"YOU GOT it?" Holly, the head waitress at the Holiday Lake Inn, whispered.
Her eyes were wide, as if she were a reluctant participant in a smuggling operation.
Which, in a way, she was.
"Yes, we did," Zoe replied, lifting one of her bags like trophy. "We got it all."
"All" was quite a bit. Nat was carrying three bags. Marisol was carrying a box. Even Jecca was carrying a couple of sacks, one of which containing only fortune cookies.
"Is the back room empty?" Zoe asked.
"You betcha," Holly said, smiling. "We cleared it out."
"Excellent," Zoe said, heading down the hallway. "Give me ten minutes and I'll have everything set up."
"Awesome," Holly replied.
Her name tag reminded Nat that she still had to pick up Gigi's secret project at the print shop. The woman in charge of the print shop counter tonight was also named Holly. This was not unusual in Holiday Lake, where seasonal names like Holly, Chris, Noelle, and Klaus were preternaturally popular. Their local real estate agent was also a Holly and Nat's own name, ugh, she didn't like to think about that.
Nat had no idea how Gigi intended to manage what she called the "drop-off," but she was sure that the little girl would figure it out somehow.
The Inn was filled to capacity, as it was every Christmas Eve. They crossed the wood-paneled hallway, passing families waiting patiently for a table, and rounded the elegantly decorated main Christmas tree.
"You should try something new on the decor front," Marisol said. "I have a bunch of Kurt Adler ornaments that would look gorgeous."
"We've always had these," Zoe replied with a weary sigh.
The Inn was one of the town's original buildings. The German immigrants who built Holiday Lake had brought their native Bavarian architectural tastes, so the building was all dark wood and white stucco with lots of intricately carved trim pieces.
The traditional Christmas decorations looked beautiful in the space, but Zoe was right. They hadn't been changed in years.
"They're fifty thousand years old," Jecca noted.
"Maybe a little older, but you say that like it's a bad thing," Zoe replied. "Our clients like continuity. That's why they come every year. They want the same experience—same building, same light show, same ribbons, same ornaments."
"Your mom added a Kwanzaa table to the buffet," Nat interjected. "And we changed the ribbons five years ago."
She still carried the emotional scars from that particular trauma. It had been her first job assignment after returning to town. The Kreiger clan was not fond of change, and the ribbons had been gray and tattered by the time they agreed to change them. Luckily, Nat had found the perfect fabric—
"And I'm still getting nasty letters about that," Zoe interjected, interrupting Nat's train of thought. "The ribbons, not the buffet. Momma's okra stew and sweet potato pie encountered no resistance whatsoever."
"What?" she exclaimed. "The new fabric was an exact match."
"Almost," Zoe said. "It has a chartreuse stripe. The old one had gold."
"It's barely visible," Nat said.
Zoe gave an exasperated sigh. "Look, I have families that come here every single year. They've been doing it for decades. They notice these things."
Jecca nodded. "Some of my clients created a Facebook tribute page for my porcelain snowman cookie jar."
"The one that broke?" Marisol asked.
"Yes," Jecca said. "It still gets a thousand views a month."
"But that's understandable," Nat said. "It was the World's Biggest Cookie Jar from 1962 through 1967."
Jecca gave a sad sigh. "Until the Japanese beat us."
"What I'm trying to say is that the cookie jar was special," Nat said. "This is a two-millimeter gold stripe in a four-inch ribbon."
"It's chartreuse, Nat," Zoe said, opening the door to the back room. "Deal with it."
They entered a large wood-paneled banquet hall with wood tables and carved wood chairs. Two large wrought-iron chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and lit-up Christmas garlands and wreaths hung everywhere. The table was set buffet-style with a stack of china—the inn used the Royal Albert Christmas Rose pattern—and a basket full of cutlery and napkins. There was also an impressive array of wine and wineglasses.
"Looks like Holly got the place ready," Zoe said. "Let's lay this all out. The staff can come in and help themselves."
"We need drinks," Marisol said. "And cups. Not everyone drinks wine."
"I'll go get them," Zoe said. "Anything else?"
"I'm good," Jecca said, grabbing a wine bottle and a wineglass.
"I see that," Zoe said, laughing.
She left the room and Nat went to join Jecca, who handed her a wineglass.
"Merry Christmas, Nat," Jecca said.
"To you and yours," Nat replied with the traditional response.
"Are you having wine, Marisol?" Jecca asked.
Nat's mom sighed. "Why not? It has been a long month. Don't drink too much, Nat. Remember, you have to drive us back."
Nat sighed and downed a very small sip of wine.
Jecca handed Marisol a wineglass with a kind smile. "Merry Christmas."
Marisol accepted the glass with a shaky hand. Her face was flushed and she looked like she was about to cry.
"Spill it, Mom," Nat said. "What's been going on?"
"Nothing," Marisol said, pushing her hair away from her face. "Everything is great."
Nat and Jecca exchanged a glance. Marisol was being conspicuously stoic again, and it fooled no one.
Marisol sighed and took a sip of wine. "Fine, maybe 'great' is too strong of a word."
Jecca sat down on one of the carved wood chairs and patted the chair next to her. "Come tell us all about it."
Marisol sighed and sat down. Nat joined her, grateful to see that Jecca was taking charge. The gossipy baker was good at getting people to relax and open up. Even complete strangers ended up at The Sweet Chalet drinking coffee and telling Jecca their life stories.
