Home To Family

CHAPTER FOUR

THE REALIZATION that her feet were freezing brought Leslie back to the present. She checked her watch. She’d been standing—lost in those early memories—on the snowy trail that led down to Lightning Lake for twenty minutes. She turned and trekked back up the path, recognizing this small side trip to the lake as a subconscious delaying tactic.

Why should she delay entering the lodge? The Matt D’Angelo she knew had never been the type to hold a grudge. If he was upset about last night, he’d say so, and they’d talk it out.

But that’s your real fear, isn’t it? What if he’s not the Matt D’Angelo you know anymore?

The sort of thing he’d been through last year could change even the strongest person.

She drew a deep breath. With renewed determination she turned away from those uncertainties. They’d been friends too long to let something like this spoil everything.

Halfway up the trail, Leslie encountered Tessa D’Angelo.

Last year Nick’s daughter, full of adolescent high spirits and hormonal confusion, had inflicted a great deal of worry on the family, but she seemed to have settled down considerably since her father had married Kari. She was normally cheerful and upbeat, but this morning she wasn’t smiling.

“Good morning,” Leslie said as the teenager approached.

“Nothing good about it,” Tessa replied.

“What’s wrong?”

“If you’re smart, you’ll turn around and head back down the mountain right now before it’s too late.”

“Why?”

Tessa jerked her head toward the lodge entrance. “World War Three is about to break out in there between Nonno Sam and Mr. Waxman.”

Leslie gave her a surprised look. Sam D’Angelo had been friends with Leo Waxman, the town electrician, for years. Both men served on the town council together, and she knew that Sam and his wife, Rose, were godparents to Leo’s son. “But they’re like brothers.”

“Yeah, well, that was before a chipmunk somehow got in the back door and Mr. Waxman’s German shepherd chased it all over the place and destroyed everything in its path. It looks like someone took a chainsaw to the lobby.”

Leslie noticed that Tessa gingerly cradled a dish towel in her arms, and suddenly the material moved. “Is that it?” Leslie asked.

As though the chipmunk wanted to acknowledge her interest, it squeaked softly.

“Yep. Poor thing is scared to death, but it will chill out once I let it go down by the lake. I just wish it hadn’t climbed up the Christmas tree.”

“Not the big one in the lobby?” Leslie said, almost in a whisper.

“That’s the one.”

Leslie’s eyes widened. After all these years she knew the D’Angelo family Christmas traditions very well. Sam D’Angelo’s hunt for the perfect blue spruce—one for the lobby and one for the family’s private quarters—was treated like a mission handed to him by God. And Rose spent hours decorating them, insisting that every ornament be hung just right, that every light be held erect with a pipe cleaner so that it stood like a candle.

“The tree fell over,” Tessa continued. “Dad and Uncle Matt are trying to get it to stand again, but I think it’s a goner.” She placed a gentle hand on top of the towel, as though offering comfort to the little creature inside. “Really, if you were a chipmunk being chased by a big dog, wouldn’t you head up the nearest tree to escape? And it’s not like it planned to come into the lodge. It was probably looking for somewhere out of the cold.”

“Let’s just hope it’s the only chipmunk with that idea.”

“Don’t even think it,” Tessa said, starting off down the path again. “Good luck. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The chaos Tessa had described met Leslie when she entered the lobby. The Christmas tree, which topped out at twelve feet so it wouldn’t be dwarfed by the high, beamed ceiling, was awkwardly being held upright by Nick. Leo Waxman hung on to the collar of his excited dog, who barked repeatedly at nothing in particular. Kari and Rose D’Angelo were picking up fallen ornaments. Broken tree limbs dangled, raining needles everywhere. Decorations swung back and forth on the tree as though trapped in a gentle wind.

Leslie caught sight of Matt on the floor, half-hidden by the limbs. He was on his stomach, trying to replant the tree in its stand and evidently meeting with little success. The massive spruce tipped every time Nick loosened his hold.

“Can’t you make that beast be quiet?” Sam D’Angelo growled at Leo from his wheelchair. He held a cardboard box on his lap, filled with broken ornaments.

“He’s excited,” Leo explained, stroking his dog’s head to no avail. “When that damned thing came charging at me, he thought I was being attacked. He’s trained to protect me.”

“From a rodent no bigger than your fist?” Sam exclaimed in disgust. “That dog is blind as well as stupid.”

“Brutus isn’t to blame if—”

“Leo!” Rose spoke up. “Take the dog outside. Sam, sit there and be silent. Shouting at one another doesn’t help.” As Leo hurried out the front door with Brutus, Matt’s mother caught sight of Leslie and nodded. “Hello, Leslie. As you can see, we’ve lost a little of the Christmas spirit this morning.”

“I heard. Anything I can do to help?”

“Can you grab one end of this?” Kari said from the side of a huge leather couch that sat in front of the fireplace. “I think some ornaments rolled under it.”

Hearing her request, Nick stopped fiddling with the tree and stuck his head around the spreading limbs to shake his head at his wife. “No, you don’t. You’re not lifting the couch. With or without someone’s help.” He threw an irritable glance toward the floor, where Matt was groaning now under the effort of trying to wedge the tree back in the stand. “Come on, Matt. What’s taking so long? Trade places with me if you can’t manage it.”

“Damn it. Just give me a minute,” Matt called up at him.

That impatient cross exchange made Leslie realize that the brothers were out of sorts with one another. Did Nick think he could make a faster job of it? Was a lack of dexterity and strength in Matt’s left hand making him feel as though he wasn’t up to the task? Or was it all just the frustration of the situation?

Rose picked up a delicate-looking silver sleigh ornament and saw that one of the runners dangled. She made a little sound of distress. “This was given to me when I was a little girl,” she said. “By my grandmother.”