Chapter Thirteen The Things We Keep
Lucy.
Morning came with the scent of coffee, sawdust, and toast thick in the air.
The house had that comfortable hum it always took on before everyone started talking at once.
I stood at the counter slicing apples while Mom directed traffic from the stove.
Somewhere in the foyer, Dex and Braxton were talking with Dad, their voices low and practical.
The sound made my stomach tighten before I even knew why.
A minute later, Braxton appeared in the doorway with his usual grin. “Ladies, you are looking at two men off to conquer the mountain.”
Mom clapped her hands in delight. “The ski lodge! How wonderful. Perhaps when we have the renovations done, we can do a family outing. What will you be doing there? Skiing, snowboarding, or hiking?”
Dex entered the kitchen, already buttoning his coat. “Carly asked us to look over the expansion plans. They are adding a new wing and a spa. She wants an architect’s opinion before she finalizes anything.”
His tone was even, professional, but the mention of Carly made something in me bristle. I strove and failed for a neutral tone in my reply. “That sounds… productive.”
Mom quickly poured coffee into travel mugs. “Of course you should go. Networking is always wise. Carly is such a lovely young woman.”
Lovely was one word for it. I smiled anyway.”
Braxton winked at Jane, who rolled her eyes but smiled. The Honeymooners, already finishing breakfast, lit up at the mention of the lodge.
“We are skiing there today! Maybe we will see you two,” Kelsy gushed.
“I hope so,” Braxton said cheerfully.
Dex only nodded, his eyes flicking toward me for half a heartbeat before he looked away.
When the door closed behind them, the house fell quiet. Then Mom took off her apron. “Well! If the men are off playing with snow and ski resorts, we shall do something useful. The dining room renovations await.”
Her energy was contagious. Within minutes, the Bennet women had turned the first floor into a construction zone again.
Jane handled sanding duty while Meri measured trim pieces and Lydia filmed, providing commentary about “history revealing itself one dust cloud at a time.
" Eventually Kitty took away her phone and handed her a rag to help stain the freshly uncovered and repaired wood.
Dad pried up the last section of loose flooring near the corner window to repair.
Mom alternated between humming and filling the scars in the wood of the antique table with a woodfiller.
It was almost easy to forget about Dex until Dad’s crowbar made a strange hollow noise.
He tapped again, then carefully lifted a narrow plank.
I paused in my work, watching as he put a hand under the floor boards to pull out a small tin box sealed with wax and tape, edges rusted, and the top dented slightly in the middle.
Helen gasped so hard she nearly dropped her rag. “Oh, my word. Will, that can't be what I think it is.”
Dad looked equally shocked. “No. We put that there before… good grief, how long has it been?”
“Nearly forty years,” she whispered. Her hands trembled as she set her rag down and wiped them on her apron. “We were barely older than Lydia when we buried this.”
We gathered around the table while Dad found a screwdriver to pry the tin open.
The lid gave with a small pop, releasing a faint smell of paper and old cedar.
Inside lay a few treasures wrapped in tissue.
There was a black and white photograph of a couple standing on the porch of the inn, both looking painfully young and shy.
A folded letter was addressed To the Future SnowDrop Owners .
Under that was a brittle newspaper clipping about the inn’s renovation.
Then at the bottom, a single pressed daisy which was brown at the edges but it was otherwise perfectly preserved.
Mom laughed softly, eyes shining. “We were ridiculous."
She unfolded the letter and began to read aloud.
“We sealed this under the floor in case we ever forget how it started. We met here when the SnowDrop smelled of pine and paint, and we were both too proud to admit we were in love. Whoever finds this, may your walls hold warmth and your work hold joy.”
“That was you in the photo?” Kitty asked.
“It is,” Dad agreed with a soft smile.
“This is where we fell in love,” Mom revealed as she gave Dad a kiss on the cheek.
“After a few misunderstandings and arguments,” Dad pointed out.