"I'm not as young as I used to be," Marisol started. "And I've been doing a lot of thinking this year because I'm getting a little bit tired."
"You are?" Nat asked, surprised.
She hadn't noticed anything. Her mom got up early and went to work every day, as cheerful as always. She traveled every couple of months to buy inventory, and she went on vacations with her friends.
She had never complained. True, Joel was no longer part of her life, but that change was fairly recent. She'd never expressed dissatisfaction with her life before.
"Oh, Nat," Marisol said, gesturing with her glass. "You are working all the time. Of course you didn't notice."
Whoa, guilt trip much? But maybe her mom was right. She really hadn't noticed, had she?
Marisol took another sip of wine. "I just thought maybe it was time for a change. You know that auction-house manager from Minneapolis? The one who comes every year and tries to buy my china cabinet?"
"The one you say stalks you online?" Nat asked.
"I don't just say it. It's a fact. She likes all of my pictures, even the ones from five years ago."
"Right," Jecca said. "So why is she stalking you?"
"I didn't know," Marisol exclaimed. "I had no idea, but guess what? She wants to buy my store."
Nat's mouth fell open.
"Yes," her mother continued. "She's tired of big-city living and wants to come live in Holiday Lake. She says she'd like to keep me as a buyer on a part-time basis."
"You're selling Odds and Elves?" Nat asked.
She was having trouble wrapping her head around the concept. Selling the store? Marisol had built that store from scratch. She'd spent years traveling around in her old Ford Bronco, looking for Christmas-themed antiques. Thanks to Marisol, Odds and Elves was a legend among Christmas shops. And she wanted to sell it?
"That would be an exciting change," Jecca said, glaring at Nat.
Ah, yes, that's how you got people to talk. You encouraged them, instead of remarking that they had lost their minds.
Especially if they had.
"I think so," Marisol said. "I've always wanted to travel as a tourist, see new places. I thought Joel would also—" She sipped her wine. "Oh, never mind."
A sympathetic smile crossed Jecca's face. "You thought maybe he'd be thinking the same way."
Marisol nodded. "He likes camping. We go out in the woods, and there's a group of retirees that comes to boondock here at the lake. They call themselves the Jolly Rogers and they have recreational vehicles. They travel around the country."
Jecca smiled. "That sounds like fun."
Nat wanted to strangle her friend. Camping in the woods in an RV? Why was Jecca encouraging this?
"It was," Marisol agreed, eyes shining with unshed tears. "But Joel—"
"We're good to go," Zoe said, entering the room with a cart full of soft drinks and water bottles. Holly and a few of the waiters and cooks followed her in.
Nat's fists clenched in frustration. Zoe's timing was horrible, as always. However, it couldn't be helped. The moment for confidences was over.
"Let's break out the food," Marisol said, blinking back her tears. "I'm starving."
"Absolutely," Jecca said, patting her knee.
Nat sighed and followed their lead.
They opened the various food containers. This wasn't the usual single-order take out. This was practically catering. By the time they were done, they had lo mein, fired rice, orange chicken, Kun Pao chicken, Mongolian beef, and a few other dishes Nat couldn't identify. They also had egg rolls, dumplings, and crab rangoon.
The food smelled delicious, and not at all like Christmas, which was the point.
Zoe poured herself a wineglass and lifted it. "Okay, guys. Grab your poison. It's time for the toast."
Everyone grabbed a glass.
"Make it quick, Zoe," Holly said. "We have a full house."
"Good," Zoe said. "We've had another fantastic year, and we couldn't have done it without your help. That's why we are rewarding you with"—she gestured toward the Chinese food—"A non-Christmas treat for those of us who have had all the turkey we can stand this year."
"Hear ye, hear ye," everyone shouted.
Zoe grinned. "Thank you all for making this a terrific year and bringing the magic of Christmas to this town all year round—"
"Even when it hit ninety-nine degrees in August," a young male waiter shouted. "And some of us still had to dress like Santa Claus."
Everyone laughed.
"Your sacrifice is appreciated, Chris," Zoe said. "Those kids had a blast."
"Hey, what about the elves?" Holly asked. "We worked too."
"You were in green bikinis and tiny little elf hats," Chris countered. "Not the same."
"They were very hot hats," a female waiter shouted.
More laughter.
"Well, we appreciate all of you," Zoe said. "I know you can't all eat at the same time, but the shift schedules are in the kitchen. Dig in when you have a chance." She raised her glass. "Merry, merry at Holiday Lake."
"Merry, Merry," everyone replied.
The group then split, with most of the staff going back to their jobs. The rest gathered around the table and started scooping food onto their plates, with Marisol being at the head of the line.
Nothing got between Marisol and a big plate of lo mein.
"Great speech, Zoe," Nat said.
Zoe sighed. "You think so? It's hard to keep people motivated when they have to work during the holidays. I'm lucky I have such a good crew."
Nat smiled. Luck had nothing to do with it. Most of Zoe's employees were town residents, so they had prepared from childhood to always put on a big show during the holiday season.
"And," Zoe continued. "I hope Chris is joking about dressing up as August Santa because he's going to have to do it again next year."
"He'll show up," Nat said. "He loves—"
She paused as her phone buzzed insistently.
"Excuse me," she said, as she fished it out of her pocket.
She frowned as she read the text on the screen.
"Is everything okay?" Zoe asked.
"I guess not," Nat answered. "It's Cyrus."
"Is something wrong?" her friend asked.
Nat put the phone back. "I have to go. Cyrus has an emergency."