Читать книгу The Mills & Boon Ultimate Christmas Collection - Мишель Смарт, Kate Hardy - Страница 31

Chapter Eighteen

“Wake up! Wake up!” I dashed into Amory’s suite and shook her awake.

“Oh my God, you witch,” she groaned and pulled a pillow across her face. Amory was a fan of late nights and long sleep-ins, and generally needed two extra-shot lattes before she could converse with any sort of sense, but I’d grown to love the early mornings at Cedarwood, and was forcibly making her wake up and see what she was missing out on.

Seeing the sunrise so spectacularly above the mountain range, brightening the murky winter dawns, was something else – a glorious way to start the day and, much as she complained, Amory was slowly coming round to the routine too. I blamed Kai for my sudden need to be at one with nature… It was all his fault, showing me the beauty of a new dawn. God, I missed his Zen face, his presence around the lodge.

Today my aunt was joining us for breakfast to discuss her part in the expo and was waiting downstairs. Everyone in the baking business seemed to thrive on being up before the sun and my aunt was no different, arriving on our doorstep laden with boxes filled with tasty donut treats. The only problem was that Aunt Bessie wouldn’t let me open them until Amory had joined us. Damn it.

As I glanced around Amory’s room, it looked like she’d been burgled, the room ransacked. Clothes were draped over every surface, makeup was scattered over the desk and the top of the chest of drawers, and strewn high heels were death traps waiting for her to trip over.

“This room is a disgrace!” I picked up clothes, making a pile on the end of the bed. She had no respect for her things, mostly designer labels, and they were tossed on the floor like she thought nothing of them.

“Yes, Mom.” She saluted with her eyes firmly closed. “I’ll change my wicked ways when I’m dead.”

“I can’t actually be in here without tidying up. Maybe I’m more like my mom than I thought. Or maybe it’s just that you’re like a messy teenager and anyone would tidy lest they trip and fall out the window. Death by mess,” I joked. Again, this was where we differed. I liked things neat and orderly, and Amory was more chaotic. I lined up her heels in the cupboard and folded her clothes away as I waited for her to wake up a little more before I accosted her again. “You’ll thank me when you don’t wear odd shoes by mistake. Seriously, how can you find anything?” For someone so put together, she was a closet slob.

“Listen, fun police, stop whining and tell me what time it is?” She rolled to her side, and finally opened her eyes.

“Six-thirty. Time enough to trudge up the mountain and take in the sunrise…” I hid a smile, knowing there was no way I’d ever go all the way back up that mountain without Kai forcing me. I missed him, and his philosophy, even if it meant exercise was involved. And there was no way Amory would either unless she needed to get signal on her phone.

“The only thing I climb is the corporate ladder, so get out, unless you have coffee!”

I went to the bedside where I’d left a cup of steaming coffee, and brandished it to Her Majesty. She swiped it like I knew she would, and I laughed as she practically inhaled it in one gulp. “And… it’s your lucky day. Aunt Bessie is here, and with her are some truly delectable donuts, so if you hurry there may be a couple left. But only if you hurry.”

“Please tell me she has those cookies-and-cream donuts?” Amory said as she ripped the covers back. I had taken Amory to Puft the first morning she was in Evergreen and ever since she’d been obsessed with the party-in-your-mouth morsels.

“I can’t say what flavor, you’ll have to drag your sorry self downstairs.”

With my aunt visiting so early to chat about work it brought forward the pre-event buzz; I was a little hyper with excitement. I raced back downstairs to the warmth of the kitchen where she sat cradling a cup of coffee and munching her way through an almond cronut, her latest venture, a croissant-donut hybrid that sold out as quickly as she could bake them.

She flashed me a grin. “Did you convince her?”

“I think you convinced her. When she heard the word ‘donut’ things suddenly changed, and the coffee definitely helped.”

Aunt Bessie laughed, and yet her face didn’t wrinkle at all. Even at such an ungodly hour of the morning she was fully made up, her bleached-blonde hair set, and her body encased in her signature form-fitting ensemble. She was a breath of fresh air, and glamorous to boot.

I plucked a cronut from the pile, and bit into the pillowy softness. Between mouthfuls I said, “You all set for the expo? Do you need a hand with anything?”

