath soaps. And it wasn’t like Cold Spring General Store and its metal racks of Christmas cards and slightly dusty board games. Instead, it resembled the parlor of a Victorian mansion. Tables were arranged with porcelain dolls, and there was a bookshelf with leather-bound books. Christmas ornaments were everywhere—on top of the books, on the cash register, in the windows of a large gingerbread house.
“Excuse me.” Caroline addressed the girl behind the counter. “This is a long shot, but I’m looking for a man who bought a Letter from Santa envelope last June. It’s important that I find him.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t work here during the summer.” The girl shrugged.
“No, of course not,” Caroline sighed. She was about to leave but the girl stopped her.
“You could ask the owner, Beth. She remembers practically every face.”
Caroline turned around. “She does?”
“If I had her memory, I would have aced my college classes,” the girl said cheerfully. “She’s owned this shop for decades. She knows everyone in Aspen.”
For the first time since she started her search, Caroline felt hopeful.
“Will she be here soon?”
“She’s going to visit her daughter in Denver, she’ll be back after New Year’s.”
“Oh, I see.” Caroline’s face fell.
Caroline would have to wait until New Year’s Eve. But what if Anne’s lover didn’t show up because he hadn’t heard from her?
“Beth might be at the Carpenters’ open house tonight, before going to Denver tomorrow,” the girl volunteered. “You could try her there.”
“The Carpenters?” Caroline repeated, wondering why the name sounded familiar.
“They own one of the Queen Anne mansions on Walnut Street. They hold an open house every year.”
It was Max’s parents’ house! Max had given her the address.
The girl went back to arranging ornaments on the counter. “Wait until you see the houses on Walnut Street. It’s like Disney’s Magic Kingdom during the holidays.”
By the time Caroline returned to the hotel, it was late afternoon. The maids had left a pot of cinnamon tea and a plate of spiced shortbread. She was tempted to call Max and say that she was coming. But she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. The only reason she was going was to talk to Beth.
Then she took out her iPad, and curled up in the armchair, hoping desperately that the next manuscript she clicked on would be the one she couldn’t live without acquiring.
The girl at the gift shop had been right. Every house on Walnut Street was strung with colored lights. Most of them had elaborate displays on the front lawns. At one house, there was a Christmas nativity scene, with three wise men carrying sacks of gold. At another, Santa’s sleigh was pulled by life-size reindeer. The display on Max’s parents’ lawn was the best. A dozen elves wearing red caps worked in Santa’s workshop. There was a model train set, and a conveyor belt for their tools. She took a photo to show Daphne; she’d never seen anything like it before.
Caroline wore a black velvet dress paired with ankle-high boots. This year, the trend at Manhattan holiday parties had been loungewear and plaid. Caroline’s boss, Claudia, wore red silk pajamas to the company Christmas party, and her assistant, Darcy, showed up in a plaid jacket that she never took off. Caroline usually wore the same thing: a variation of the little black cocktail dress with a pair of heels. She learned that from her mother. Anne wasn’t going to spend her commission on a dress that would be out of style by the following Christmas.
But when Caroline peered through the window of Max’s parents’ house, the women were dressed casually in slacks and sweaters. She debated going back to the hotel to change, but the front door was already open.
“Please come in,” a woman greeted her. She was in her mid-thirties, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. She reminded Caroline of Max. Caroline wondered if she was his sister.
“I’m Caroline Holt,” Caroline said, introducing herself. “Max invited me.”
“I’m Helen.” The woman shook her hand. “I’d go and find Max, but my daughter just discovered the punch bowl. Last year, she got a goldfish for Christmas. She’s always wanted another goldfish, I don’t want to remind her.” Helen pointed down the hallway. “Everyone’s in the kitchen. You could look for him there.”
The kitchen was like a scene from one of those Nancy Meyers movies, where the kitchens always had white marble counters, and tile backsplashes, and copper range hoods. People stood around talking about movies and books while someone passed around glasses of wine and tossed the salad.
Caroline had loved watching those movies with her mother and Daphne. Anne and Daphne would drool over the fancy cookware, and Caroline would write down the names of the books that were being discussed.
“Please join us, I’m Pamela.” A woman in her fifties approached her. Her light brown hair was cut to her chin. She had brown eyes and high cheekbones. “There’s still plenty to do. You can cut the bread. It just came out of the oven.”
Caroline was about to introduce herself when Max appeared. He looked even more handsome than the previous day. He wore a wool sweater and navy slacks. His hair was brushed to the side, and he was smiling.
