Christmas at Cedarwood Lodge

       Five years later

      The office door swung open with a bang, bringing with it the sound of Christmas carols and Cruz’s dark face. Amory moved quickly to hide the gift she’d only half-wrapped.

      “What is it?” I asked. Cruz was usually the epitome of cool, but something bothered him this fine Christmas Eve.

      “Have you seen the ham hock?”

      I pressed my lips together to stifle the laugh that threatened to escape. Ham hock? When no response was forthcoming from me he turned his steely gaze on Amory. “Well?”

      She shook her head, innocent eyes wide. Just then a little giggle carried from down the hallway. We did our best to ignore it, knowing quite suddenly where the ham hock had gone.

      “What did you need it for exactly?” I asked, buying time. The little giggle was edging closer, bringing with it the cheery notes of ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’.

      “I need the hock for soup; waste not, want not.” His words were clipped as they so often were, having given up on me and Amory eons ago when it came to our education in the culinary arts. The only part we were interested in was consuming the delicious dishes – quality control; we wanted no part in the making of them.

      “Didn’t we just eat our body weight in ham?” Amory asked. We’d been feasting on Christmas menus for the month of December in light of our festive season guests.

      “Yes,” he said, his voice huffy. “And the remnants would make a fine soup. Running a kitchen is all about budgeting and minimizing food waste…”

      Amory held up a hand, her eyes getting that particular glaze when Cruz tried to explain his position to her.

      Unbeknownst to Cruz, five-year-old Millie appeared, light shining on her blonde head like a halo, the perfect disguise for the little minx she was. In her hand was the vestige of the ham hock, or at least that’s what it appeared to be to my untrained eye. Either that or she’d been excavating the garden for dinosaur bones again, but perhaps not in such snowy weather. You never could tell with Millie, though.

      Cruz sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “It was Millie again, wasn’t it? And she’s behind me, isn’t she?”

      Millie let her giggles spill out, and we soon followed suit. “Yes,” I said, lips twitching. She wore a bright-red Christmas onesie whose padded feet helped her sashay about undetected.

      The tension left Cruz’s face and he turned to the small child. “Ah,” he said, taking the hock from her hand. “I should’ve known you’d be the culprit.” His voice softened. Millie had stolen the hearts of everyone at the lodge, despite her rascally nature. “Who were you saving this time?”

      “The doggies,” she said in her cherubic voice. “Amory helped me.”

      Amory let out a gasp and said, “I most certainly did not.” And then made shushing gestures to Millie behind Cruz’s back. Those two were partners in crime and it warmed my heart, even though Millie often gave her so-called confidante up to save herself.

      Cruz just shook his head. “At this rate we’ll go bankrupt but the menagerie will be plump enough to live through the winter.”

      We had amassed a number of stray animals at the lodge. Dogs, and cats, and once a pony, which I had spirited away to a friend’s farm before Millie could lay claim. Amory took the dogs home at night, but during the day they roamed the gardens, or snuggled by the fire, being secretly fed by these two conspirators.

      “Amory told me no one likes ham soup,” Millie continued, getting her godmother well and truly in trouble.

      Cruz turned slowly to Amory. “Did she now?” Amory’s mouth opened and closed while Millie just grinned, like the Cheshire Cat.

      “She did.” Millie shrugged her shoulders, as if such trivial things bored her. “Can we open the presents now?”

      “Not yet.” Millie’s face fell.

      “Maybe I can sneak you one or two later,” Amory said. “How about we go grab a snack while Cruz isn’t looking? Some of those Santa-shaped gingerbread men…?”

      Millie squealed.

      “I’m right here, you know,” Cruz said, but smiled. He loved feeding people, and secretly delighted that none of his cookies ever made it through a day. There were plenty of hands snatching from the cookie jar.

      For someone who didn’t want children of her own Amory sure didn’t mind spending time with them. It was a godsend really. She was the fun aunt, the one who got up to mischief with Millie, or cuddled and crooned to baby Brooklyn when my eyes were popping out of my head from lack of sleep.

      Motherhood had been my greatest achievement to date, but I hadn’t been prepared for how much strength it sapped. Brooklyn was only three months old and had trouble settling. Then I’d have Millie up with the sparrows. Luckily I had plenty of hands at the lodge, so I could duck off for a nap when my brain turned to mush from fatigue.

      The trio left the room, hands entwined, Millie negotiating for more cookies.

      Alone, I kept up with wrapping the gifts, smiling when I came to ones I’d bought earlier in the year when I was fueled with pregnancy hormones. I really don’t know what I’d been thinking. Why would I have bought Kai a compass? The man read the stars, the moon, the sun, the wind… Still, I’d managed to get it all done and the children’s presents too, which were hidden upstairs in the attic. Millie had hunted high and low for them, but she had no idea there even was an attic. She hadn’t clued on yet the little cord dangling down was the access point.

      Kai wandered in, his cheeks red from exertion, I hastily covered his present with the bright-red foil. “Been wandering up the mountain?” I asked.

      “It was lonely without you.”

      I stood and kissed him hard on the lips, tasting the fresh mountain air and his particular Kai loveliness. My heart did somersaults and I wondered if the effect he had on me would ever fade. It was still as strong as ever, but more solid now, more real. “My mountain-climbing days are numbered,” I said. “Until I’ve slept a good eight hours in a row.” Well, that was my excuse, anyway. He still dragged me out for midnight yoga over the summertime, and I’d fallen in love with the way it made me feel. Now I did it of my own free will, but cloistered inside, where it was warm in the winter.

      I put my cheek against his chest, the thrumming of his heart almost enough to lull me to sleep. It still seemed like a dream, our fairy-tale romance, the fact we’d made a little family together, built up a thriving business and kept our love alive despite long hours and sleepless nights. Unlike my previous relationships, things just gelled with Kai. The more life got hectic,