Christmas In Icicle Falls

Olivia had to admire her for her willingness to step outside her comfort zone just to be part of the family operation. Give her a chance. She might surprise you. “All right. It really does look beautiful.”

A few moments later Meadow was back in her clothing comfort zone and Olivia was pulling out her credit card to purchase the dirndl. “Actually, we’d better get two so you have one to wear when that one’s getting washed.”

“Okay,” Meadow said. “But I’m paying.”

“Oh, no. This is my treat.”

“I really don’t mind. Anyway, I’ve got some money left from my mom’s—um, that my mom gave me.”

Interesting. What had she been about to say? Her mom’s what?

“What a good daughter-in-law,” said Irmgard.

“Let me buy these for you,” Olivia said to Meadow. As if buying a couple of dresses would make up for her unmotherly attitude.

“No, I’ve got it,” Meadow insisted and handed over three large bills. “I’ll take the red one, too.”

Mission accomplished, the two women drove back to the lodge. “Thanks for taking me,” Meadow said.

“Not much thanks needed since you wound up paying for the dresses yourself.” Olivia really should have insisted on paying for them.

“It’s okay,” Meadow said. “I didn’t mind. And now when we get back, I can work the front desk,” she added cheerfully.

“This will be a good day to start,” Olivia said. Check-in time was right around the corner and they had some guests arriving that afternoon. It being early in the week, there wouldn’t be so many that Meadow would get overwhelmed as she learned the ropes.

If Meadow could master some social graces, it would be good to have an extra pair of hands. Now that December had arrived, the lodge was going to be full on weekends clear into the New Year.

So would every B and B and motel in town. This was peak tourist season thanks, in part, to a yearly town tradition that had quickly become a tourist attraction. Now, every weekend during the month of December Icicle Falls hosted a tree-lighting ceremony and people came from all over the country to join the locals to watch the big tree in the center of town and all the surrounding buildings come alive with colored lights. The ceremony preceding the big moment was usually brief, but people loved it since it included caroling and a visit from Santa, who had plenty of grown-up helper elves on hand to pass out mini candy canes to all the children. The partying started well before the ceremony began, with vendors selling everything from roasted nuts to hot chocolate, local artisans displaying their works and, of course, a German oompah band playing. Skaters enjoyed the little ice rink in the town-center park, while shoppers swarmed the specialty shops and restaurants. It was a mob scene, with the streets and sidewalks packed, but that didn’t stop people from coming in droves. And the residents of Icicle Falls welcomed it because it kept their local economy humming.

It didn’t take Meadow long to change into her new dress and when she reported for duty at the desk, she was smiling. “Brandon thinks I look hot in this,” she announced, clearly feeling much more confident in the outfit than she had in the store.

“Well, that’s...good,” Olivia said. For such a slender little thing Meadow certainly had cleavage and, yes, the low-cut neckline showed it to advantage.

“So, what do I have to do?” Meadow asked.

“Make sure you swipe the guests’ credit cards when they come in. We don’t charge them until checkout but we keep the card information. We have our guests fill out this little form with contact information and their driver’s licenses. Each couple or family checking in gets two room-key cards. Oh, and we always tell them the hours breakfast is served.”

“I can handle that.”

“And, of course, we greet everyone with a smile. If a guest has a complaint, we’re always sympathetic. We never get upset.”

Meadow frowned. “I know what you’re thinking about. It’s not like I spilled gravy on that man on purpose. Sheesh. He was a shit.”

“I know. Sometimes people can be unreasonable. But we’re in a service industry. Serve is what we do. Our job here is to keep our guests happy. So, if anyone ever comes to the desk with a complaint you feel you can’t handle, don’t get upset with them—just come find me. Okay?”

Meadow nodded. “Fine with me. I don’t like dealing with shits.”

Hopefully, no shits would cross Meadow’s path when she was on duty. Olivia vowed right then to limit her time at the desk as much as possible.

Their first guests arrived right at three o’clock, the official check-in time. They were a middle-aged couple, the woman bundled in a faux-fur coat, leggings and boots, her silver hair stylishly cut. Her husband, swarthy and handsome, wore a parka and jeans.

“Fortelli,” he said, stepping up to the desk. “We’re booked for the week.”

Meadow smiled at him. “Nice to have you, Mr. Fortelli.”

Mrs. Fortelli, who was standing right next to him, frowned.

“And Mrs. Fortelli, too,” Olivia added.

“Oh. Yeah. Of course,” Meadow said and gave the missus a smile, as well. The missus almost returned it.

“So,” Meadow said briskly, shoving a form at him, “give us your car license number and all that good stuff. And we’ll need your credit card. But don’t worry. We won’t charge you until you leave.” The man handed over his credit card. “Fortelli, that’s a cool name. It’s, like, Italian, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” he said.

“Have you been to Italy?” she asked, and Olivia felt rather pleased with Meadow’s attempt at pleasant small talk.

“Several times,” said Mr. Fortelli.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Italy,” Meadow said. “Somebody told me Italian men pinch you,” she added with a grin.

Mr. Fortelli handed back the completed form. “Italian men do appreciate beautiful women,” he said. Now there wasn’t even a hint of a smile on Mrs. Fortelli’s face.

“Oh, yeah? Then I definitely need to go. Make my guy jealous.” Meadow dealt efficiently with the credit card, then handed it back. She leaned on the desk, giving Mr. Fortelli a close-up view of Butterfly Mountain. “So what’s the best city to go to in Italy? Where would you tell me to go?”

“To a guidebook,” the missus said, her voice frosty.

They were wandering far from standard check-in procedure at this point. “How about getting the Fortellis’ key cards, Meadow?”

“Oh, yeah.” Meadow straightened up but Mr. Fortelli remained fixated on her boobs.

“So, are you folks are up here from Seattle?” Olivia asked, hoping to distract him.

“We are,” the husband said, making himself the official spokesperson for the Fortelli family.

“Is it your first time here in Icicle Falls?” Olivia asked his wife.

“Yes, it is,” the woman said, frowning at Meadow.

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. We have some wonderful shops and restaurants. And Currier’s Tree Farm offers sleigh rides.”

“They do? I’m so making Brandon take me on one,” put in Meadow. “I bet you’d like a sleigh ride, huh, Mr. Fortelli.”