Chapter 6 Red
Red knew better than to go for thirds. He knew it right around the time he went for seconds, honestly.
But MJ’s rosemary beef stew had been bubbling on the stove all afternoon, and by the time he’d torn into his second hunk of crusty sourdough, slathered with whipped garlic butter, he’d already lost the will to resist.
Now he was stuffed like a Christmas goose and trying not to groan in front of his daughters, granddaughters, great-grandson, and the man he used to call son-in-law…back when he liked him.
“Well, that might be the best thing I’ve eaten since your mother’s beef bourguignon,” he declared, leaning back in the head chair at the long pine kitchen table.
MJ beamed across the table, her cheeks flushed from the compliment—or maybe just the heat from the oven. “That’s high praise, Dad.”
Red didn’t respond. He just reached for his water glass and caught Jack glancing at Cindy. Looking at her like…like he shouldn’t have left.
Well, I coulda told you that ten years ago, ya big lug nut.
Cindy was quieter than usual, probably still in shock that Nicole had gone to Vermont, come home five days early and brought…baggage.
Red tried to keep his face neutral as he secretly studied his former son-in-law.
Jack had aged, sure—salt in his hair, some creases around his once-boyish grin. But there was still that glimmer of charm and that casual confidence that came with a childhood of winning and a decade or so in front of the cameras.
Jack had always been the kind of man who could talk a bear out of its salmon. And, once upon a time, Red had admired that about him. Now Red just couldn’t forgive the other man for what he’d put Cindy—and Nicole—through.
With a satisfied sigh, Jack folded his napkin next to his plate. “Still can’t beat a good family dinner,” he said with the easy tone of someone trying too hard not to make waves. “Thank you, MJ.”
“You can’t be done yet, Uncle Jack,” Gracie said. “I brought home a mountain of macaroons.”
Benny snickered. “Macaroon mountain. Sounds like a new trail at Deer Valley.”
“And speaking of DV trails,” Jack said, leaning in and looking at Nicole. “Do they know?”
“Know what?” Cindy asked.
Nicole gave a tight smile. “I, um, agreed to hit the slopes with Dad tomorrow morning.”
For a moment, no one said a word. There was nothing but shocked silence until Nicole gave a dry laugh. “So apparently pigs can fly.”
“No, but Jack Kessler can,” MJ said, beaming at him. “Good for you, Nic. I, for one, think it’s a great idea.”
But Cindy looked stunned. “Are you sure, honey?”
“No,” she admitted on a chuckle. “But…the man drives a hard bargain, and I couldn’t say no.”
Really? Red sat up a little. She’d been saying “no” to skiing ever since that day she went down a tree well and darn near never came up again. Just thinking about how they’d almost lost little Nicole in one of the deep, hidden holes that form in the snow under conifers made him shudder.
“I’m surprised, that’s all,” Cindy said, reaching down to pull her phone from her pocket. “Oh, excuse me,” she said, glancing at the screen. “This is the reservation line.”
She got up to slip into her office around the corner and MJ immediately stood to start cleaning up.
“Let us help, Mom,” Gracie said.
“Absolutely,” Jack agreed, getting up. “I have to move before climbing Mount Macaroon.”
When the four of them left the table, Benny plowed a bony elbow into Red’s arm. “Gimme your phone,” he demanded in a whisper. “Quick, quick.”
Red reached behind him on the windowsill where he’d left it, handing it to the boy with a warning eye, whispering, “You should tell your mother what you’re doing.”
“What we’re doing, Grandpa. And I can’t because she will have a cow. Look! We have five thousand followers!” He tapped the screen and grinned up. “Five thousand and thirty. Do you know what that means?”
“I have no idea what any of this means,” he admitted.
Cindy burst back into the room, holding her own phone like it was a golden ticket. “Guess what? We just booked two of the cabins for Christmas week!”
Everyone stopped talking.
“Really?” Gracie asked, turning off the running water.
“Two full week stays,” Cindy said, practically dancing. “Someone named Bryant from Ogden and another family from Washington State. Said they saw Snowberry Lodge on social media and just had to spend Christmas here.”
Red raised his eyebrows. “On social media?”
“I bet it’s the sleigh!” Nicole exclaimed. “Bri told me that since we dragged it out there, all the ski shed customers are taking pictures on it.”
Red glanced down at Benny, who was practically vibrating, and gave the kid a secret wink.
Benny nearly fell off his chair as he fluttered his little feet with uncontained excitement.
“Are you all right, honey?” Gracie asked, coming around the large island. “Do you have to…” She didn’t finish but lifted her brows.
“He’s potty trained, for heaven’s sake,” Red said. “He’s just excited.”
“About what?”
“These reservations,” Red told her. “Right, Benny-bean?”
Benny just nodded, no doubt because he knew—they both knew—exactly where those two reservations had come from. Hashtag Ho Ho Ho.
“I’m excited, too, Benny!” Cindy exclaimed. “I mean, I know it’s just two, but I don’t know. I feel…optimistic.”
As they all chattered about it, Benny leaned closer. “Come on, Grandpa. Let’s sneak out and do one more. We gotta strike while we’re trending.”
“We’re what?”
“I mean, not really trending,” Benny continued in a whisper. “But I have an idea for the sleigh again. You can talk and I’ll edit it all together in CapCut.”
Red rubbed his temple. “Cap-what?”
“Please, while my mom is busy.”
Red nodded and stood, taking his plate to the sink. “Benny and I are going to make sure all the lights are working on the sleigh,” he said. “Since it seems to be doin’ its job.”
