Chapter 3 #2
The large rust-toned velvet sectional sofa called her name, so she found herself the prime position in one corner and stretched out her legs in front of her.
She grabbed a knitted, cream wool throw blanket from the back of the sofa and spread it across her lap, enjoying the feeling of tucking herself in, snug and warm.
This was why she’d come here. To feel cosy. Safe.
Deanna stared into the fire. The flames leapt and danced, copper and gold, then a touch of blue at the base of the hearth. The heat warmed her skin even from across the room. She touched her cheeks and found them warm, in contrast to how chilled she’d been a short time ago.
Then a clatter alerted her to Cal coming back through the door, backing his way into the room while carrying three plates at once. One was tipping precariously until he caught it. He didn’t seem to be an experienced server.
“Do you need a hand?”
He awkwardly pushed the door open with one shoulder as he made his way through. “I probably need three hands, but you stay there.”
In a moment he set down the plates on the low coffee table in front of her. There were layered sandwiches with a variety of fillings. Ham, chicken, cheese, and lettuce were poking out, and there was a separate plate of slices of iced chocolate cake.
Deanna sighed, mainly in gratitude. “Oh, this looks good. I really am starving. I haven’t eaten since the plane from London. That was…I don’t know when. Hours and hours ago.”
Cal stood in front of them, scratching his stubble-covered jaw for a second. “Please, help yourself. Wait, I forgot our drinks. I could grab a glass of wine, or something stronger?”
Deanna nodded, even as she stuffed a ham and pickle sandwich in her mouth.
He strode across to a liquor cabinet against one wall. “Whiskey, vodka, or red wine. What do you prefer?”
“Oh, wine please. There’s something about red wine by a fire… It just seems like Christmas.”
Cal fussed with getting wine glasses down from a shelf, uncorking a bottle of what looked like vintage wine, before turning to her. “Isn’t it hot in Australia at Christmas? You wouldn’t drink red wine or have a fire, surely?”
“True. But it’s been years since I had an Aussie Christmas. I mostly visited my mum in London or some friends in New York. But at my aunt’s back in Sydney, it was always cold ham and prawns, salads and champagne. Swimming in the pool after lunch.”
“That sounds nice. Relaxed.”
Deanna nodded, then sat back in her seat and chewed her second sandwich, roast chicken and lettuce, before noticing the small Christmas tree to the left of the entrance area.
It was a real tree, or rather a branch in a planter box with a few red and silver baubles hanging from it.
It wasn’t large considering the size of the room.
There were a few half-hearted bits of silver tinsel along the top of the television, closer to where she was seated.
“You don’t have a lot of decorations up. Don’t you celebrate Christmas?”
With a shrug, Cal poured a glass of wine for her. “Not really. At least, not since my dad passed a couple of years ago. I suppose I would have decorated properly if we’d been open this week.”
Cal walked back towards her with two glasses of wine, then sat diagonally from her, on the chaise part of the sofa. He placed her glass in front of her, sat back and took a sip from his glass. All while keeping his eyes on her.
“I was sorry to hear about your mother’s passing. My mum told me she was ill a few months back.”
Deanna blinked back the hot prickle of emotion, never too far from the surface. “Thank you. I…miss her so much. I got the flowers your mother sent, and I’m going to try to visit her soon. She said in her note that she didn’t hear about the funeral in time to come over to London.”
Cal ran a hand through the wavy hair hanging over his forehead. “She doesn’t like to travel as much these days. She and her new husband, Victor, usually stay close to home. He’s a little older and has low vision.”
Cal chewed on a sandwich for a while, before clearing his throat.
“So, I didn’t know Maddy still had a share of the lodge.
My father hadn’t mentioned it to me and in his will, he had an investor listed – some company named MMP.
I haven’t had the time to thoroughly check all the paperwork he left me.
I just kept things going, or I tried to.
Anyway, a lawyer contacted me after your mother passed. ”
Deanna grabbed her wine and took a gulp. The fruity, full flavour coated her tongue. “MMP is Mum’s company. Maddy Michaelson Photography. At least, it was her company. Talking about my mother in the past tense seems so strange. I don’t want to be rude, but can we talk about something else?”
Cal frowned, his dark eyes sparkling. “Of course.” He seemed to have frozen mid-gesture, wine glass in hand. “Did you want to try calling someone? A friend? Boyfriend? Cell phone coverage is patchy out here during storms but we have a landline that should work.”
Deanna placed her wine back down on the table. “Oh, yes. I should call my best friend, Ella, in London. I forgot to tell her where I was going. I should let her know I’m okay. I’ll message my aunt later. No one else to tell, really.”
