I made a mental note to chop wood later today.
As I tended to the fire, I felt a sense of satisfaction settle over me.The room was cozy and inviting, a haven from the cold winter outside.The scent of pine mingled with that of burning wood, creating a nostalgic aroma that took me back to childhood Christmases spent in this very inn.
The mantel above the fireplace was adorned with a nativity scene, each figure lovingly placed in its spot.Tiny lights illuminated the scene, casting a soft glow on Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus in his manger.Flanking them were figurines of shepherds and wise men, their expressions frozen in perpetual awe.
I stepped back to admire my handiwork once more before heading back to my duties.The lobby was ready to welcome guests into its festive embrace, offering warmth and cheer to anyone who stepped through the door.
I stood back to admire the festive lobby, a sense of satisfaction warming me.The decorations seemed perfect, every detail a nod to Christmases past.It felt like a tribute to the inn's legacy, and maybe, a bit of a balm for my heart.
"Grandma," I called, heading toward the kitchen where she was finishing up making the last table."I'm going to clean the check-outs now."
She turned, wiping her hands on her apron."All right, sweetheart.I'll man the front desk.Call if you need anything."
I nodded, grateful for her support."Thanks, Grandma."
With that settled, I grabbed my cleaning supplies and made my way upstairs.The hallway stretched out in front of me, lined with doors that each held their own stories from countless guests over the years.Today, they were just rooms needing fresh linens and a good dusting.
I started with room 201, opening the door to reveal a scene of mild chaos—unmade bed, towels on the floor, and an empty suitcase left behind by mistake.I chuckled softly; it wasn’t uncommon for guests to forget things in their rush to leave.
As I stripped the bed and gathered the towels, my mind wandered back to Christian.His guarded demeanor intrigued me more than I cared to admit.But as Grandma had said, sometimes people just needed time and kindness.
With fresh sheets on the bed and clean towels in place, I moved on to dusting the furniture and vacuuming the floor.The rhythmic hum of the vacuum was almost soothing as it drowned out my thoughts.
Room by room, I worked through the check-outs, each one presenting its own small challenges but nothing I couldn't handle.In room 204, I found a child's drawing tucked under a pillow—crayon scribbles depicting a family in front of a Christmas tree.I smiled at the innocent artwork and decided to leave it on the nightstand in case they returned for it.
Time seemed to slip away as I moved through each room with practiced efficiency.By the time I finished the last one, I felt a sense of accomplishment settle over me.
Returning downstairs with an armful of linens for washing, I saw Grandma at the front desk, flipping through an old recipe book.
"Everything okay up here?"I asked as I approached.
She looked up and smiled warmly."All quiet on the western front," she said with a wink.
I laughed softly."Good to know."
With no check-ins expected today, we had some breathing room to relax before lunch preparations began.As I headed toward the laundry room with my bundle of linens, I felt content in knowing that our little inn was ready for whatever came next—be it guests or unexpected moments of connection like those fleeting ones with Christian.
The familiar scent of fabric softener filled the air as I loaded the linens into the washer.I added detergent and set the cycle.
Satisfied, I made my way to the kitchen, ready to help with lunch preparations.
The moment I stepped in, I froze.Grandma stood by the stove, a heaping spoonful of sugar poised over the simmering stew.
"Grandma, wait!"My voice echoed sharply in the quiet kitchen.
She paused, spoon hovering in mid-air."What is it, Claire?"
"That's sugar," I said, trying to keep my voice gentle."The stew needs salt."
Grandma frowned at me, confusion clouding her eyes."Nonsense, dear.I've been making this stew for years."
I took a deep breath and walked over, gently taking the spoon from her hand."Look," I said softly, holding up the jar labeledsugar.
She blinked, her expression shifting from confusion to shock."Oh...oh dear," she murmured.
"It's okay, Grandma," I whispered, setting the sugar aside and reaching for the salt instead.
But my heart broke as I watched her struggle to understand what had happened.She stood there, looking lost and vulnerable in a way I'd become all too familiar with.I had to blink away tears quickly so she wouldn't see them.
