Grandma Janie’s system was pencil and paper. The sheet of paper looked like aTetrisgame. Like everything at the inn, her system was as old as, well, the hills at the base of Sugar Mountain. A computer booking system would be much more efficient, but GJ’s acceptance of technology was even less open than her consideration of new items for the breakfast menu.
I set down the croissant. My skirt swished as I swung around behind the desk to peer over GJ’s shoulder. “What ifwe move this room here.” I pointed to a square that had been erased so many times the paper was almost transparent.
“I tried that.” GJ set down the pencil. “It’s booked with the Mullins, they’re coming in for Christmas Eve and have requested that room.
Biting my lip, I slid the paper over so I could take a better look at it. GJ was right, even though the inn wasn’t booked, the configuration of rooms wasn’t going to work for the guests coming in for the holidays. “How did this happen?” GJ was meticulous with her room assignments and a mistake like this was extremely unlike her.
GJ took the pencil from my hand. “I’ll figure it out.” She pointed to the croissant with the eraser end of the pencil, which was almost gone. “What are you doing with that?”
“I noticed that you didn’t have breakfast this morning, I thought that you might be hungry.”
“There’s been a lot going on here, dear. I’m so glad that you’re here to help us out, I don’t know what we would do without you.”
“You wouldn’t eat. That’s what.” I handed the plate to her.
She picked up the croissant and took a bite, washing it down with the black coffee that looked like it had been cold for hours. “My goodness. What is in this?” She pulled down her round glasses to peer at the Saint Nick.
“It’s goat cheese and Clementine’s haskap berry jam.” I held my breath as GJ took another bite.
“What does Eugene call this?” She licked the pastry flakes from her fingertips and then wiped her hands with the napkin.
“He’s calling it an…”don’t say orgasm, don’t say orgasm, “a Saint Nick.”
“Like Christmas.” GJ balled up the linen napkin and set it on the plate. “I have an idea.” She held up her finger. “What if Eugene does a special every day leading up to Christmas, and we name it something to do with the holidays? I know thatyou two have been pushing to get his experiments on the menu.”
“Really?” My lips wanted my smile to be huge, but I held them back. GJ had walked right into my trap. The only way change was going to happen at the inn was if GJ thought that the ideas were her own.
“On one condition.” She swiped the eraser and croissant crumbs from the desk. “I get to approve the experiment a day in advance. Tomorrow, the Saint Nicholas can be the breakfast special.”
Eugene was going to be thrilled. “It’s the Saint Nick.”
“Nicholas.” GJ returned her glasses to the bridge of her nose, the strings that attached to the arms were Christmas lights, but she only connected the tiny battery at nighttime. No sane person turns Christmas lights on during the day, was her response when I mentioned to her that they were not lit up.
“All right. The Saint Nicholas will be on the menu tomorrow.” I cleared away the plate.
“Make sure you spell out Saint. I don’t want any abbreviations on the board.”
“For someone whose name is an abbreviation, you sure do have a lot of rules about them.” I shimmied out from behind the desk.
“It’s taking all of my strength not to call you Evelyn, Evie.” She grinned. “Oh. I almost forgot. You have the rest of the day off.”
I paused at the French doors that led to the dining room. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been working so hard, you haven’t had a chance to see any of the Christmas Carnival events. You also said that you wanted some ski lessons with Clementine. I’ve arranged for her to give you a lesson.” She pointed to the grandfather clock, the heartbeat of the inn that I had to windevery day. “You’d better get going, she’s going to meet you at the chalet at noon.”
“GJ. It’s ten thirty.” I pulled out the skirt of my dress. “And, I don’t have any ski clothes.”
She grinned. “I thought that might be your excuse.”
The door to the first-floor hallway opened and Eddie wheeled in a brass luggage cart. Hanging from the bar was a one-piece snowsuit that looked like it was made from purple tinfoil.
GJ clapped her hands together. “I knew you would find it.” She hustled out from behind the desk and pulled the snowsuit from its hanger. “This is mine. I think it will fit you perfectly. I was a lot taller in the eighties.”
Hand-knit mittens hung on strings from the sleeves of the one-piece snowsuit. GJ unbuckled a suitcase and pulled out a matching hand-knit hat with a pompom the size of a softball. “Clementine will meet you at the rental shop. Apparently, my skis and boots are, what’s the word she used…obsolete, but back in my day all we had was a rope tow, so I guess things have changed.”
I couldn’t help myself from rubbing the fabric of the snowsuit between my fingers. “Is this, rubber?” It was slippery, but felt durable, like a fisherman’s rain slicker, but somehow thinner.
“Nylon.” GJ smiled. “Don’t get too close to a fire.”