She’d forgotten about everything, except getting out of town, and not staying in London for a minute longer than necessary after the will reading. It was sad that no-one but Ella would miss her this Christmas.
Cal’s tense expression had shifted to something more friendly. “I see. Well, the phone’s in my office, at the end of the corridor to the left of the fireplace. You can use it anytime.”
Of course. He probably wanted to know if she planned on staying but would like her gone as soon as possible.
No doubt he was worried she’d want to cash in her share of the lodge and ruin his business.
She hadn’t thought about any of that before showing up on his doorstep without warning. All she wanted was a little rest.
She picked up her wine and stood up, placing the throw blanket back on the sofa. “I’ll go call Ella, then I might have an early night. I’m pretty worn out.”
Cal nodded, his expression melting. She was becoming all too familiar with that look. Something beneath her ribs squeezed tight at the almost-comforting thought that Cal understood what she was going through. Even though she wouldn’t wish this loss on anyone.
Deanna sat behind Cal’s sturdy pine desk, swinging from side to side on a swivel chair. The receiver of the old beige landline phone was pressed to her ear. Ella was apparently pleased to hear from her, but also extremely worried about everything.
“Oh my goodness, you’re where? And with who?
And what did you say about a snowstorm?” Ella spoke in rapid-fire sentences at the best of times, but when she was excited, it was so speedy that sometimes the words blew past Deanna’s brain like a mini tornado.
So, it was hard to follow what Ella was saying.
“I’m in a lodge in the Adirondacks, a mountain-y area in upstate New York. Near Canada.”
Ella continued her rant in Deanna’s ear. “Out in the back of beyond USA, with a man you don't even know, who could be a terrorist or a serial killer. And a storm coming and maybe power outages and… Did you even pack your good coat?”
A laugh rose from Deanna’s belly. “Wow, I’m fine. And yes, Mum, I packed my good coat.” Then they both went silent, because Deanna had mentioned the word ‘mum’.
“Sorry. I was worried. I texted you about twenty times when I didn’t hear from you about the Christmas Eve party at Michaela’s.”
Deanna twisted the spiral cord of the phone around her fingers. “Oh, I totally forgot about that, but I wasn’t going anyway. I can’t deal with so many people at the moment.”
“Yeah, it’s a crush at Michaela’s place. Is that why you flew off to the wilderness? To get away from people?”
“Well, partly. I also visited here with my mum when I was a kid and had a great time. She left me a share in the lodge, so I wanted to see it again.”
“Oh. Now I feel like an arse because you’re on an important grief mission and I yelled at you.”
A grief mission. Strange as that sounded, Deanna thought that’s exactly what it was. A compulsion had come over her to complete her mission, to get to the lodge, to feel closer to her mother, or get some clarity about her next steps. She couldn’t say exactly how she would know if she succeeded.
Deanna sighed, loud enough for Ella to hear. “You’re not an arse. You’re the bestest bestie in the whole world.”
“Right back at ya, babe. New York won’t know what hit ‘em.”
Ella’s fake American accent always made Deanna laugh. This time, she raised a slight giggle.
“I’m going to try to get some sleep. I haven’t had a chance to look at my cabin yet but I’m sure it’ll be nice and cosy.”
“Alright then. Call me soon.”
“Will do.”
Deanna hung up the phone on the receiver with a satisfying clunk. She pushed herself out of the office chair and was about to walk out of Cal’s office, when she spotted a framed photo on the wall by the door.
It was her mother, Maddy, in the middle of a group of people. Judging by their clothes, it was the early ’90s, maybe before Deanna was born. Her mum had her hair cut in a short bob and wore a baggy blazer and jeans.
She was with two men and another woman standing outside with pine trees and a mountain view in the background.
One man, with a stocky build and a ginger beard, was towering over her – Cal’s father – and the other man was someone she recognised only from photo albums. Tall and dark-haired with the charming smile of a friendly, loving man.
It was her own father, Raphael. Before his untimely heart attack.
Then there was the other woman in the photo.
She knew it was Priya from her stunning, wide smile.
She was gorgeous, even with her long hair teased on top, the rest thrown over one shoulder.
She held a baby on her hip. The little boy was serious looking, and his thatch of dark hair was cut in a severe style, straight across his forehead.
Little Cal was cute, and an almost exact miniature of the man he was now.
Deanna smiled as she patted her mother’s face in the photo. “Nice to see you, Mum.”
Then she headed out to ask Cal for the key to her cabin.