They stepped into the chilly night, the snow falling gently over the trees like powdered sugar on cupcakes. The sleigh sat under a canvas tarp, but Benny pulled it off, then did something on Red’s phone and suddenly the fairy lights glowed on the rails.
How did he…
Benny snagged the Santa hat from the back and flipped it to Red. “Wardrobe, please.”
Muttering under his breath, Red tugged it over his bald head.
“You ready?” Benny asked.
“Born ready.”
“Okay, this one’s called Grumpy Santa Won’t Come Inside. You just sit in the sleigh and grumble about not coming in until there’s peace on Earth.”
Red blinked. “That’s kind of political.”
“It’s festive,” Benny corrected.
Before Red could respond, the side door creaked open and Jack stepped out, pulling on his coat.
“Evening,” Jack said, approaching cautiously. “Since I’m so involved in the sleigh, I thought I’d join you two.”
Red looked at Benny, who shrugged and nodded.
“Only if you can keep a secret,” Red said. “Benny’s breakin’ house rules for the good of mankind.”
“And for a puppy that Aunt Cindy promised to get me!”
Jack frowned, coming closer. “Come again?”
“TikTok,” Benny said, scrambling down from the sleigh and holding out his phone. “Do you know what that is, Uncle Jack?”
He chuckled. “Yes. I’m old, not dead.”
“’Cause Grandpa didn’t.”
“Well, I’m closer to dead,” Red said wryly. “Just tell him, Benny.”
Benny held out the phone and spewed a long story about followers and hashtags and trending. And a promised puppy.
Jack didn’t really respond until he clicked through a few of Benny’s little masterpieces, smiling, then chuckling, and finally laughing out loud.
“The Santa who’s had enough of Christmas.” He shook his head and grinned at Benny, then Red. “This is brilliant. Why are you keeping it a secret?”
“I’m not supposed to know how to use any of it,” Benny said. “I don’t have a phone. And my mom will kill me, not give me any presents, and I want that puppy.”
Jack’s shoulders moved in a soft laugh. “If technology doesn’t work out, Ben, you can be a lawyer. Also, not giving you a phone is like not giving Einstein a slide rule.”
“But it’s a rule and I’m breaking it. Please don’t tell anyone. Please.”
“I’ll keep your secret.”
“Thanks,” Red said. “’Cause it appears to be working.”
“Oh, you’re the social media that got the reservations,” he said, his eyes flickering. “That’s awesome. Way to go, Grumpy. And…Steven Spielberg, Jr.”
“Who’s that?” Benny asked.
“Doesn’t matter, but I’d love to help,” Jack said. “Why don’t we do one tomorrow with me in that old carriage driving costume? I assume you still have that getup that makes me look like I stepped out of a Charles Dickens novel?”
“I think so,” Benny said. “Would it be in a box with a big, tall black hat?”
Jack made a face. “I look ridiculous in that thing but, yes, that’s my carriage gear.”
“Cool,” Benny said. “Now I’m going to go over there and start recording. Grandpa, you know what to do. Jack, cover for us if my mom comes out.”
He and Red shared a look, then both nodded. When Benny scrambled away, Jack turned to Red. “Good thing you’re doing with this kid, Red.”
Red put his hand on the side of the sleigh. “Good thing you’re giving up your Christmas to help us.”
Jack nodded, silently, then added, “I admit, I get the feeling you aren’t overjoyed to see me.”
“’Cause I’m not.” He struggled to climb up, and Jack gave him a gentle hand and helped him onto the front bench, Red landing on the leather with a grunt. “But now you’re here.”
“I have to be back in Vermont for Christmas Day,” he said, looking up at Red.
“Huh.” Red said. “Just like old times.”
Jack grimaced. “Look, I want to help the lodge. I want to—”
“Okay, Grandpa—ready? Look annoyed.”
He glanced at Jack. “That’s not hard.”
“That’s not the line, Grandpa!”
Jack stepped back and Red muttered, “You people owe me hazard pay.”
“Rolling!”
Red looked angrily into the night air. “I’m not comin’ in until someone brings me a cookie the size of my face.”
Jack cracked up but Red stayed in character, holding his scowliest face—and God had given him plenty of those.
Benny, the evil genius, had Red do the whole thing three more times after Jack whispered that he’d be right back. A minute later, he returned with a couple of Gracie’s cookies, one of which Benny filmed so close he had to have gotten sugar on the phone.
He made Red put one on his nose, hold one next to his face, and juggle them. He dropped two just as the door opened and Gracie called for Benny to come in so they could head home up the hill.
“Where you staying?” Red asked Jack.
“For now, MJ put me in Cabin One, but with what you two are doing? I’ll probably end up crashing on Nicole’s sofa because Snowberry’ll be booked.”
“From your lips,” he said, slowly climbing down from the sleigh.
Benny had gone inside and the two of them stood in the snowy silence for a moment.
Jack cleared his throat. “Look, Red. I know I don’t deserve much. Probably don’t deserve this second chance at being nearby. But I have a lot of making up to do and I’m hoping to help.”
Red didn’t say a word. How could he? He had ten years of anger built up against this man.
“You, uh, still hate me, huh?” Jack asked.
Red laughed at the candor. “Li’l bit. But that doesn’t make you special. I hate everybody.” He added a wink. “Why do you think they call me Grumpy Santa?”
With that, he headed back inside, not yet ready to forgive, forget, or let Jack Kessler off the hook.