He did and I caught a glimpse of his Suburban, stark black against the white tufts of snow in January in the mountains of Colorado.
I closed the door on the chill and turned to him to see he was standing, facing the registration book, but his head was turned toward the kitchen.
“Cookies,” I explained the scent in the air as I rounded him and his eyes tipped down to me. “I’m in the mood. Christmas does that to me. I’m an extreme baker at Christmas and it doesn’t wear off until after Valentine’s Day.”
He said nothing. Showed nothing. Just stared at me.
I forged into the silence.
“We’re pretty full up but eleven is open.”
He jerked up his chin then turned to the book.
I kept talking.
“We have new flat screen TVs, with Blu-ray players. And cable.”
He kept scribbling.
I kept blabbing.
“And I figured out how to take bookings on-line. I did it all by myself. It works great!”
I sounded excited because I was. I fiddled with that for-freaking-ever. So long I thought it’d be the death of me. But in the end it worked beautifully.
He dropped the pen and straightened toward me.
I didn’t stop blathering.
“I also have a library of DVDs. There’s a menu in your cabin if you want to check one out. I usually require a credit card for that service but we’ll skip that part seeing as you’re a repeat customer, so I’m guessing I can trust you won’t take off with my copy of Lake House.”
That got me something. His full, attractive lips twisted in distaste.
“Not a Sandra Bullock fan?” I asked.
He shocked me by sharing, “Keanu Reeves.”
I grinned at him. “This is the difference between men and women. Many men don’t get Mr. Reeves.” I leaned in and finished conspiratorially, “Every woman absolutely does.”
He made no comment and showed no hint of understanding or humor.
Instead, he asked, “I take it it’s no longer seventy.”
I shook my head. “Sorry. And it’s high season so it’s a hundred a night.”
And it was one hundred dollars a night and I added ten dollars a person if there was more than one.
I had eight of the eleven cabins filled, with Priest there was nine.
This meant I was doing it.
Finally.
Utilities and cable were crippling. Not to mention taxes. The day-to-day work was constant and there was still more to do to get the cabins as I wanted them to be. I wasn’t rolling in it and I could use some help, like someone to help me clean and do laundry.
But I was doing it. I might not be able to pay my dad off with interest anytime soon, what with all the stuff that needed doing to the house, not to mention the fact that two winters in Colorado running my business with my car were two winters too many without a truck or SUV, so I had to get on that and soon.
But I was doing it.