“If you had called, I would have told you the dress code. I’m afraid we’re quite casual,” he said, laughing. “But I’m glad you came.”
Caroline’s cheeks turned red.
“I wasn’t sure until this afternoon that I was coming,” she admitted.
“That dress is much too pretty for my mother to put you to work.” Max took her arm. “Why don’t we get out of here and find you a drink.”
They walked back to the living room, and Max poured two glasses of punch.
“You better check the bowl for a goldfish.” Caroline smiled. She told him about Helen and her daughter.
“Helen is my sister and Lily is my niece,” Max said. “Helen and her husband and Lily live in Los Angeles.”
The living room was furnished in the Queen Anne style. A marble fireplace was protected by an old-fashioned grille, and rose-colored love seats faced a coffee table. In the corner, there was a round table where Caroline imagined women played bridge while they waited for their husbands to return from the mines. The ceiling had an ornate fresco, and the walls were papered with green velvet wallpaper.
“My mother loved old houses,” Caroline reflected. “She was a literary agent, she said every house told a story.”
Caroline realized she hadn’t told Max anything about her mother.
“My mother died two months ago, she’s the reason why I came to Aspen.”
Max handed her a glass of punch.
“I’m very sorry. It sounds like you and your mother had a lot in common,” he said. “When you didn’t call, I thought I’d never see you again.” He nursed his glass. “So, I took Lily’s advice and made a deal with one of Santa Claus’s elves.”
“With an elf?” Caroline repeated, puzzled.
“I said the elf could have all the candy I receive for Christmas, as long as you called.” Max tried to keep a serious expression. “Lily swore that it works. Last year, she gave him her candy and in return she got the goldfish for Christmas.”
“I’m glad I’m as important as the goldfish,” Caroline laughed.
She was about to ask Max more about himself when his mother appeared.
“There you are, I came to apologize. I thought you were a friend of Helen’s and you knew that everyone helps with dinner.” Pamela held out her hand. “I’m Max and Helen’s mother.”
Caroline shook hands. She told Pamela that she was a book editor in New York.
“I can’t live without my books. My husband says we’ll never move from our house in Santa Barbara, because no moving company would transport so many books,” Pamela laughed. “I love my library in this house even more. You’ll have to take a look.”
“My mother is vice-president of the Aspen cultural board and the literary foundation,” Max explained ruefully.
“That’s what’s wonderful about Aspen. Even if you don’t ski, you never run out of things to do,” Pamela continued. “We have author events and music recitals and gallery openings throughout the year.”
Caroline wished she had gone to Aspen with Anne the previous June. They could have visited art galleries, and taken in an outdoor concert. It was suddenly hard to swallow. She missed her mother so much.
“I have to go and check on the pecan pie.” Pamela’s eyes sparkled. “Max hardly ever invites a girl to our open house. I’m very glad you came.”
Pamela drifted off and Caroline and Max were left alone.
“I’d ask if you wanted another drink, but we should wait until dinner,” Max said with a smile.
“Your mother is lovely,” Caroline assured him.
“She is, as long as she’s not trying to marry me off,” Max chuckled. “My sister and her husband have busy careers. It’s up to me to give my mother more grandchildren.”
Anne had never pushed Caroline or Daphne to get married. Daphne dreamed of having three or four children, and a dog. Caroline hadn’t been so sure. She loved her job, and she worried that she wouldn’t give a child enough attention. Lately, she felt so burned out, she didn’t know what she wanted.
“What about you?” Caroline asked Max. “What do you want?”
“I love being an uncle, I see the world through Lily’s eyes. That’s enough for now.” His voice became teasing. “What about you? Is there some fiancé or serious boyfriend waiting in New York?”
Caroline told him about her one-month dating rule.
“So let me get this straight,” Max said. “You get up to thirty days of stimulating conversation and great sex with someone you’re interested in, then you both walk away?”
Caroline blushed. No one had ever put it in those words.
“It’s better than risking a broken heart,” she said stiffly. “What if I put all my energy into a relationship and it doesn’t work out?”
Max gazed at her thoughtfully. He looked so handsome. His shoulders were broad under his sweater, and he had long, muscular legs.
“I see your point. That’s how I’ve felt since I started the distillery.” He nodded. “I’ll do anything to make it a success. Most women wouldn’t understand that.”
Caroline felt a little shiver. It was stronger than she had felt with Brad, and different than she had experienced with Jack. It felt like when the subway stopped abruptly and she had to regain her balance.