“Nope, I’m all set. I’ve got my neighbor Miranda coming in to help me bake and a whole host of ideas for recreating those stuffy wedding cakes into delectable donut towers. Now, down to business. You know how glamorous dessert buffet tables can look? Well, I’m thinking of doing one of those. It’s going to look spectacular. From Boston cremes, to French cullers, candy-cane flavored, and gingerbread custard, I’ll have every base covered. Donuts can be gourmet, you know, and this is my chance to prove it.”

“I know,” I said, hiding a smile at her suddenly solemn tone. My aunt took her donuts very seriously indeed, and I knew the idea of a donut buffet instead of a formal dessert would be tempting for our brides-to-be. Everyone wanted something different and donuts were making a comeback; better, bigger and bolder than ever in the foodie world. Especially the creative samples my aunt baked. They were more like art on a plate, or in some cases on a milkshake – where she stacked donuts on top, layered with whipped cream and custard, and candyfloss to finish. Using vibrant icing, it was a kaleidoscope of colors, flavors and textures. “Sounds like you have everything under control, Aunt Bessie.”

The water pipes rattled upstairs, the usual accompaniment to Amory’s morning shower and a sign I had my aunt alone for a few more minutes, at least.

I stood to refill our coffee cups and smiled. It was a comfort to have family around again. I’d missed it in New York. Mom hadn’t visited me there, and Aunt Bessie had only come once, claiming the crush of people made her nervous. The big city was a huge culture shock when you came from a town as small as Evergreen.

Returning to my seat I reached out for her hand, “Thank you so much for helping out with the expo. I really appreciate all the time and effort you’ve had to put in. It means a lot to me.”

Lifting a shoulder, Aunt Bessie squeezed my hand. “Well, of course… what’s family for?”

Speaking of which… “Have you spoken to Mom lately?” I asked, hesitant to bring it up, but knowing I didn’t have a choice if I wanted some answers. Aunt Bessie read Mom’s moods better than anyone, and I knew they confided in one another.

My aunt’s eyes shadowed. “Yeah, she told me you’ve been visiting. You’re a good girl for that, Clio. I know it’s not easy.”

“I wish she’d respond to me. Talk to me, and not just because she has to.” I struggled to find the words. “I feel like, since coming home, she’s even further away from me. I don’t know how to bridge the gap.”

Her face fell, and all at once she looked every inch her age, as if the constant worrying about Mom pulled her down. “I shouldn’t have forced her to come to Cedarwood to help out that day,” she said, shame coloring her cheeks pink. “I had no idea it would be that difficult for her after all this time. I honestly thought it would be some sort of closure for her. That she’d see how much you’ve done with this place, that it was different now. But obviously she could only see it as it was back then. And those ghosts, they haunt her.”

“What’s with this running loop of secrecy about Cedarwood? Honestly, Aunt Bessie, I can’t be much help if I don’t know.” Aunt Bessie was usually as straightforward as they came, but in this, she was a trapdoor, refusing to budge.

As usual the question was evaded. “She loves you, Clio, you know that, right?”

I nodded bleakly. Mom loved me as much as a houseplant as far as I could tell. “She does, trust me, that’s why she’s scared.” Aunt Bessie slid her gaze away and dusted crumbs from the table into her palm.

No matter how old I got, I still pined for that mother-daughter relationship, knowing it’d probably never come to be. Still, I had Aunt Bessie, who was a wonderful, vivacious woman and mother-by-proxy in times like this.

Aunt Bessie played with the handle of her mug. “If only you knew her the way I do, the way I did. Some people are built differently, and a mistake can push them over the edge. She’s spent this whole time clawing her way back up. There were times I didn’t think she’d get there. So, please be patient. Better we have her like this than not at all.”

Shivers coursed through me. I knew exactly what Aunt Bessie meant, and that was my biggest fear. That one day the business of living would all get too much for Mom. “Can’t you just tell me, Aunt Bessie? What happened to her at Cedarwood? Maybe I can help.”

She lifted her palms. “That’s for her to tell you, baby girl. It really is. I’d love nothing more than to explain it to you so you understand, but I promised her, just like you did about keeping the maze secret.”

