Chapter 11 MJ
The kitchen had gone quiet at last. MJ wiped her hands on a dishtowel and let out a long breath after a busy day.
Cindy and Jack had gone to town for a late dinner together, so MJ had eaten Red’s chili alone, which was a welcome break. She dealt with a few guest issues, and now, at well past ten, there was peace. And…loneliness.
She waved the towel as if she could use it to swipe away that silly thought. MJ wasn’t lonely. She worked non-stop, had her daughter, grandson, father, sister, and niece within hugging distance most of the time, and her “alone” time was rare.
But it was in those rare windows that she missed George the most.
Tucking the dishtowel over the handle on her oven, she turned and looked at the mudroom ceiling, still dry after Matt had fixed it.
The temporary patch held, but the sight of it filled her with a strange, gnawing frustration that was probably the real source of her discontent. Things falling apart meant…money. And money meant…worry. And worry meant…selling the lodge. And selling meant…
MJ’s life was…over.
“Oh, stop it,” she murmured to herself, rooting deep for the positive attitude that had carried her through every moment in life—her childhood, her marriage, becoming a grandmother, losing her mother.
Even kissing her husband goodbye in a hospital room with a promise to come back in the morning… only to learn he’d died overnight.
Through it all, she believed the cup was half-full, even if it tipped over and spilled sometimes. If they had to sell Snowberry Lodge, she’d still have her family, and, really, what else mattered?
Home, a voice in her head whispered. That’s what mattered. With a sigh, she turned to survey her little kingdom, the kitchen of Snowberry Lodge.
The brass fittings were tarnished, the paint peeling behind the sink. As she crossed to the pantry to return a bag of cocoa powder, MJ’s sharp eye picked out more chips, discoloration, and a slightly crooked cabinet.
Everything was small enough to ignore in isolation, but somehow painted a picture of a world—a life—fraying at the seams.
She stopped in the middle of the room, fighting tears. If this is just the kitchen, she thought, what about the guest rooms? The cabins? The bathrooms?
Cheap repairs. Quick fixes. Band-Aids on problems that needed surgery. The truth was, they were barely keeping up appearances, and they were in a very precarious position.
It wasn’t just the lodge getting old, outdated, and sad. It was…MJ herself.
Walking to the window, she looked at her reflection in the dark glass, not liking what she saw at all. She turned, refusing to go down some sad hole of…of sadness. George always said, “Wallowing won’t fix a thing.”
And right now, a lot of things needed to be fixed.
Just as she stepped into the hall, the front door banged open, letting in a rush of cold mountain air and a chime of laughter.
Cindy and Jack swept inside, cheeks flushed from the cold and a special happiness that MJ hadn’t seen on her sister’s face in a decade. They were arm in arm, heads bent close, laughing softly like teenagers, unaware of her watching them.
MJ smiled despite herself. Gracie had a phrase for this—the love bubble. And these two were smack in the middle of one.
Cindy looked ten years younger these days, her wheat-toned hair loose around her shoulders, her eyes sparkling. Jack’s hand rested possessively at her waist, his grin boyish and unguarded. Watching them like this—rekindled, renewed—lifted her heart.
MJ didn’t need to have that kind of love but, goodness, she was so dang happy that Cindy did.
“Well, don’t you two look like trouble,” MJ teased, folding her arms as they came toward her. “I was beginning to think you’d run off and eloped.”
Jack chuckled. “Not yet. We just got caught up talking after dinner.”
“It’s the most beautiful night in town,” Cindy said, practically cooing the words.
“You know, that lull between Christmas and New Year’s Day, and everyone is relaxed and happy.
Main Street is still shimmering and all the snow globes are lit.
It’s gorgeous.” She looked up at Jack, who gave her a squeeze.
“So are you,” he said, staring at Cindy like he had the day he’d watched her come down the aisle.
MJ’s heart gave a bittersweet twist. She was genuinely joyous for her sister, but the sight stirred something deeper—a whisper of hope she tried to smother.
Maybe life didn’t end at their age. Maybe love wasn’t a closed door after all. Her mind flickered to Matt and the way his deep laugh warmed her. She pushed the thought away before it could take root.
“Hot chocolate?” MJ offered, lifting her chin toward the kitchen. “I was about to have a cup.”
“Only if there are marshmallows,” Jack said, rubbing his hands together.
MJ shot a playful look. “What kind of lodge do you think I’m running? Marshmallows and, if you’ll stoke it, a blazing fire.”
As she headed back into the kitchen, she heard Cindy whisper, “Something’s wrong. She’s got that look.”
Of course her sister could see right through her false brightness.
But she didn’t want to drag this happy couple into her blues. As she finished making the cocoa, she gave herself a little pep talk, ready to keep the conversation light and merry with two of her favorite people on Earth.
But when she walked back into the living room, Cindy’s concern was written all over her face. “Spill it,” she said, accepting the mug. “What’s going on?”
She’d never get anything past her sister, the closest thing she had to a soulmate since George died.
MJ sighed and sank into her favorite armchair near the fire that Jack had brought back to life. The flames painted the room gold, flickering over the worn furniture and family photos.
Yes, she could share some of her concerns. It would be strange if she didn’t.
“It’s just…that leak Matt fixed,” she began. “It’s holding for now, but it made me notice other things and realize…”
“We’re in bad shape,” Cindy said on a sad sigh. “I know.”
