mysterious Cruz, who hailed from Ecuador and was all intense with deep, smoldering eyes.
“The same,” she sighed. “You know men in Manhattan. Can’t really commit to anything except their gym routines. And I’m crazy busy myself, so we’ll have to wait and see. We’re meeting for cocktails tonight, and then a show on Friday, so two dates in one week… a miracle in these parts.”
Amory would never fully admit how she felt about a guy; it was like some protective instinct in her. And she’d been equally blasé about most guys up until now. Cruz was different, and I hoped she’d open up to him. “He really likes you, Amory, you can tell, so I hope you don’t act indifferent with him.”
“Darling, I don’t act indifferent, I am indifferent. Because most of the guys I’ve dated have been total bores. There’s no point hiding the fact they sent me into a slumber. Cruz is the first guy I haven’t had to fake it with… and I’m not talking only sex,” she laughed. “But I won’t pin my hopes on him, not just yet. There’s a definite sizzle of attraction, but what if it fades?”
“That first overwhelming can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t stop thinking of you stage of love might fade away but it’ll be replaced with more enduring emotions like comfort and stability.” What the hell did I know? I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been on a date… still, it seemed like sound advice.
“Boring! I want the sparks.”
I laughed, knowing Amory wouldn’t settle for mundane, ever.
“Oh, God, please tell me that’s not Bonnie Tyler warbling in the background again?”
I froze.
“Darling, when you play ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ I know things are grim. Please, turn it off and listen to something more upbeat?”
“It’s… the radio!” I lied.
After ending the call, I leaned back and smiled. Amory always knew just what to say to perk me up, even if it was to rekindle a pretty dull flame from my past… Turning up ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ I thought about my best friend’s advice. Believing that true love was out there was easy; I just couldn’t quite believe it was going to be found in the tiny town of Evergreen.
The evenings grew longer and winter crept closer, bringing moody gray skies and the promise of cooler months to come. Under such solemn light, I felt the space between me and Mom yawn wider. She still hadn’t appeared and I knew something was up. I dialed her number again and was rewarded with the robotic voice: the number you have dialed… I hung up. Enough was enough.
At the lodge, things were progressing hectically and only just behind schedule, and I supposed the world wouldn’t fall down around me if I took one night off from the endless paperwork and reconciling the figures. There was just so much to do, but I wasn’t concentrating properly with Mom’s absence on my mind.
The wind keened like a lost soul as I locked the front door of the lodge. Kai was wandering around the grounds so I set off and found him peering into the window of one of the chalets near the lake.
“I’m going out,” I said. “Are you OK to lock the front gate?” He always stayed behind, his work days longer than anyone else’s. As though he couldn’t fully relax until he’d checked every single job.
“Sure,” he said, trying to make out the chalet room configurations in the encroaching darkness.
I buttoned up my coat as the bracing winds took hold. Kai looked downright spellbound. Surely it wasn’t just the chalets prompting such a reaction? “What is it?” I asked. “You look like you’ve found Wonderland.”
“I have found Wonderland. I had no idea the chalets were so well appointed. I guess I expected them to be derelict. It won’t take much to get them ready for guests, just the usual safety checks, and a few modernizations.”
With twenty chalets on the property, it wasn’t viable for me right then, as much as I wanted them to be rejuvenated. There was new bedding to consider, mattresses, linen, and décor, as well as the TLC they needed. It would have to wait.
“I know,” I said with a sigh, wishing my funds could stretch that tiny bit further but knowing I couldn’t risk it yet. “There’s also the old stone chapel to do. It’s got the most glorious stained-glass windows that funnel in breathtaking kaleidoscopic colors. It would be perfect for weddings. But for now I have to focus on the lodge itself…”
“When word spreads you’ll be busy here, Clio. This place has a bygone-era feel to it. I’ve traveled a lot, and I haven’t seen anything like this.”
I crossed my fingers, hoping he was right. “I’ve bet my entire fortune that people will want holidays where they learn to tango, take up life drawing, sling on backpacks full of gourmet picnic food supplied by us and hike up into the foothills.”
It was as though I could visualize them: groups huddled by the fire playing cards, mahjongg, bridge, and charades.
“No shopping malls, no tearing around trying to see every single tourist attraction. I think you’re on to something here.”
“I hope guests see it that way. Without sounding like a disgruntled grandparent, I want to go back to a time where people made their own fun. Let’s pray I’m not the only one who thinks it’s a good idea.”
He ran a hand through his tangled, too-long hair. “I’d put money on it but I’m not a gambling type.”
Cedarwood had to offer something unique to draw people to such a small town, and I banked on old-school fun and frivolity. Dances, trekking, water sports on the lake, and games, canasta, bingo nights, pottery in the west wing, and still-life drawing in the east. Language lessons, cooking classes, and singing and theater for those who wanted to perform. Chalets with reinvigorated claw-foot baths and a wall of books for those who wanted peace and quiet. But I needed the numbers in order to hire the staff…
I wanted to recreate that time, that feeling, when holidays were about relaxation, or being awed by the natural beauty of the elements. Having a place where you could do as much or as little as you liked. The entire train of thought made me realize again just how much work I had to do on the marketing front. I took my phone from my pocket and snapped a picture of Kai standing by the front door of the chalet. Social media would eat him up. “Mind if I post this online?” I indicated to the photo.
“Sure, go ahead.”
With deft fingers I posted the pic with the description: Our project manager Kai at one of the #CedarwoodLodgeChalets before renovations.
“Why did the lodge close?” he asked, arms folded as he leaned against the balustrade.
I lifted a shoulder. “As far as I can tell, they struggled through wartime, and recessions, and I guess they never really recovered financially. The husband left first and then the wife, for reasons unknown, and not long after she closed the place down.”
“Why’d he leave her?”
I clucked my tongue. “That part is a little hazy. I was too young
