15. Bar
BAR
Morning brought gorgeous, crystalline weather and a picture-perfect white Christmas, glittering through the windows of the honeymoon suite. After the wind had settled down, the snow had continued for a while before tapering off before dawn, and every tree was beautifully dusted with white.
Bar and Joy had a leisurely wake-up and shower, followed by Joy gingerly donning yesterday’s clothes and hurrying down the hall to see if she could duck in and out for a fresh outfit without being caught. Bar, grinning fondly, went downstairs to wait for her in the lobby.
The decorations that he had done last night were still up, although the LED lights had been shut off at some point, and the lobby was flooded with winter sunshine through the big windows. The decorating had been a joint project between Bar and Mauro, who had volunteered the information that they had large totes of decorations in the outbuildings that hadn’t been used yet. Snowflakes dangled from every surface to which they could be attached, and fake snow cascaded over the backs of sofas and armchairs. Frost-encrusted sprays of pine branches decorated any surface left even remotely uncluttered. The lobby resembled an enchanted, snow-covered pine forest that happened to have a Christmas tree in the corner.
It was, Bar thought, distinctly possible he had gone a little overboard, but Joy had clearly liked it, and that was the main thing he really cared about.
Hester came into the lobby from the direction of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She was wearing a festive holiday sweater and plush reindeer antlers which clashed with her scowl.
“You know, I came in here last night and I wondered if Mauro had a bad case of cabin fever and went a little wild with the decorating.” She glanced around at the acres of fake snow spilling across bookcases, shelves, and literally anywhere else Bar had been able to reach. “And then he explained what you were up to, and first of all I thought about going upstairs to teach you some good sense with my broom and bring you down here to clean it up.” She shook her dish towel at him.
“I’ll clean up anything you want me to?—”
“Let me finish. Mauro said that Joy is your mate. Is that right?” She leaned an elbow on the desk and fixed him with a stare.
“Yes,” Bar said, meeting her gaze. Inside him, his dragon seemed to give a happy flutter. He still wasn’t sure if it was real or a figment of his imagination, but it felt real.
“In that case, I hope whatever you were doing here worked.” Her scowl remained, but it seemed to soften a trifle. “And I hope if it did, it caused your heart to grow three sizes, or made Christmas ghosts visit you in the night against my express wishes.”
“Christmas ghosts?” Bar said.
“Don’t ask,” Joy called down from the top of the stairs. “Hester, we’re giving you the land as a Christmas present.”
Bar looked up swiftly, and for a moment she was all he could see, a captivating vision descending the staircase. She was wearing a black sweater decorated with glittering silver stars, and light winked off her matching snowflake earrings. She was a holiday vision. He could happily have unwrapped her like a present right there on the stairs.
Then Hester said, “Could you repeat that?”
“The land,” Joy said. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she moved quickly to put an arm around Bar’s waist. “If it’s still all right?” she asked, looking up at him.
Glints of light off the ceiling full of snowflakes reflected from her eyes like tiny stars. “Anything,” Bar said, falling into those eyes. Recovering somewhat, he added, “I mean. Yes.”
“Then it’s yours,” Joy said, looking at Hester. “Or, more accurately, I believe the price is a dollar, since an outright donation would run into a different set of regulations. We’ll have to get a surveyor up here to properly determine the boundaries. We’re subdividing. Bar and I are keeping the rest—” Here she paused briefly, and Bar, his chest fluttering madly, wondered if it was the Bar and I that had done it to her, the same way it had to him. Clearing her throat, she went on. “But the area around the lodge, the part you’ve been using, will be yours as soon as we can make it legal.”
“I—don’t know what to say.” Hester’s stunned gaze went from Joy to Bar. “Except I feel a little bad about a few things.”
Bar’s stomach growled. He grinned. “Let’s consider bygones to be bygones, if there’s something edible and hot for Christmas breakfast.”
Hester turned with a flourish of her dish towel. “As a matter of fact, there’s an entire Christmas buffet, featuring your baked goods in pride of place. Your sister is already there, Joy.”
