The doorbell rang.
“Julie,” Gram called.
Julie hurried to finish off the tray and called back, “I’ve got it.” She wiped her fingers on a kitchen towel with embroidered mistletoe in the corners.
By the time she reached the front door, Gram was on her heels. She opened the door and smiled at the first arrivals. To her surprise, it didn’t feel forced. By now, Julie had spoken with over half the town with her stops in for groceries or to meet with Ivy. They weren’t strangers. The first three arrivals, in fact, were friends. Myrtle had barely taken off her coat, which Julie hung over her arm to transfer to one of the beds upstairs, when Ivy and her husband pulled up to the inn.
She hugged both of them tight. “Thank you so much for coming.”
“Thank you for inviting me,” Ivy said with a wink. “I figured I’d be left out because I’m too young for the traditional crowd.”
“That may be changing,” Gram said warmly. “Julie needs some friends her own age here too. Why don’t you all go into the living room? Nolan and Klaus Miller are already in there by the fire.”
Julie wanted to join them, but another vehicle pulled into the large area beside the circular driveway, which had been plowed earlier in the day to accommodate parking. Then another. All were faces Julie recognized. Lucy and her mother from the café. Al Henderson, the owner of the grocery store in town. When Ned Wheatley arrived and Julie’s arms were overflowing with coats, she told him, “Wait right here. I have something for you.”
She disappeared upstairs, and on the way back, picked up the picture she had found of Ned and his brother. The old man was making himself comfortable in the dining room, which was filling with an increasing number of people, when she found him again. When she presented him with the picture, his eyes watered.
“That’s me and my brother.”
“I know.” She could have walked away under the pretense of greeting more of the guests—there were faces here now she didn’t even recognize, one of them being the middle-aged woman who had been chatting with Ned when she’d walked up. Instead, she leaned over his shoulder and looked at the picture with him. “Which one is you? You two look so alike, I can’t tell.”
With a watery chuckle, Ned pointed out the man on the left. He then launched into a charming story about a prank he and his brother had once played on Gram during one of these parties. Julie found herself laughing and relaxing. She liked chatting with him, even though they didn’t know each other well. And when he reached out to squeeze her hand with a thank-you, her chest warmed.
It was surprisingly nice to find herself in this position, able to talk to people in the role of hostess. A heck of a lot better than being stuffed into a cubicle and asked to churn out an increasing number of daily words, like she was a lemon squeezed for the last bit of juice.
She turned to the woman, who Gram must have greeted in her stead. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you.”
The woman chuckled. “You wouldn’t. I’m staying at Barrington Lodge over Christmas. You are so lucky to live in this beautiful town.”
I would be lucky, Julie thought. She didn’t live here, and in fact, would have to leave tomorrow night if she wanted to be back in Boston in time to prepare for her interview. It felt like another world, another life.
When she left the pair, she found that the house had filled up with guests. The parking area was full, and the driveway was lined on one side with cars, leaving just enough space for a vehicle to squeeze past on the way out. Not that anyone seemed inclined to leave. Julie paused in the arch to the living room. Lights sparkled from the windows and the Christmas tree. The air smelled of pine and the freshly baked appetizers circulating the room. Around her, guests laughed and chattered, one voice blending into the next. The party was a success. She grinned.
She spotted Myrtle posing by the tree while Gram took her photo using a digital camera. Julie navigated the room until she could take the camera from Gram. Along the way, she caught snatches of conversation, stories being told of past parties and how this one compared. In her eyes, this one was the best of all.
Then again, she had been a kid or a teenager for the others. Not exactly interested in spending time with people her mom or Gram’s age.
“Let me take one.” Julie had to shout to be heard over the rest of the partygoers. She took the camera from Gram and ushered her into place next to Myrtle. Julie snapped more than one photo, just in case the first one turned out badly. The moment she started to put down the camera and Myrtle stepped away, someone else claimed the spot next to Gram. Julie took another photo, and another, and another until Myrtle tugged the camera out of her hand.
“Let me. If this is going to be the last party, we might as well make as many memories as we can.”
She sounded sad. Despite the cheer of the party, Julie felt it too. It wasn’t just that this would be the last Christmas Eve party thrown by the Cozy Holly Inn. This was the end of the Cozy Holly Inn. Soon it would become a part of Barrington Lodge.
What had Gram said about staying? But that was a dream, a what-if. The reality was that this house all but belonged to someone else now.
Julie forced her shoulders back and faked a cheerful smile until it became natural. It was easy. Every knot of guests she stopped at to say hello had stories to tell of the past, of how much the inn meant to them. It was more than a business, more than a place to stay while someone was here on vacation. It was a part of the community. And so was Gram, even if she’d been away for the last long while.
Her stomach grumbling, Julie managed to detach herself and pluck a glass of water from a server’s tray and a couple appetizers on a napkin from another. She found the quietest corner of the dining room and wedged herself into it, watching the revelry from a distance. It was nice to talk to so many people who had fond memories of her family and her gram, but she needed a minute of breathing room.
Nolan found her there when she’d polished off the appetizers and had finished half the water. Without saying a word, he slid into place beside her, his back to the wall, and looked out to the gathering.
“I thought you might have left,” she confessed.
“A party like this? Not a chance. You’re a success.” He toasted her with a glass of his own, this one filled with punch.
Julie felt her cheeks heat. “It’s all Gram and the caterer. I just did the decorating.”
“You did the lion’s share of the work. Don’t diminish yourself.” He gave her a smile she felt down to her toes. “I’m glad it worked out in the end.”
