“With bells on?” he teased.
“Preferably not.” She laughed. “Well, I’ve got paperwork, and you have the rest of the day off. Go. Shoo. Go create something brilliant.” She made a go away motion with her hand. “Pop back for lunch at noon. I’ll wrestle up something to eat.”
He saluted and carried a stack of dirty glasses into the kitchen.
Fresh coffee in hand, she walked through the public areas looking for anything that needed cleaned or tidied. She took a moment to examine Owen’s ornament rack. It was created of some kind of black metal, maybe wrought iron. Half inch wide, square strips of metal were spiraled and then shaped into curves. It resembled a very elaborate mug tree with a 3D star on the top. The tree part rose from a stylized metal stocking. It was reminiscent of a Christmas tree poking out of a stocking. He’d put a lot of work into it, and it was beautiful and creative. The dark metal contrasted with and highlighted the colorful antique ornaments she’d hung on it.
After ensuring everything was as it should be, she settled in at her aunt’s desk. She’d spent many hours in this small office as a child, playing with dolls and watching her mother do paperwork. It really felt like home. Much more so than her apartment had ever felt.
She liked it here, almost as much as she loved the city. The bright lights. The people. Her job. There was so much about her job that she adored. She couldn’t wait to get back.
As she worked her way through their chef’s food order, calling vendors and ordering online, she was struck again at how much her assistant job was similar to running an inn. Clients, vendors, small emergencies. Gallons of coffee to keep functioning. Although here, she needed less coffee to function and didn’t have to order out to get a decent cup. The commute was better too. Having only twenty steps to her bed was the biggest perk.
She shook off the half melancholy thoughts. She loved her job and being home was temporary. A couple months at best. Because, realistically, how long could her aunt stay in Nepal?
With her supply orders finished, she leaned back and stretched the kinks out of her shoulders. That was part of both jobs she didn’t care for. Her gaze landed on the stack of mail the chef had brought in with her. To save Auntie O travel time, the chef picked up the mail a couple times a week.
She flipped through it. The first item was an amendment to the chef’s agreement to work Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. She was requesting an assistant for those days and had provided a name. The request was reasonable, so Rill agreed to it. This was the first time on record that the inn was at total capacity for the holidays. In previous years, they limited registrations to a few rooms. This year, Auntie O had left it wide open and they had a full house. Going away with Fern wasn’t planned, it cropped up at the last moment, making extra help a great idea. Rill had already hired an extra chambermaid for the holidays, though she wouldn’t work Christmas Day. For one day of the year, guests could tidy their own messes.
The mail consisted of a few fliers and a stack of bills. A couple postcards and thank you notes from previous guests. Personal mail for Auntie O. Her hand trembled when she saw her own name on the final envelope. The return address was Splitz Clothing. She stared at it for a long time, smoothing it between her fingers. It was thick and heavy, implying it was more than just a pay stub.
She flicked at the flap with a fingernail. It was open about half an inch before she stuffed it into a drawer and slammed it shut. Nope. She wasn’t opening it. She didn’t need bad news spoiling Christmas. She’d open it later. Whatever news was inside wouldn’t change over the next few days.
It was only days until Christmas and she didn’t need to know at the moment. Nope. Bad news would destroy the seasonal joy, and peace, she felt at being home. The unease of not knowing was better than being fired. She jumped up from the desk and before she realized her intentions, she was outside headed to the outbuilding Owen used as a workshop.
The small green building was old, but sturdy. Someone, probably Owen, had painted it recently. The walkway was clear of snow, and a small plume of steam came from a vent in the roof. He must have added a furnace. Funny that she hadn’t been out to the building before today. It had been relegated to junk storage when she was a kid. That place where broken tools and unneeded items were put temporarily but ended up staying forever.
She stopped a few steps from the door. The sun was out and the day was warming up. She wasn’t chilled at all in her work jacket and boots. She didn’t even need a hat or mitts. It might get warm enough to melt a bit. She’d have to watch for ice on the walkways later. She turned her back to the workshop and looked around the yard. There were miles of sidewalks, all perfectly clear. She knew Owen kept them clean. She couldn’t wait to give him the snowblower she’d ordered. The inn had too many walkways for one man to shovel.
Chickadees hopped from branch to branch, and in the distance, a crow called loudly. Down the road a way a dog barked, and then silence returned. She needed to spend more time outside enjoying the quiet sounds of nature. She’d be back to the continual hum of the city too soon. She’d miss the peace and quiet of the inn. She didn’t even want to think about missing Owen and Auntie O.
Inside the shed, Owen hammered on something, and she heard the electric fizz-snap of the welder. She knew better than to enter without protective eye covering. Those arcs could blind you if you looked at them directly. When it fell silent again, she knocked on the door. Lightly at first, then louder when he didn’t seem to hear her.
She waited for him to answer, wondering why she was here. She had plenty of work to do. He was busy...she had no reason to be here.
The door opened just as she turned to go. “Amaryllis! Come in.”
She stepped inside. The brightly lit room was toasty warm and filled with the hot, burning, ozone scent of the welder. She sniffed, unsure if she liked the aroma or not. It was harsh and different. The scent dissipated quickly, and she realized there was a ventilation fan clearing out the fumes. At least she didn’t have to worry about him succumbing to toxic gases while he worked.
“What brings you out here?” He waved for her to move further inside and closed the door behind her.
“Oh, you added a back door?” It was both question and statement because the small space now had a door near the back and an opening that led to another room. “And a second room too.”
He chuckled. “I did. Fresh air is a must when you’re welding. The other room is storage for finished pieces. Go ahead, take a look. I’ll just keep working.” He picked up a heavy bristled wire brush and starting scouring a piece of metal clamped tightly in a vise.
“What are you working on?” She leaned close to catch a glimpse.
“It’s a secret. For me to know and you to find out.” His voice was light with laughter. She couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Oh, a Christmas present for me?” She peered around his shoulder.
He tapped her on the nose with his finger. “Never mind, missy.”
She watched him brushing the piece for several minutes. As hard as she stared, she couldn’t figure out what he was trying to achieve. Tiny bits of metal fell away from a seam in the piece and micro scratches marred the rest of the surface. He scratched from two different directions creating a light crosshatch pattern.
After a few minutes he repeated his earlier question. “What brings you out here?” He set the brush down and turned to rest his backside against the workbench.
His steady gaze made her uncomfortable so she moved to mimic his position. He pivoted to keep her in sight.