Bar tensed a little, but Joy tightened her grip around his waist—very proprietary, he thought. “I can’t wait,” he said, and found himself at least mostly meaning it. If he had won over Hester, Leah couldn’t be that hard.
They went into the dining room. The Christmas buffet looked stunning. It was clear that Hester had been working hard on it. It wasn’t huge or fancy, but the tables—decked with fake snow and pine branches—were lavishly spread with a festive and tasteful display of baked goods, crackers, cheeses, fruit, tiny meats, and other things to nibble on. One table held hot dishes similar to yesterday’s breakfast buffet.
Leah was instantly visible in a stunningly neon green and red Christmas sweater. She was at a table near the window with Doreen and Wick. Bar slowed, but Joy gave him a little tug and he came with grace. This woman was going to be his sister-in-law, and these people were his mate’s friends (his mate!!) and he liked them all, even if they didn’t all like him. He figured he could deal with a few awkward stares and possibly Leah pushing a glass of ice water into his lap. Getting to sit next to Joy was worth it.
But the smile Leah gave him, while perhaps showing a few too many teeth, was a lot friendlier than expected. Doreen and Wick continued to look at him distrustfully.
“Just to get everything out of the way immediately,” Bar said, “Joy owns the lodge’s land now—or she will when offices open again after the holiday— and the lodge is getting it, with my blessing. Christmas is saved, Hallelujah. Let’s hit the buffet.”
While Doreen and Wick simply looked baffled, Leah reached into the giant purse she carried everywhere and took out a box wrapped in blue and silver paper. She shoved it across the table. “I hear you and my sister have Mate Attachment Disorder now,” she said, but the tone was friendly. “Merry Christmas, dumbass.”
Bar picked up the package, stunned. Joy put her hands on her hips and glared at Leah.
“What’s the meaning of this, giving my mate presents? You do realize I don’t have anything for him yet, right? Are you trying to make me look bad?”
“Just getting used to being a supportive sister-in-law,” Leah declared with a glitter in her eyes.
“Bar, I don’t know if you should open that at the table,” Joy said, looking concerned. “Or ever. Maybe we should have the bomb squad open it.”
But Bar was already peeling back the paper. He didn’t want to admit that it was the first Christmas present he had gotten in a long time. His family had stopped celebrating at all once he turned eighteen, but in truth, Christmas hadn’t been any fun for a while before that.
The last good Christmases had been the ones before Mom left—and it had been Christmas when she walked out. Joy had been right that he didn’t like Christmas very much. But he had a feeling that, with Joy and Leah and Joy’s friends around him, that might be about to change.
The paper (slightly crumpled, clearly reused) was wrapped around a small box. Bar opened it. There was just one item inside, rattling around slightly in the empty space. Bar took it out and found that it was a playing card with a knife on it. There was cartoon blood dripping from its edge.
“Leah!” Joy said. To Bar, she said, “That’s a weapon from the murder mystery game we were playing last night. Just for the record, little sisters are the actual worst.”
Leah crossed her arms. Her eyes still glittered with challenge, but Bar, who recognized the signs of a defensive front all too well, thought there was probably a lot of fragility there as well. Leah had had her sister to herself for their entire lives. Now she was going to have to share her.
“Message received, very much in the spirit in which it was given,” Bar said solemnly. He put the card in his wallet, then held out a hand to Leah. “Truce?”
Leah hesitated before giving his hand a brisk shake. Her grip was unexpectedly strong. “Just don’t mess this up, bro.”
“I think,” Bar said, looking at Joy, who gazed at him with the Christmas lights reflecting in her eyes, “that I can’t promise not to do that, but the thing I can promise is that I’ll do my best to fix it, every time.”
“I guess I’ll accept it,” Leah said.
They stuffed themselves at the buffet, and Doreen, Hester, and Leah joined Joy and Bar beside the hearth for a few rounds of Joy’s murder mystery game (minus the knife card, which Bar was keeping, as both the promise and threat that it was). After that, the holiday party broke up and people drifted off to their own rooms, or, in the case of Doreen and Wick, back down the hill to their cabin. They had come up on a snowmobile, and Bar went to the window to watch them take off.
