Christmas In Icicle Falls

Thank you, Brandon. About the last thing Olivia wanted was her daughter-in-law showing off her lack of social graces at the front desk. “That’s kind of you to offer, but you don’t need to.”

“Hey, I’m family, right? Gotta pitch in. Anyway, I think it will be fun to help people check in and out.”

“Meadow, I’m not sure that particular job would be a fit for you.”

Meadow’s sunny expression clouded over. “Why? It can’t be that hard. And I’m not stupid,” she added. “I did two quarters at Seattle Community College.”

“It’s not a matter of intelligence,” Olivia said. “It’s a matter of fit.”

Olivia could hardly say she thought Meadow was uncouth. She was about to finesse the truth with a little speech about how different temperaments were suited for different jobs, but Meadow dashed in a literal direction before she could get the words out.

“Fit for what? Oh, clothes?”

Olivia grabbed on the flimsy excuse. “You do need a dirndl.”

“Like what you’ve got on.” Meadow made a face.

“This is a German-themed town. Business owners dress the part,” Olivia said firmly. And if a certain ripped-jeans wearer didn’t want to do that, it wasn’t Olivia’s fault.

Meadow ditched the frown and shrugged. “Okay, then. I’m up for it. How about we go get one today?”

Olivia tried a new tack. “Are you sure you want to do this? Manning the booth requires a certain amount of...” couth “...patience and diplomacy.”

“Sure,” Meadow said. Brandon chose that moment to come inside and she called, “Hey, babe. I’m gonna learn how to work the front desk.”

“You’ll be great,” he called back.

Olivia sincerely doubted it. Here was proof positive that love was blind.

She’d give the girl a chance, though. Everyone deserved a chance. But if Meadow got lippy with a customer, she’d be back to bussing tables.

The lodge wasn’t that busy and check-in wasn’t until three. Das Dorf, which carried all manner of German items, including dirndls, was open on Tuesdays. Irmgard Schultz, the owner, would be more than happy to help Olivia outfit Meadow.

“All right,” Olivia said. “How about we go after lunch?”

And with that it was settled, so at one in the afternoon Olivia and Meadow walked into the German shop that sat right in the middle of Center Street, the main drag, where some of the town’s most popular shops could be found.

“I haven’t been in here yet,” Meadow said as they entered the shop. “Whoa, look at these.” They were barely in the store when she stopped in front of a display case filled with Hummel figurines. “Look at that cute one with the umbrella—wow.” This was quickly followed by wide eyes and a muttered “Shit.”

“What?” Olivia asked.

“Those things are expensive,” Meadow whispered, pointing to the price tag at the figurine’s feet.

“Hummels are. You have expensive tastes.”

“I guess. Who knew I had such good taste? Well, except that I picked Brandon. He’s got a lot of class.”

Something you either had or you didn’t, and Meadow didn’t. She had, however, shown good taste in marrying Brandon. There was no denying that.

Irmgard came toward them now. She was in her late sixties, with a round face and an equally round figure to match. Her light brown hair was ratted into a style left over from the early ’60s and she wore a green dirndl.

“Olivia, it’s been ages,” she said. “And who is this with you?”

“This is my new daughter-in-law, Meadow.”

“Ah, I heard Brandon got married. Such a lovely girl,” she said, looking Meadow up and down. “But much too skinny. Don’t worry, though. Your mother-in-law can make strudel almost as good as mine. She’ll get some meat on your bones in no time.”

Meadow’s brows shot up. “Uh, thanks. I think.”

“We need a dirndl for Meadow. She’s going to be helping out at the lodge,” Olivia explained.

“Of course she is. Families stick together.”

A not-so-subtle message from the universe?

“Well, they should, anyway,” Irmgard continued. “My daughter—” here Irmgard gave a sorry shake of the head “—she married a man from Texas. Texas, can you imagine? It’s so hot down there. And they all speak with an accent,” she added in her clipped Germanized English. “Now it’s only me here. Olivia, you don’t know how lucky you are to have both your boys with you. And now a new daughter-in-law. Oh, how I wish my Alfred would get married and move up here.”

Be careful what you wish for.

“And now that you’re working at the lodge, you’re truly part of the family,” Irmgard said to Meadow. “So, let’s see what we can find you. I think something in blue. Don’t you, Olivia? Blondes always look pretty in blue.”

“Yes, blue,” Olivia agreed.

“What size are you? I’m guessing a six?”

Meadow nodded and trailed Irmgard over to a rack of dresses. A few moments later she had an armful and Irmgard had sent her to a changing room.

“What a lovely girl,” she said to Olivia.

“She’s very pretty,” Olivia agreed.

“And so sweet—and wanting to help out with the family business. Ah, you are so lucky.”

She’s right, Olivia reminded herself. Both her boys were back home. She had one daughter-in-law who was perfect and another who...wanted to be here. That counted for a lot. So what if that daughter-in-law wasn’t exactly her cup of cocoa? Meadow loved Brandon and wanted to be part of things. Surely that balanced out laziness, crudeness and a lack of tact.

The little dressing room curtain parted and out stepped Meadow in the blue dirndl, a very odd match with her overdyed hair and the butterfly tat that soared up over the neckline.

“Oh, doesn’t she look pretty?” gushed Irmgard.

“I look stupid,” Meadow muttered, pulling at one of the puffy sleeves.

This was not the time to agree with her daughter-in-law. “You’ve got the perfect figure for that dress,” Olivia said. It was true. Meadow was slim and pretty in her own flamboyant way. “But maybe you’d like a different color.”

Meadow looked like she’d just eaten a rotten nut. “I don’t think that’ll make any difference.”

“We can find other things for you to do at the lodge if you don’t want to wear it,” Olivia offered. She could tell Brandon she’d tried. Meadow didn’t want to wear the dress.

“No, no,” Meadow said quickly. “I’ll get it.”