Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

For the first time in years, Margo turned into the driveway of The Mistletoe Inn.

The drive had been fine. Once again, her trusty Subaru had gotten her from Jersey to her destination—in this case, Vermont—with no trouble at all. Her mother had seemed surprised that she wasn't flying, but she'd actually been looking forward to the drive. It had felt like a good opportunity to get her thoughts in order, and mentally prepare herself to go home and see her family for the first time in so long. The short flight, she thought, wouldn't have been enough.

The inn looked just as she remembered it. It had snowed, giving the entire place a cozy, picturesque look that would have fit perfectly on a Christmas card. It was fully decorated outside for the holidays, with lights strung across the wraparound porch, garlands around the stairs and railing, reindeer in the snow, and a snowman. Inside was probably decorated to the nines as well, Margo thought as she turned off the car, glimpsing the twinkle of lights from a tree near one of the large windows. Her mother had always decorated as soon as the Thanksgiving holidays were over, and she wasn't at all surprised to find that Rhonda was sticking with that tradition.

It was beautiful. She could admit that, even if she was already beginning to feel her stomach knot with anxiety at the idea of being home again. The inn looked cozy and rustic, and everything that a Vermont cabin at Christmastime should be.

She jumped a little as the front door opened, letting out a warm glow of buttery light, and her mother stepped out onto the porch.

Margo swallowed hard, and got out of the car.

"You're here!" Rhonda called out, starting toward the steps. Margo almost called out for her to wait—she knew her mother had had a hip replacement several years ago, and she worried about her on the potentially icy stairs—but Rhonda was already halfway down them before Margo could say anything. "How was the drive?"

"Not bad." Margo swallowed again, past the sudden lump in her throat, and walked toward her mother to give her a quick hug. Rhonda, at least, looked happy to see her. She didn't see any sign of Caroline, but she knew her older sister couldn't be far off. Caroline didn't take days off from the inn, which meant she was somewhere handling some aspect of it.

Or maybe not. She remembered coming home earlier in the year to a wedding invitation for Caroline. She'd been shocked that her sister had met someone. She remembered Caroline as always being wholly uninterested in dating, completely caught up in the inn and her responsibilities. Married to it, really, for all intents and purposes.

But according to the invite that Margo had gotten, Caroline had met an absolutely gorgeous man and gotten engaged in a bit of a whirlwind relationship. The second of her sisters to do so, actually.

She'd been home when Nora's wedding invitation had come in the mail the year before that, but she'd had an assignment in Madrid that weekend, a full two months that she was supposed to be in Spain. So she'd had to send her apologies, and tell Nora she was excited to see pictures. She'd seen tons of photos from Nora's wedding on her sister's Instagram page. Moving back home hadn't affected Nora's affinity for carefully curated social media spaces at all. But Caroline still had a flip phone, if Margo remembered correctly. So she had no idea what that wedding had been like.

Still, she'd missed both of them. Another mark against her, even if both times had been for work. And it occurred to her that Caroline, for the first time, might not be bustling around the inn. Surely she lived somewhere else now, and hadn't just moved her new husband in.

"It's freezing." Rhonda squeezed her daughter tightly again, jolting Margo out of her thoughts. "Grab your bags, and come in. I just took a pecan pie out of the oven, and I'll put some coffee on."

"Pie?" Margo raised an eyebrow. "It's nine in the morning, Mom."

"That's not too early for pie. I was up at five baking anyway. These last two seasons the inn has been absolutely packed —thanks to Nora, by the way, and Caroline executing her plan so well—and now that Caroline doesn't live at home anymore, I've had to be on top of the baking. Can't have the guests missing out." Rhonda beamed, and Margo forced a smile.

Well, that answered her question about Caroline's new living arrangements, at least.

"I'll get my things." She went around to the back of the car, opening the hatch and using it as an opportunity to gather herself. She'd always thought of Evergreen Hollow as a sleepy, slow-moving place, frozen in time. In many ways, it had been, and she imagined it still was. But there were clearly parts of life that were moving along just fine, and she was suddenly struck with how much she'd missed. She'd had the idea that she would come home and everything would be just as she left it, but that clearly wasn't true.

Nora had come home and apparently re-integrated herself into the family so smoothly that she was helping with the inn now too. It sounded like there had been a lull in business that she'd helped reinvigorate. And both Margo's sisters were married. Caroline had found her own sense of purpose outside of the inn.

Just when her own life had come to a sudden, shrieking halt, everyone else appeared to be moving along just fine. She felt that knot of anxiety in her stomach tighten, anticipating the potential of pity from her sisters. She had always been the one with the exciting, globe-trotting life. Now she was crawling home with her tail between her legs, and the last thing she wanted was to be the object of her family's pity.