“I would understand.” She flashed him a smile. “I feel exactly the same way.”
Dinner was served at round tables set up in the dining room. Caroline was seated next to Helen. They talked about books that Lily loved, and the yoga studio that Helen had opened in Santa Monica.
The meal started with pumpkin soup, followed by sirloin tips and guinea fowl. For vegetarians there was cauliflower steak and potatoes baked in their jackets. Each table had bottles of wine and champagne. The desserts were pecan pie and a fruit loaf served with butter rum ice cream.
Max was seated at another table. Every now and then he glanced over at her. He smiled as if they shared some kind of secret, and she smiled back.
After dinner, everyone moved to the living room for games. Caroline waited for Beth, the owner of the gift shop, but she never arrived.
“I had a lovely time, but I should go,” Caroline said when the guests were beginning to leave.
“I’ll walk back with you to the hotel,” Max offered.
Caroline had drunk three glasses of champagne. She was just tipsy enough to let something happen between them. It had been such a pleasant evening, but she wasn’t ready for things between her and Max to progress further.
“No, thank you, I already called an Uber.” She shook her head.
It had started snowing as the Uber pulled up in front of the Aspen Inn. Couples strolled hand in hand down Main Street, the air smelled of fresh snow. For a moment, she wished she had let Max take her to the inn. They could have gone ice-skating or drunk hot toddies in the lobby. But she didn’t want Max to end up in her hotel room. There would be the usual awkwardness of their first time. Should Max spend the night, and would they have breakfast together? What if he wanted to use her toothbrush, or he could only sleep with the heat on?
She still wasn’t sure she was ready to have a fling. It was better to take things slowly.
She was about to take out her phone to text him that she had gotten there safely when she heard a familiar voice.
Daphne stood on the front steps of the inn. She wore a long green jacket. Her hair was tucked under a wool hat and she wore black gloves.
“You’re here!” Daphne exclaimed. “I’ve been calling your phone for ages.”
Caroline’s mouth dropped open.
“I left my phone in my coat,” Caroline apologized. “What are you doing in Aspen?”
“I’ll tell you, but it’s freezing out here.” Daphne looped her arm through Caroline’s. They entered the lobby. “Luke went to get sandwiches and coffee. We’re so lucky to have gotten a room here. Luke called, and there was a last-minute cancelation. The hotel restaurant is closed and we’re starving. They hardly fed us anything on the plane.”
They sat on chairs in the lobby. Daphne explained that she felt terrible after Caroline left.
“Christmas morning wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t there to open presents,” Daphne said.
“What did Luke say? You were going to spend Christmas week planning the wedding,” Caroline said.
“That’s the thing.” Daphne’s eyes grew bright. “We spent all day yesterday talking about dates and venues. Spring and summer are the restaurant’s busy seasons and I travel for work in the fall. Luke was raised on a farm in Wisconsin. His grandparents are too old to travel, but I doubt my friends would like to attend a wedding there.”
“Weddings can be complicated,” Caroline agreed. “Maybe you and Luke should wait.”
“That’s when it dawned on me,” Daphne continued eagerly. “Why have a big wedding when we can elope instead?”
Caroline’s stomach tightened.
“You eloped?” she repeated.
“I wanted to. I told Luke we could drive to Niagara Falls, it’s magical at this time of year,” Daphne said dreamily. “He convinced me that I couldn’t get married without you.” Her smile widened. “So, we decided we’re going to get married in Aspen on New Year’s Day.”
Caroline’s face paled. Daphne couldn’t get married so soon. Caroline still believed the engagement was rushed, and they should wait. Now she wouldn’t have a chance to change Daphne’s mind.
“You’re going to get married in a week?” Caroline gasped.
“It will be so much fun,” Daphne gushed. “You and I can shop for dresses. I called the hotel in advance, they’re going to make a croquembouche wedding cake. And I found the sweetest church.”
“Are you sure about this?” Caroline asked anxiously.
“Surer than I’ve been about anything.” Daphne nodded. “You’re the one who said Mom would be with me, wherever I got married. But somehow, I feel like she’s here. This is the last place that she was happy.”
Caroline glanced at her sister. They were different in so many ways. Often Daphne seemed young for her age and impulsive, but sometimes she surprised her.
“You’re right,” Caroline admitted, glancing around the lobby. It was so festive and it smelled of nutmeg and cloves. “I think she was happy here too.”