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“The thing is, he’s exactly what I originally thought he was,” Charlotte said with a wry laugh. “I shouldn’t be surprised. I should have trusted my gut.”
Louise closed her eyes and stepped further toward Charlotte, drawing her into her arms. Charlotte nestled in her warmth, feeling the soft beating of her heart through her sweater. “I’m just so sorry, Mom,” Charlotte whispered. And this time, she wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for. Perhaps it was for all of it, for their decades apart. She never wanted that to happen again. Why had they been so arrogant, thinking they had an unlimited amount of time on Earth?
Charlotte wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt. “You and Bert have to come to the inn tonight,” she said, trying to clear her throat. “I’ve been cooking up a storm all day. All the cousins are there. And my granddaughters, Elisa and Brinlee.”
Louise smiled immediately. “You’ve got to stop manipulating me with my great-grandchildren,” she said. “I just can’t stay away.”
Bert agreed to join the party. As he donned his coat, he glanced at Louise, checking on her emotionally, making sure she was all right after the intense conversation. Louise squeezed his hand and said, “You’re going to love the Cherry Inn at Christmas, Bert. I’m so glad you can join us.”
The three of them walked slowly back through downtown, engaging with the Christmas lights and the sparkling stars in the black sky. Bert announced he felt like the luckiest man in the world, being escorted through town by two such beautiful ladies. Louise burrowed against him and said, “You’re so sappy, Bert.”
It was a surprise to the entire Summers clan when Charlotte led Louise into the foyer of the Cherry Inn. All eight cousins, spouses, children, and grandchildren were in the living room or dining room, drinking wine, eating cookies, feeding the crackling fire, and catching up. Bethany jumped to her feet and cried, “Aunt Louise is here!” And one after another, the cousins filtered into the foyer to swallow her with hugs and draw her deeper into the party. Bert was introduced, and he clapped everyone on the back and said, “What a spectacular inn! What a wonderful Christmas!”
At eight, the Summers gathered around dining room tables for the feast. Charlotte was seated between Van and Grandpa Hank at a table with Louise, Bert, Collin, Quinn, Brinlee, and Elisa. Charlotte, Frankie, Van, and Louise took turns bringing the meal into the dining room: enormous platters of turkey, ham, roasted pumpkin with feta and onion, cheesy potatoes, candied yams, Brussels sprouts, a mysterious Jell-O dish that one of the cousins had made, homemade rolls, and numerous salads, their dressing glinting in the soft candlelight. And when everyone had a full plate and a glass of wine, beer, juice, or water in front of them, Charlotte stood up, raised her hands, and said, “Will everyone join me in prayer?”
Charlotte closed her eyes and held Van and Grandpa Hank’s hands. Because the dining room was filled to the gills with Summers family members, the silence around her seemed impossible. Everyone awaited her prayer.
“Dear Lord,” Charlotte began, no longer versed in the art of prayer, “I want to thank you for bringing the entire Summers family together after so many years apart. I want to thank you for our gorgeous memories here at the Cherry Inn and the tremendous love our Grandpa Hank and Grandma Dee always showed us. I want to thank you for our final year of Christmas here at the Cherry Inn before we move on to other memories and other plans. I’d like to ask for your continued blessings as we celebrate the next several days together. Our family love is an unbreakable bond that you’ve given us. We thank you, Oh Lord. Amen.”
“Amen,” the family murmured.
Hours later, after the pie was eaten, the plates were cleared and washed, and the kitchen was scrubbed to a shine, Charlotte found herself before the warmth of the fire, surrounded by her cousins. Rudy clapped the couch cushion beside him and said, “Saved you a seat, cuz.”
Charlotte hopped onto the couch beside him and placed her head on his shoulder. Rudy was the closest to her in age and had always been her favorite. A long time ago, he’d been married, but they hadn’t had children, and the romance hadn’t worked out. Sometimes, Charlotte ached for what she perceived as his loneliness. But what did she know? Maybe he was the happiest of them all.
“What was it you were saying,” Rudy asked quietly, “about this being our last Christmas at the Cherry Inn?”
Charlotte raised her head. Most of the cousins had overheard the question and turned their attention to her. They looked almost accusatory.
“Grandpa’s selling,” Frankie answered for her.
“He hasn’t signed the papers yet,” Charlotte hurried to add. “But yeah. Some very rich men want to flip the inn.”
The cousins held the silence. With the fire crackling before them and the Christmas tree aglow in the corner, it seemed impossible this was anything but 1983. It seemed impossible these anonymous city folks would rip through the inn, through the fabric of their memories.
“I just hate it,” Bethany whispered.
Everyone murmured their agreement.
“But Grandpa has to do what he needs to do,” Rudy said. “And we have to respect that.”
Not long afterward, the cousins returned to separate conversations, discussing their homes across the United States, how White Plains had changed, how they felt about parenting, their take on American politics— everything. Charlotte remained quiet, watching the flames.
And then, she heard herself say: “Do you remember that guy I met at the bar a few weeks ago? The developer guy.”
Rudy flinched. “Charlie?”
“Yeah.” Charlotte swallowed the lump in her throat. “I feel like such a fool for falling for him. It’s so obvious he was just here to stake out properties.”
Rudy arched his eyebrow but remained quiet.
“I mean, we only kissed a few times,” Charlotte added, her cheeks burning. “But I was caught up in the whirlwind of that. He seemed so smart. So earnest. You should have heard the way he talked about the church down the road. I felt as though I was finally seeing the world through somebody else’s eyes, and I liked what I saw.”
Rudy grimaced and rubbed his neck. He looked nervous.
“I was so wrong about him,” Charlotte went on. “I hate that I can’t trust my instincts at all anymore. What will I do when I get back to the city? Just hole up in that apartment. Never date again. Oh, and what will I do about Van and Ethan? They can’t go back to Brooklyn.” She chewed on her lower lip.
“I don’t think you were necessarily wrong about Charlie,” Rudy said tentatively.
