“I did. Trevor gave me the cozy queen bed and slept on the cot you sent up. He’s still snoozing. But I don’t think his restless night had anything to do with the state of his new mattress.”
“Don’t rush him, Mrs. Dristoll. There is a time and season for everything, and God has a plan for his life.”
“No doubt. But it’s a mother’s job to intervene.”
“He is a grown man and will set his own timetable.”
“Oh, you are far too sensible to be so young.” Sandra laughed. “I love it here. Do you have room for me to stay on for a few days after the bus pulls out? I’ve come all this way and find the air here refreshing. I suppose I needed a vacation as desperately as my son. And I love Christmas – despite the fact that my husband went home to heaven on the Eve of the best day of the year.”
“I feel the same way. I wanted to wallow in misery and abandon the hope of the Good News that Jesus brought to mankind but discovered the line impossible to cross. Instead, I cling to it, as a vital link, knowing my parents would at least be pleased to see me overcome that stumbling block.”
“About now, I’d like to knock my son up the side of his head. I’ve known you one day and I love you already.”
Angie hugged the woman. “I will enjoy having you stay on for as long as you like. The next group will not fill the entire Inn, so you can stay in Trevor’s room.”
“Splendid. Shall I leave you to walk alone? I don’t want to intrude,” Sandra asked.
“Not at all. You must visit our town today. The shops are unique, and this entire month Christmas is in full swing.”
“Don’t entice me. A month-long celebration is too much for an old woman to endure.”
“You are far from an old woman.”
“In age, yes. But I like to appear needy at times to keep Trevor on his toes.” After a moment of musing she spoke again. “The write-up in your brochure about the owls is interesting reading.”
“I can take you to the barn this evening if you like? You can meet the Christmas duo in person.”
“Sounds delightful. Has Trevor met them?”
“He never showed when the group went out. Seems to have a disliking for owls,” Angie said.
“I can see where that might present another stumbling block. That boy is sure giving the magic a challenge this week.”
Angie did not pursue the subject any further. The secretive stance that was so evident in her son now consumed the mother, and Angie grew tired of the riddle.
Once back in the office, Angie settled to completing the bookkeeping for the former group. She never liked to fall behind in paperwork further than last week’s guests. In January, she’d succumbed to procrastination, and the task of catching-up had proven overwhelming.
The lunch bell sounded and Angie decided she should make an appearance. It encouraged her staff to feel that the boss was a part of the everyday running of things. She’d allowed the situation with Trevor to discourage her from connecting with his group. That ended, today. When she walked in, the smell of smoked ham filled her senses. It was her favourite meat; the chef smothered it in a warm pineapple sauce and served it alongside home fries and asparagus.
Guests fired questions at her about the afternoon volleyball and badminton tournaments at the beach. When she casually directed them to Travis, the man in charge of the activity, the conversation turned to what was really on their minds. From the beginning, everyone had been aware of the attraction between herself and their tour guide, and now the group’s curiosity piqued as they watched it crumble before their eyes. With the sudden appearance of Mom, the gossip vine overflowed with endless possibilities, none of which Angie was willing to entertain.
At the end of the meal, Angie addressed the guests preparing to leave the dining hall. The sheet is at the reception desk. Don’t forget to sign up for sports this afternoon. Little skill required. Just a willingness to have fun.”
“Don’t you think your guests would enjoy a bit of serious competition? It was the glue that held Braxton and me together,” Sandra said.
“When the tournament finishes, there is a game planned for them. First, we want to let everyone enjoy the exercise and fun of the sport.”
“I see,” Sandra grinned. “You are the defender of the underdog. Another thing I like about you.”
“There are too many to mention, Mom,” said Trevor as he came up from behind. Angie recognized the sarcastic tone but noticed the confused expression that accompanied it. He never looked at her directly but focused on his mother. “I have some free time. Would you like a tour of the town?”
“I did that this morning, while you were frantically typing – but mostly deleting – words on that computer of yours.”
Trevor regarded Angie, his business face fully intact. “My mother does not appreciate the number of hours it takes sitting behind the screen of a computer to run a successful business.”
“I sympathize with you, Mrs. Dristoll, but need to agree with Trevor on this one. It’s the way of the world now.”
“Well, I’d rather see you smack that ball the way you used to when you were on the college team,” said Sandra.
“You were on a volleyball team?” Angie asked, pleased with the improvement in his mood.
“I was.” Trevor appeared humble and embarrassed at his mother’s boasting.
“School’s star player. Got the trophy for most valuable player four years in a row,” Sandra said.
Trevor sighed. “Fine. Where do I sign up, Angie?”
She wondered if it were a slip of the tongue or if he’d dealt with the reality