“I don’t want to dwell on it, Cin,” she said. “Not now, with you two”—she lifted her mug—“so good again.”
They shared a quick smile, but their expressions grew serious.
“We’re good, not blind,” Cindy said. “We got through the worst of it and are paying the tax bill, but you know what I’ve said for more than a month. We do have”—she glanced at Jack—“another option.”
Did he think they should sell, too? MJ turned to him, holding her breath. Because if he did—
“It’s crazy to even talk about,” he said, swallowing a sip. “You can’t give up Snowberry Lodge.”
MJ huffed out a relieved breath. “Thank you. But we are looking at some major problems that are starting to eat away at me.”
Cindy narrowed her eyes. “Worrying is not like you, MJ. I expect you to see blue skies, not stormy ones.”
“I know.” MJ rubbed her forehead. “But I can’t help it. Everywhere I turn, I see something that needs attention, and it’s like…like I’m standing on a frozen lake, and I can hear the cracks forming under my feet.”
Jack frowned. “Hey, now. Cindy’s right. This isn’t like you at all.”
MJ wrapped her hands around her mug, seeking warmth.
“The thing is, I keep imagining what we could do. We could restore the place while keeping its soul intact. Fresh paint, new fixtures, better insulation. A new bathroom in every cabin, and, of course, the dang roof.” She didn’t dare mention her wedding venue fantasy, not when they had to be down to earth and practical about this.
“Any chance you called the roofer? Matt didn’t like what he saw up there. ”
She nodded. “He’ll be here January second. I’m just praying he says we can go another year or two without a new roof.”
“Or a For Sale sign,” MJ said glumly.
Jack leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Look, you two. There are ways we can get through this. I can help with repairs.”
“It’s not just patching holes and painting walls,” MJ said. “Some of these problems are big—hidden stuff like plumbing, electrical. Expensive things.”
“This place is worth a fortune,” he said. “You could always get an equity loan.”
Cindy and MJ shared a look, this topic well-discussed by them.
“We hate that idea,” Cindy said, speaking for both of them.
“We don’t want to saddle Nicole and Gracie with debt,” MJ said. “If something should happen to us…”
“Nothing will happen,” Jack said confidently, “but I understand the position.”
“And if we did sell?” Cindy looked from one to the other. “Those girls would be set for life.”
Jack nodded. “I get that, but I’m sure they’d rather have Snowberry for another generation than a fat bank account.”
“I know Nicole would,” Cindy said. “But Gracie has a child.”
“Gracie would weep if we lost this place,” MJ said. “But she’d also weep if she owed the bank two hundred thousand dollars and couldn’t pay it back.”
The conversation trailed into silence. The only sound was the crackle of the fire and the faint creak of the old lodge settling for the night.
MJ swallowed the lump in her throat. “I just…I want to believe that we can keep this place going forever. But what if we can’t?”
“We’ll figure it out together,” Cindy said, pushing up. “I need to head home.”
MJ rose to gather the cups. “All right, you two. I’m going to put these in the sink and crash.”
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Jack said to Cindy, “then hit the hay myself. More sleigh rides tomorrow, and I’m as tired as Copper.”
She gave them both a warm hug and carried the cups into the kitchen. She was still thinking about the conversation when she heard a tap on the mudroom door.
This late?
She walked over, kind of hating that she hoped it was Matt. And really hating the dip of disappointment when she opened the door and found Jack.
“Oh, hi. Is everything okay?” she asked.
“So okay,” he said, grinning like a fool. “Never been better, MJ.”
She laughed lightly, ignoring the cold air to just take in the contentment on his face. “Another cocoa?”
“No, but I need a favor,” he said.
“Anything, Jack.”
“Can you organize a New Year’s Eve party here at the lodge? Nothing huge, just the family and close friends. I’d like…to have everyone together.”
She frowned but nodded. “We usually have a gathering on New Year’s Eve. Something special?”
“I’ll say.” He slid into a slow smile, his dark eyes shining. “I’m going to ask Cindy to remarry me.”
She gasped and took a step backward. “Really?”
“I want to ask her right at midnight and start the New Year with her as my fiancée,” he announced, as proud as any young man who planned a proposal.
“Jack,” MJ said with a sigh. “That’s so sweet.”
“And I want the whole family to know how much I love her.”
She pressed a hand to her lips, tears welling. “Of course I’ll arrange it.”
“Thanks, MJ.” He gave her another hug, tight and long. “You’re the best sister. And you’re freezing.”
She inched away from the open door. “But my heart is warm. I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. G’night.”
“Goodnight, Jack.” She closed the door and stood unmoving in the mudroom as his footsteps faded.
Cindy was getting married. Well, remarried. To the only man she’d ever loved.
She leaned against the door, the wood cold through her sweater, trying to understand how she felt.
Overjoyed, of course, for the sister she loved with every cell in her body. Worried, because they had no real solution for their problems. And lonely, which was the one that troubled her the most.
Was she envious of Cindy? No, not MJ. She didn’t have a jealous bone in her body.
She simply felt like she was holding on to everything by a thread…and she was afraid it was going to break. How would she get through this kind of uncertainty?
She had no idea, except that, right now, that loneliness hit harder than ever before.