Page 18 of Christmas at Pine Ridge Inn
Carol glanced at Sarah for a moment, then cleared her throat softly. “Well, enough of my rambling about old times. Let’s see what everyone else is making!”
The conversation moved on to other topics, but Lila barely heard it. She couldn’t stop imagining a younger Carol, abandoned by her boyfriend and feeling too young to care for a child on her own. Lila had always imagined—or maybe just hoped—that her mother had given her up in some selfless act of care for her. If she simply hadn’t wanted her, why would she have gone to the trouble of sending along the quilt and other items with her? It sounded exactly like something Carol would do.
The afternoon passed in a blur of cutting and stitching and half-heard conversation. Lila managed to complete her simple tree ornament and even started a second one, but her attention remained fixed on Carol. Every word, every gesture, everyinteraction felt like a clue she could decode if she only tried hard enough.
When dinner time arrived, the group reluctantly packed away their craft supplies to make room for the evening meal. Lila barely touched her food, too distracted by the possibility that she might be sitting across the table from her birth mother. Carol seemed to sense her distraction, offering gentle smiles and checking if she needed anything, which only made the sense that they were connected in some way feel even stronger.
After dinner, the group gathered in the lobby to decorate the tree they’d cut that morning. Brady had set it up in the corner by the fireplace, and it stood tall and proud, waiting for their handmade ornaments. The scene was exactly what someone might picture when they thought of a perfect Christmas evening with friends gathered around a beautiful tree, firelight dancing on the walls, the scent of pine filling the air.
Tom began stringing lights while the rest of them organized ornaments. There were the ones they’d made that afternoon, plus boxes of decorations that had clearly accumulated over many years. Some looked handmade by previous guests, others appeared to be family heirlooms, and still others seemed to have stories attached that only Carol and Tom knew.
“Oh, here’s one of my favorites,” Carol said, lifting a delicate glass angel from the tissue paper. “This was made by a guest about fifteen years ago who’d come with her parents for many years. She came the first Christmas after her mother passed and said she could feel her here and wanted to leave this angel behind to watch over the inn.”
Lila’s chest squeezed as she thought of last Christmas with her own mother. She wished she’d known it would be their last. She would have treasured every moment a little more. Remembered more of the stories her mother had told about their ornaments as they hung them. Taken more pictures. Stayed up laterwatching old Christmas movies. But she’d taken it for granted and assumed they’d have another holiday just like it this year. Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them away.
Sarah seemed to notice Lila’s reaction to the ornament and leaned over to whisper, “You okay?”
“Mmm hmm,” Lila said, unable to say more at the risk of bursting into tears. So far, Brady was the only one she’d told about her mother, and she hadn’t really planned to broadcast it to the rest. If they all pitied or fussed over her, it would only make it worse.
Lila managed to distract herself with a debate Ali and Kendall were having over whether the ornament they were holding made by a previous guest was meant to be a wolf or a dog. Carol and Tom shared stories about many of the decorations from previous years, including the beloved guests who’d made them. Kendall was hoping they’d come across something they remembered from their childhood Christmases at the inn, but Kimberly reminded her they’d taken those home to put on their own tree.
Lila was hanging her creations from the day when Kimberly pulled a small ornament from the bottom of one of the boxes. It was tiny, clearly delicate, and when she held it up to the light, Lila could see it was a silver rattle with “Baby’s First Christmas” engraved on it.
Carol looked up from where she was removing another item from the box, her expression shifting to something deeply sad. Tom noticed her stillness and moved to her side, his hand gently touching her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Kimberly said, handing the rattle to Carol. “Is this one personal?”
“In a way,” Carol said, her voice soft. “Sometimes the most important people in our lives are the ones we carry in our hearts rather than hold in our arms.”
Lila was frozen in place, watching as Carol hung the ornament, Tom staying close at her side with his hand on the small of her back in a way that was both protective and comforting.
Carol’s cryptic answer only fueled Lila’s speculation. She wanted to ask more, to push for details, but something in Carol’s expression warned her that this was sacred ground, not to be trespassed upon lightly.
The rest of the ornament hanging continued with slightly subdued energy, the group seeming to sense that Carol and Tom had shared something private and meaningful. When they finally stepped back to admire their work, the tree stood tall and proud in the corner, each ornament catching and reflecting the firelight.
“It’s perfect,” breathed Ali. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful Christmas tree.”
“We make a pretty good team,” agreed Miles, his arm around Sophie’s shoulders.
Brady surveyed their work with satisfaction. “I think this might be our best one yet. What do you think, Carol?”
Carol wiped her eyes once more, then smiled with genuine warmth. “I think it’s perfect. Thank you all for making this so special.”
As the evening wound down and people began drifting toward their rooms, Lila lingered by the tree. The baby ornament caught the light, its silver surface gleaming among the handmade decorations they’d added that day. She found herself staring at it, wondering about its story and about Carol’s reaction.
“Thinking about how we could have decorated it more efficiently?” Brady teased as he appeared beside her.
“Very funny,” she deadpanned. “No, just taking it all in. This trip hasn’t been exactly what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“Honestly? I thought I’d spend the week hiding in my room, avoiding Christmas altogether.” She laughed softly. “Instead, I’m making ornaments and picking trees and feeling like ...”
“Like what?”
“Like maybe I was meant to be here this Christmas.” She paused, considering whether to share the next part. “Like maybe the first Christmas without my mother doesn’t have to be completely miserable.”
Brady’s expression softened. “If it makes you feel any better, I lost both of my parents at the same time, and I survived that first Christmas. In fact, I spent it right here, so I’d say you’re on the right track.” He said it in a light tone, suggesting maybe he was the type that handled sadness with jokes and self-deprecating humor.
