Gramps hesitated. “I think I already threw it out.”
Silence enveloped the table, punctuated only by Snowball’s whine as she begged for the food cooking in the oven. Nolan ignored her.
He said, “I have Martha on Facebook. I can ask her if she still has any old Christmas photos. She could send them to us digitally.”
The disappointment on his dad’s face lifted. “Yeah? Maybe that Facebook is good for something, after all.”
To Nolan’s surprise, Gramps said, “A few of the guests have been asking about Christmas decorations.”
“Do we still have any?”
Nolan’s throat constricted. Had Gramps thrown out the box he’d found?
But the old man nodded. “Some of Mary’s old things. Not all, mind. But enough. When you put some out the other day, it got me thinking… maybe it is time we at least made a show of celebrating the holiday.”
“I could pick up a few more things in town. If you’re interested in decorating this year. We still have time.” Only a couple days before Christmas, but that would be enough. He held his breath and waited.
Gramps and his dad exchanged a look. Then, ever so slowly, Gramps reached out and tugged the photo of Nolan’s mom and dad closer. His lips curled in a smile. “Only buy the things your mom would have liked.”
That didn’t narrow down the offerings by much, given how much she adored the season.
Gramps said, “Maybe we should clean up the old sleigh too. People hereabouts might like to go on a sleigh ride, and goodness knows those horses could use the exercise.”
Nolan’s mom had been the last person to use that sleigh. The entire family had bundled in with her, with Stan driving. It had been magical. But then, it had been magical every year. Sleigh rides, and then indoors again for hot cocoa in front of the fireplace. But what would his dad say to someone else using that sleigh?
Stan nodded. “Yeah. Especially the kids around here. I bet they’d get a kick out of it. You sure did, growing up. I used to have you in the driver’s seat next to me.”
“I remember.”
Squinting, Gramps turned to pin Nolan with his stare. “Speaking of kids, when are you going to give us a new baby around here to spoil?”
Oh, boy, what in the world had gotten into his grandfather?“I’m not even dating anyone, Gramps.”
“You’re not getting any younger. And neither am I. You’re going to let life pass you right by if you’re not careful.”
Stan suggested, “Ida is throwing one of her Christmas parties. Maybe we should throw one here too. It would bring all the local girls around, and you never know what might happen under mistletoe.”
When Gramps looked like he might be considering the idea, Nolan groaned. “Please don’t. I mean, we can’t. There’s no time to plan a party.”
The two other men deflated a bit. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”
Silence. Nolan cast around for another memory to lighten the mood but couldn’t think of one. Instead, still preoccupied with Julie, he blurted, “The Cozy Holly Inn is coming along nicely. Julie has it all decked out. All she needs now is for it to pass inspection.” Remembering something Gramps had said a couple days before, Nolan added, “Gramps, didn’t you mention that you were going to do a favor for the inspector? Maybe you could put in a good word for Julie while you’re at it.”
Klaus shifted guiltily in his chair. His open expression closed off again as he turned to look out the window, at the snow-dusted trees and boiling gray clouds behind them. “I… ahem. That… might not be possible.”
Without asking, Nolan knew that his grandfather had done something. Something that might ruin all the plans Julie had been working toward this entire time. Despite the sick feeling in his stomach, he had to ask. He had to know.
“Gramps… what did you do?”
His grandfather pressed his lips together tight and didn’t answer.
Chapter 29
Looking at her handiwork, Julie couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so satisfied. Admittedly, the hot chocolate she, Ivy, and Myrtle were drinking helped with that feeling of warmth. But the inn itself, sparkling around her with twinkle lights and festooned with Christmas decorations, created a cozy feeling in and of itself. Julie didn’t want to leave.
She drained the last of her hot chocolate and fished out the marshmallows that had fallen to the bottom of the cup. “I think we’re done. Thank you so much for coming over to help, both of you.”
With pursed lips, Myrtle shook her head. She wore the kind of ugly Christmas sweater Julie wouldn’t be caught dead in, but on her, it looked cute rather than corny. “It needs one more thing—mistletoe. Ida always hung a sprig in the doorway to the kitchen.”
