Christmas at Fireside Cabins - Jenny Hale Page 0,26
she gets back.”
“You’re right. I say we make a deliciously festive drink, go into the living room, and decide what our big adventure will be today,” Edie suggested.
The three of them made mugs of mulled cider, put on their fuzziest socks, and gathered on the sofa. Piper turned on the radio, “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” filling the room and instantly lightening the mood as they all relaxed. Edie pulled out the brochures and Lila searched the area for Christmas activities on her iPad.
“There’s a wreath-making class twenty minutes away…” Lila said, scrolling through her feed. The holiday images of the quaint town lifted her spirits. Pinewood Hills was a sleepy little place, but there was a certain charm to it. It managed to keep its quiet streets secluded from the growth in surrounding areas, and the more time Lila spent there, the more she felt like it was a reprieve from all the craziness that went on in the rest of the world. It comforted a piece of her that she’d never realized needed comforting.
Edie wrinkled her nose. “We’ve got our share of greenery at the moment. What else is there?” She wrapped both hands around her mug.
“Laser tag, and there’s a movie theater…” Lila scrolled down a bit more.
Piper chewed on her lip. “It feels weird already without Charlotte and she’s only just left.”
“I know,” Lila told her. “That’s why we have to find something really fun to do, to take our minds off of it. Plus, we want to make her incredibly envious when she sees our pictures, since she left us, right?” she teased, making her friends laugh. “Oh wait,” she told them, clicking on a link. “We couldn’t do it until dark, but there’s an enchanted forest.” She read the description aloud: “‘Find your Christmas spirit among millions of holiday lights as they tower above you, scattered along the trees tucked away deep in the forest of the Tennessee hills. Keep warm with hot cocoa stations along the way or follow the peppermint road to our bakery, restaurant, or Santa’s toy shop.’”
Piper sat up straighter. “That would be fun.”
“I think so too,” Edie said. She turned around the pamphlet she’d been reading. “We could do this during the day. It’s a tour of Christmas confectioneries.” She turned the leaflet back around to read them the description. “They’ve got something called a Sugarplum Christmas Bomb, peppermint chocolate drops, and… Oh my goodness.”
“What?” Piper asked, excited.
“They have fried homemade banana bread dipped in chocolate and rolled in powdered sugar,” she replied with wide eyes.
“I can feel my hips growing just hearing you read that,” Lila said with a laugh. Then, suddenly, she sharpened her hearing. “What’s that noise?”
Piper and Edie stopped and listened.
The hum was getting louder. It sounded like the groan of an old creaky door. Piper got up and turned off the Christmas music, the three of them craning their necks in an attempt to hear the noise better.
“It sounds like it’s coming from your bedroom, Edie,” Lila said. She stood up and the other two followed her down the hall. The closer they got to the room, the louder the sound—now a thunderous banging and clanking—all of them looking at each other in alarm.
Tentatively Lila pushed open the door. “Oh no!”
It looked as though a spring rainstorm had cropped up in Edie’s room, the ceiling gushing with water, the light fixture swaying from its electrical cord while water poured out around it.
“Grab your coat,” Lila said, taking both Piper and Edie’s arms and dragging them down the hallway. “We need to get out of here until we know it’s safe. The water’s too close to the electrical work.” They snatched their coats and handbags from the hooks by the door and plunged themselves into the freezing cold, the ice on the cabins glistening under the dull light that peeked through the clouds.
“Let’s go tell Eleanor, so she can get a plumber in right away.”
The three women ran across the large expanse of yard between their cabin and the main house, which was so frozen it was like jogging over a solid rock. They knocked wildly on Eleanor’s door.
When she opened it, Eleanor looked filled with worry, her hand over her heart, her eyes wide. “What’s wrong?” she asked, nearly breathless.
“Edie’s room is flooded, and there’s water pouring from the ceiling,” Lila told her.
The elderly woman looked past them toward their cabin. “Oh, no.” Then out of nowhere, she started to cry.