“That’s another thing I wouldn’t mind learning to do,” Joy said, coming up beside him. “It looks fun.”
“I rode one years ago. The lodge might have one we could use.”
“Later, maybe.” Joy leaned against him. “Right now I’m so full you’d have to roll me.”
They had kept a plate of snacks handy during the game. Bar also felt pleasantly sated, his hearty shifter appetite satisfied for once.
“Roll?” he said, pulling her close. “Are you sure you don’t mean tumble?”
“Stop. No tumbling. Even the fun kind. I will probably explode in a very un-fun kind of way.”
Bar laughed and walked with her, arms around each other’s waists, over to the couch in front of the log fire, near the Christmas tree. He started to sit down, then got up again.
“What?” Joy asked.
“I don’t think those were there before.” Bar approached the tree. Among all the decorations, the stars and reindeer and snowmen, there were two envelopes with red bows on them. One had Bar’s name written on it; the other had Joy’s.
Eyebrows raised, Bar detached them and took them over to the couch.
“This wasn’t you, was it?” Joy asked, taking hers with a warm brush of her fingertips.
“No, I swear. I don’t know how they got there. Actually, this reminds me that I don’t have anything to give you—at least not until we get back down the mountain where there are stores. This hotel needs a gift shop.” Bar smiled lopsidedly. “Without that, your options are limited to items of male clothing and slightly used toiletries.”
Joy laughed. “Bar, you gave me a giant piece of a mountainside. What on earth else could you give me that compares with it? I’m the one who’s coming to you empty-handed. I wish I could think of something, but, well—it’s the same problem in reverse. Until we get to a store, I can offer you a completely unworn pencil skirt or a half-used tube of Captivating Coral lipstick.”
Bar touched her chin with his thumb, brushing it across the corner of her mouth. “The coral would be much less captivating on me. Joy, you’ve given me the best Christmas I’ve had in twenty years. You gave me heart, and you gave me hope. It’s tough to put a bow on, but I think I’ll forgive that part.”
“Well, yours wasn’t wrapped at all, you know.”
“What are you talking about?” Bar gestured to indicate the snow outside the window, glittering in the sun. “It’s beautifully wrapped.”
“Excuse me, you’re absolutely right. That is some supremely lovely packaging.” Joy lifted the envelope with her name on it. “Do you think we should find out what Santa left us?”
“After Leah’s gift, I’m almost afraid to.” Bar slid his thumbnail under the flap of his. Joy peeled back hers at the same time.
The envelopes opened to reveal a pair of beautiful Christmas cards. Each was slightly different, and both displayed photos of what was clearly the lodge, but at a different time. On Bar’s, there were old-fashioned gas pumps outside one wing of the lodge, and from the fading and the hand-tinted thick paper, he thought it might be from the 1950s. Joy’s was a bit newer; the gas pumps were gone and the lodge looked more like its contemporary self, although the vintage cars parked out front marked it as perhaps the late 1960s or early ‘70s.
Both of them read MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM HEART MOUNTAIN LODGE!
“I thought it was called Fated Mountain Lodge,” Bar said.
“Hester told me they changed the name when she and Mauro took over managing the place. They wanted shifters to know they were welcome here, even if they couldn’t say it openly. And they felt like it was fate that brought them here.”
There were a few lines written on Bar’s card in a light, loopy handwriting.
Mauro and I found some boxes of these in one of the storerooms. We’re saving them for special guests, but we can’t think of a more special guest than the one who saved the lodge — if only from himself. All is forgiven. Merry Christmas, and we hope you enjoy your stay!
- Hester & Mauro
Joy smiled and showed the inscription on her own card to Bar. Also in Hester’s handwriting, it was similar, but addressed, “To the person who did for us what all the cold rooms and worse food in the world couldn’t do.”
Bar laughed. “I guess I won’t have to worry about frozen veal for the rest of my stay.”
“I don’t know if I’d mind. It was our first date, after all.”
With that, she leaned forward to kiss him. Her mouth tasted like cinnamon and sugar, and the future, and hope.