Letting out a sharp sigh, her breath puffing in the air in front of her, Margo slung her duffel bag over her shoulder and followed her mother inside.

The moment she stepped into the living room, she was instantly struck with a sense of déjà vu, wrapped in an aching feeling of nostalgia that she hadn't had in a long time. The room smelled of cinnamon and the faint, sugary scents of baked goods, a whiff of ham and egg quiche mixed in.

The living room was bright with Christmas decorations, exactly as she had expected, and she heard the chatter of guests from the dining room, having their breakfast. A quick glance past the open wood-and-glass double doors that led into the room told her that Rhonda had been right about the inn being packed. Every seat at the long dining table was full.

She wasn't surprised to hear that Nora had come up with a business plan to help the inn. Her business acumen had always been good, and combined with Caroline's steadfast dedication to making sure The Mistletoe Inn endured over the years, they would likely be unstoppable.

She felt another small twist in her chest, realizing how much had happened while she'd been gone.

"Here." Rhonda led Margo into the kitchen, which smelled warmly of muffins, pie, and the breakfast quiche. "Just set your bag down there for now. I'll get the coffee on, and then we'll get you settled in after your sisters get here. I'm sure they're excited to see you."

She felt a quiver of anxiety at that. She wasn't nearly as certain. "I can always get a room somewhere the next town over, if you're too full here," Margo offered. "I don't want to take up space that someone could be paying for."

"Nonsense." Rhonda shook her head, pouring coffee grounds into a filter. "Caroline's room has been empty ever since she moved out. I thought about converting it into another guest room, but it's just down the hall from your father's and my room, and that's a little closer than I like guests to be. So we haven't decided just yet. It's a perfectly good extra room for you to stay in when you come to visit."

Margo couldn't help hearing the pointed note in her mother's voice, which sounded very much like a suggestion that, now that she'd finally made the trek home, maybe she would find it within herself to do so more often. But she didn't want to make any promises just yet. It all felt too uncertain, like poking at a bruise to see just how deep it went.

Silence fell over the kitchen for several long minutes while Rhonda made coffee, and Margo shifted uneasily in her chair, glancing out the window. For all that things had definitely changed since she'd been home last, some things had also very much stayed the same. The kitchen, and all its furnishings and dishes, was exactly as she remembered it. The view out of the window by the small breakfast nook was the same, looking out at the snowy backyard and the maples in the distance, the pens with the chickens and goats just off to the right. There was a small, roped-off area with a sign that Margo didn't remember, and she frowned.

"What's that? Are you building a new enclosure for animals or something?"

Rhonda glanced out of the window in the direction Margo was pointing as she poured the coffee, and laughed. "Oh, no," she said, setting down the mugs and going to the refrigerator for creamer. "Caroline's stepson has a bit of an obsession with fossils. Someone put it into his head that there are some buried in our backyard. So Caroline roped off a ‘dig site' for him, so he'd have his own space to play in and not put holes all over the yard."

Margo couldn't help the way her brows shot up at that. She'd never imagined her sister having any patience with children, especially not a little terror who ran around digging up Caroline's carefully tended backyard. Margo couldn't picture Caroline having patience with anyone who damaged the inn or its grounds in any way.

Rhonda chuckled again, clearly seeing Margo's expression as she brought the coffee, creamer, and two slices of pecan pie to the table. "I know what you're thinking. But Caroline really has softened up a lot. Nora coming home helped. And then after she met Rhett and Jay…" Rhonda shrugged, a soft smile on her face. "She's really grown into being a wife and stepmother. I think it's good for her, having something that matters outside of this place. It's helped her a lot."

Margo nodded, once again feeling that lump in her throat. She reached for the creamer, pouring several slugs of it into her coffee until it was a light tan, and handed it back to her mother, who smiled indulgently at her.

"You always did like a little coffee with your creamer."

Margo tried to force a smile back onto her face, but it was hard. She felt out of place, uncertain, and she wondered if this had been a good idea at all.

Maybe she should have just taken off to California for a few weeks, gotten some sun. A flight to Mexico, maybe. But her savings weren't that prolific, and she'd known coming home was a better move until she had a plan. She'd always focused on living in the moment, enjoying every possible experience while she was on location for work, and she didn't regret it. But it did mean that she didn't have the nest egg she probably should have.

"So." Rhonda cut a bite of pie. "What happened with the magazine?"

"I didn't get fired." The words came out faster than she could think, and more defensive than she meant for them to, a knee-jerk reaction that she couldn't stop. But it felt so sensitive. She'd worked so hard, and hadn't done anything wrong—even Richard had made that clear. But she'd lost the job anyway.

Gently, Rhonda placed a hand over hers. "I wasn't thinking that at all, sweetheart," she said calmly. "I just wanted to know what happened, that's all. I know how devoted you were to that job."