“True. What good love doesn’t have those moments? It's getting through them that makes the relationship stronger. We have a strong love,” Mom declared.
No one spoke for a moment. Jane sniffed, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.
They told us how they had met during that renovation.
Mom worked the front desk after school, and Dad helped do repairs with his father who was a local handyman.
She spilled varnish, he helped her clean it, and they argued for a week afterward about who had ruined whose shoes.
Then came the Christmas Dance, a power outage, and a conversation by flashlight that lasted until dawn.
“By the end of it I knew he was the one,” Mom murmured.
Dad looked at her with a soft smile. It was incredibly sweet.
We spent the rest of the afternoon polishing the uncovered wood. The wainscoting gleamed like honey under the light. Everything smelled of varnish and lemon oil when we were finished.
Every so often, I caught myself glancing at the clock.
The hours moved faster when I stayed busy, but part of me counted them anyway.
It was ridiculous to worry. Dex was perfectly capable, and Carly’s intentions were none of my business.
Dex was really none of my business. I wasn’t going back to work for him in the city, nor would he stay here at the inn.
He had a life, a career that he and Braxton had built.
Dex wasn’t going to throw that all away for a girl with a crazy family and a crazier dream.
Nor should I care if he decided to spend time with Carly.
We weren’t in a relationship. I wasn’t even certain if we were friends.
By late afternoon, the honeymooners returned rosy-cheeked from skiing, carrying a souvenir snow globe. “The lodge is gorgeous, but it feels like it was designed for a magazine instead of people.”
“That sounds about right,” I muttered before I could stop myself. The way Carly hadn't so subtly insulted the inn and the aesthetics here, I knew she wasn’t a person who appreciated older architecture.
Kelsy laughed, unaware. “Carly insisted that Dex and Braxton stay the night since the roads were icy.”
“We found the roads to be okay, but I’ve done a lot of winter driving,” Ed said.
I gave a tight smile.
“You should only drive what you feel comfortable driving,” Mom agreed, pouring cocoa for everyone.
Jane met my eyes over her mug, her expression sympathetic.
We didn’t talk about it. The rest of the evening flowed around us with Mom discussing menus, Meri checking the heating vents, Lydia uploading her latest video titled Love Under the Floorboards.
I let the noise wash over me until finally everyone headed for their beds.
“Are you going to stay up for a little while?” Jane asked.
“I won’t be too long,” I assured her. I just needed some time alone to think and it was quiet downstairs. I wandered through the rooms feeling restless. We were making progress. We had a real chance at success here.
Why wasn’t I more happy about it?
In the dining room, the tin box sat on the table beside a lamp, its metal sides reflecting soft light.
I brushed a thumb over the daisy, the petals fragile under my touch.
My parents had left their beginning here, hidden under a floorboard like a secret.
Maybe love always left something behind, even when people didn’t mean to.
My cellphone rang just as I replaced the lid. The sound startled me. It was late, the kind of hour when calls rarely brought good news. I pulled the phone out of my back pocket to see Dex’s name glowing on the screen. I hesitated a moment before answering.
“Hello?”
His voice was low, roughened by distance and cold air. “We are staying overnight. The roads iced up faster than expected. Carly offered rooms at the lodge.”
“Of course she did." The words came out sharper than I meant. I forced a lighter tone. “That’s probably for the best.”
“I wanted you to know so you wouldn’t worry.”
“I wasn’t worried.”
Silence followed, heavy and full of things unsaid. I could almost hear the quiet behind him, the muted luxury of the lodge, maybe Carly’s voice somewhere in the background.
“All right,” he said finally. “We will drive back in the morning. Sleep well, Lucy.”
“You too,” I said, but he had already hung up.
I set the phone down and pressed my palms to the table until the wood grain imprinted against my skin. The only sound was the wind pressing against the windows. He wasn't mine to miss, and yet my chest ached like something had been borrowed and might not be returned.