Part of me realized that they’d kept the secret for good reason, and unearthing it could send my mom toppling back down the rabbit hole, but I just couldn’t let it go. Who would I tell anyway? Surely they could trust me, of all people? It seemed half the town knew, so why not me? It hurt, not knowing.

“Was Dad involved?”

She shook her head. “No, honey, he wasn’t in her life at that point. But in my opinion I think he rescued her from herself, and when he died, well… it started over again.”

I only had blurry recollections of the man, a big, ruddy-faced guy with an amiable smile who’d died when I was a child. I’d have given anything to remember him better, to have five more minutes with him. But I guess you couldn’t wish a person back just because you needed them. Aunt Bessie moved to hug me tight, as if letting me know I could always come to her. At least we had each other and, between us, could help Mom navigate the next part of her life. The part where I was in it.

In a cloud of spicy-scented perfume, Amory entered the kitchen, her hair a tangle of wet curls. “Morning, again,” she threw me a faux-dark look. “Aunt Bessie!” she exclaimed, kissing her on the cheek before her gaze darted to the pile of donuts on the table.

“Perhaps we can trudge up that mountain after all? Do a spot of midnight yoga?” she asked me sweetly.

Aunt Bessie and I caught each other’s eye and laughed. “Just eat the damn donuts.”

Amory let out a sigh of longing. “I’m so used to saying no. No sugar. No carbs. No…”

“No fun stuff.” Aunt Bessie lifted the plate of donuts and held them in front of Amory’s nose. “Don’t let anyone tell you no. These are artisanal donuts and I don’t like to see them go to waste.”

Amory raised a brow. “Well, in that case, I’ll have two. It’s not like I’m a swimsuit model, is it?”

The Manhattanite in Amory was fast disappearing. Before she’d have only taken a great big sniff of the donuts, and eaten air instead. Away from that fast-paced lifestyle it seemed almost criminal the amount of restrictions we had placed on ourselves. Life at Cedarwood Lodge was changing us in ways we’d never dreamed of. For the better.

Once Amory had polished off two donuts, Aunt Bessie said, “So, why don’t you two show me where you’re going to set up for the expo so I can sort out what size table I’ll need and how I wanted to display my donuts.”

“Allow me,” I said, excited by the prospect of working with my aunt and hoping that her table at the expo would generate lots of interest in Puft… who could resist those delicious sugary treats? It brought out the sticky-icing-faced child in us, brought back a rash of memories of eating still-warm cinnamon-covered donuts, or getting covered in chocolate, as they melted too quickly in little hands. Even now, at thirty-three, I delighted in eating a donut the way I did back then, lips coated with sugar, hands tacky with frosting, colorful crumbs dusting my clothes.

“We’re going to set the vendors up in the here.” Anticipation sizzled through me as I took in the ballroom. Christmas lights strung around curtain rails flashed intermittently, brightening up the gray morning. “We’ll do our presentations here. What do you think?” Outside, the mountain ranges stood like watchmen, staring straight ahead, their snow-dusted peaks mesmerizing. The brides would be snug and warm inside, sipping gingerbread coffees or champagne and chatting about love and how to make their big day truly special…

I loved weddings!

“Perfect, my darling,” she said, and I could see the pride in her eyes as she walked around the room mapping out where the tables would go, seeing it all as if through a crystal ball. “With the fire going it’ll be so cozy, they’ll be in awe of this room. With those chandeliers shining down, the grand old ballroom is a sight to behold. Once I’ve done my demonstration for them I’ll help serve tea and coffee, candy-cane milkshakes and whatnot…?”

“That would be great, Aunt Bessie.” An extra pair of hands, especially such skilled ones, would be a godsend. Aunt Bessie could charm the zilla from any Bridezilla.

“No problem. I’ll head back to Puft now and make a start on things. I know you girls have everything under control here and this expo will be a roaring success.”

I glowed at the thought and hoped she was right, “I’m going to visit Mom this afternoon and check in on her, before things get too hectic here.”

She gave me a wide smile and enveloped me in a hug, rocking me from side to side like I was a small child. “She’ll love that. And you tell her I’ll come by after work.”