Margo nodded, biting her lip. "I'm sorry. I'm a little on edge about seeing Nora and Caroline again, I think," she admitted. "I feel like they're going to hold how long it's been against me. I know I haven't talked to anyone that much."

Rhonda let out a soft sigh. "Just give it time," she advised. "They might be a bit on edge too. But everything will smooth over soon enough, once things settle down. You coming home out of the blue was a surprise to everyone. A good one," she added quickly. "But let them adjust a little to you being here again."

Margo let out a breath, taking a bite of the pie. It was just as good as she remembered, crunchy pecans and the sweet, sticky pie beneath, with the flaky crust that only her mother could make. It went perfectly with the coffee and the cinnamon creamer, and she had to admit that pie for breakfast wasn't really a bad idea at all.

"I wasn't fired," she repeated. "I was laid off."

"Why?" Rhonda sat back, sipping her coffee. "Company problems?"

Margo nodded. "I guess it had been going on for a while, I just didn't pay enough attention. Or take it seriously enough, I guess. I was in Egypt, doing a piece, and I saw some comments in the work chat, a few emails I don't think I was really supposed to be a part of. If I'd looked at it more, I probably wouldn't have been so blindsided. But I'd come back home, figuring it was all fine, with a new pitch for my boss and plans of being in the Caribbean on assignment for Christmas. Turns out, they had budget cuts and I was one of the ones being let go."

"That's not your fault," Rhonda said reassuringly. "You couldn't do anything about that."

"I know." Margo stabbed at the pie with her fork, scooping up another bite. "It doesn't make it feel better though. I loved that job. And actual magazine jobs are getting harder and harder to come by. It's not going to be easy, replacing it. I might have to do something else for a while."

She felt her chest tighten at the thought, disappointment and a faint sense of dread flooding through her all over again. Both feelings had been lingering beneath the surface ever since Richard had given her the news, ready to crop up at any moment. "This is just going to be for a few days," she said, looking up at her mother. "Just while I think about what my next move is."

"You can stay as long as you—oh, there are your sisters." Rhonda stood up, flashing Margo a reassuring smile before going to meet Nora and Caroline in the living room.

Margo tensed, setting her fork down as she heard footsteps approaching. But every other thought fled from her mind as Nora and Caroline walked in, and she saw Nora's bump.

"What?" She exclaimed before she could stop herself, staring wide-eyed at Nora. "I—I—how did I not know about something this important? You're pregnant ?"

"I am," Nora said wryly, but Caroline broke in before Nora could say anything else.

"Well, we haven't heard from you in six months." She shrugged. "It would've been hard to tell you about something that I didn't even know about yet the last time we talked."

It was impossible to miss the bite in her voice. Margo winced, and Rhonda immediately interrupted.

"I have pecan pie. Margo already has a piece, does anyone else want one?"

"Sure." Nora sank down into a chair, Caroline following suit as she accepted the offer too. But it was very clear, Margo thought, that no one was actually thinking about pie.

Caroline looked exactly as she remembered. Dark hair with a smattering of grays pulled back into a low ponytail, no-nonsense jeans and a flannel shirt buttoned over a plain t-shirt.

Nora, on the other hand, was still sleek and put-together, but much more dressed-down compared to the designer-wear business casual that Margo remembered from the last time she'd seen her sister. Nora was wearing skinny jeans and a long red cable-knit sweater, her hair up in a messy bun and not a speck of makeup. She still looked flawless—it was innate for her, Margo thought—but she looked like she belonged in the picturesque coziness of Evergreen Hollow, not in the fast-paced world of Boston any longer.

Margo was the only one, it seemed, who felt out of place.

"So, what's the plan?" Caroline asked, looking at Margo. "Mom said something about the magazine letting you go."

Margo bit back her instant defensive response. "Laid off," she said, still a little more curtly than she meant to. "Budget cuts. Figuring out a plan is why I came here for a few days. I thought it was as good a time as any to take advantage of the chance to come home, and decide what to do next."

Caroline made a small hm sound, and Margo bit her lip. Caroline hadn't said anything outwardly disapproving, but she thought she could practically feel it wafting off her, and Nora hadn't said anything at all.

It felt like there was a clear disconnect among all of them, and no one quite knew what to say. The silence hung heavy and awkward in the air as Rhonda brought the slices of pie, sitting back down at the table with her daughters.

"Does anyone want to fill me in on what's been going on around Evergreen Hollow?" Margo asked, just to break the tension. "I'm so sorry I missed your weddings. Work was really busy, and the assignments were very demanding, so I couldn't get away. But I wish I could've been there to celebrate with you."

She paused, sure that she could hear the unspoken thoughts in the air. You missed these important events, and what good did it do you anyway? You still lost your job.

"It's okay," Nora said quietly. "We understand. But you were definitely missed, I can tell you that."

Margo nodded, biting her lip. "So, catch me up on what else I missed. What have you both been up to?"

Nora smiled, cutting into her piece of pie, and began to regale Margo with a story from last Christmas, telling her about the house she'd bought with Aidan just after they were married and an apparent kerfuffle involving a chandelier.

Margo listened, a little stunned as her sister went on about the difficulties of getting an Art Deco chandelier shipped to Evergreen Hollow, and how the community had ended up donating a bunch of glass trinkets to handmake a chandelier before Nora's Christmas party instead. And she told it, Margo realized, with the same enthusiasm that she'd once heard her sister describe successfully pulling off an event for a billionaire's daughter's sweet sixteen.

It was, apparently, a perfect segue for Nora and their mother to tell Margo about Caroline's whirlwind romance, which had been started by a faulty smoke detector that had ended up being caused by a poorly wired faux fireplace. Margo nodded along, taking bites of her pie, feeling slightly shell-shocked.

They were telling the stories as if there was nothing odd about it. As if it were all exciting . She could understand some of it, coming from Caroline—after all, bad smoke detectors and a handsome firefighter probably was the most exciting thing that had happened to Caroline in years. But she couldn't grasp how Nora had changed so much. It made her feel even more out of place, seeing her once elegant and ambitious sister now thrilled about a DIY chandelier.

She wanted more than anything to feel at home again. She'd hoped that she might be able to. But she couldn't understand why they were all so happy and content with lives that, to her, seemed so awfully drab.

Margo finished the pie, just as Rhonda started to ask Nora questions about nursery wallpaper. She couldn't stand it any longer, she thought. The kitchen felt small and hot, and her family overwhelming. She needed some fresh air.

"I'm going to go for a walk," she said, standing up and forcing a smile onto her face. "See the sights a little. It's such a pretty day, and it's been so long, you know?"

She didn't think anyone was fooled, but she also couldn't bring herself to care. She grabbed her coat, throwing it on over her sweater, and fled out the back door of the kitchen.

The cold air hit her like a slap in the face after the warmth of the inside of the inn, but she sucked in a deep breath of it, relishing the sting for a moment. She started to walk, wanting to put as much distance as she could between herself and all the feelings that being back in that kitchen with her family had dredged up.

How am I going to survive a few days here?

She'd been hopeful that it wouldn't be so bad, but she already felt trapped. She couldn't fathom how Nora had apparently settled in here so easily, already married with a house and a baby on the way. It wasn't all that long ago that she remembered Nora being engaged to someone else, a longtime boyfriend in Boston. She wondered what had happened there.

But of course, she didn't know. And if she asked, someone—probably Caroline—would point out that it was her fault, for not calling more often and never visiting.

She needed something to keep herself occupied, or she was going to go insane.

Margo kept walking, trying to focus on the feeling of the cold air in her lungs and the crunch of snow under her boots, trying to ground herself. And then she saw a large wooden sign and looked up, the bright lettering catching her eye.

Maple Trail Skiing! Open for the season!

She hadn't been skiing in a long time. Truthfully, she wasn't at all sure she remembered how. But she immediately decided that tomorrow, that would be what she'd devote her day to doing. Something else to focus on, and physical exercise at that, as well as something to do away from the inn.

That, she thought, should clear her mind enough to decide what to do next.

Spencer stepped out of Rockridge Grill, breathing in deeply as he tucked in his scarf. Another perk of the small-town doctor life, not only regular lunch breaks, he thought, but also the ability to get a decent breakfast before his first appointment of the day. Gone were the days of scarfing down a dry muffin and a paper cup of black cafeteria coffee. Instead, he got to start his day with a fresh cup topped off with local creamer, and a hearty omelet. He'd have more energy and better focus, and he definitely enjoyed his days more.

There was the added perk of being close friends with the owner and chef at Rockridge Grill, Jonathan Keller. They'd hit it off almost as soon as Spencer had moved home, and he always enjoyed chatting with Jonathan whenever he came by to eat. It made for a relaxing way to start the morning whenever he didn't have an early appointment; a good breakfast and good conversation with a friend.

As he turned to start walking toward the clinic, he spotted someone he didn't recognize standing next to the skiing sign, looking intently at it. A woman, he saw, who looked very purposeful in the way she was staring at the sign, as if it held some answer she'd been looking for.

She was also very beautiful, Spencer thought. Dark brown hair that she'd braided into buns at the back of her head, and big, wide blue eyes taking in that sign, wrapped up in a cozy-looking sweater and jeans. Someone he definitely would have noticed, if she'd been around prior to this.

Probably a tourist, only here for a few days. But, as he continued on his way, he couldn't help wondering who she was.