Chapter 55: Chapter 55
No longer thinking linearly, Memory took off for the back of the store, grabbing her coat and shoving her arms into it, dragging the insurance policy through the sleeve with her fist. She snatched up her purse and dug for her keys, running to the back door and flying through it, barely getting it shut before she jammed the key in to lock it.
Her car sputtered when she turned it over. “Not now! Come on Bertha, let’s go.” The second time, it cranked, so she said another quick thank you to heaven before throwing on her seatbelt and backing down the alley a ways before she flung the shifter into drive and took off headed for the Candy Cane Lane Inn.
The sun was beginning to set, and Christmas lights glowed from every yard and rooftop, but she didn’t pay any attention as she concentrated on getting to her destination as quickly as possible without breaking too many driving laws. She found a parking spot on the street and ran to the door, taking the large concrete steps two at a time.
The door was unlocked, and Memory burst through it into a crowd of at least a dozen people spilling out of the adjoining parlor, laughing and drinking what smelled like cider out of foam cups, frosted sugar cookies on everyone’s plates. Memory scanned faces. She didn’t see Dak or Ellie. But she did see Leon.
Saying, “Excuse me,” she made her way through the inn’s guests to where he stood behind the check-in desk in the corner of the foyer by the stairs, chatting with a couple who appeared to be checking in. His eyebrows knit together as he realized who he was looking at, and Memory tried to ignore the fact that her face was probably swollen and blotchy from crying. “Memory? Is everything okay?”
The couple dismissed themselves, taking their bags to the staircase, and she stepped up to the counter. “Hi, Leon. Sorry to bother you. Do you know if Dak’s still here?”
“Dakota Brooks?” he clarified, his face indicating before she even nodded her head that she wouldn’t like his answer. He dropped his eyes, his head tipped to the side. “I’m afraid he left about ten minutes ago, sweetie.”
“Oh, okay.” She took a deep breath, trying to seem nonchalant, though Leon would have to be as unobservant as a brick wall not to have noticed how frazzled and desperate she was. “What about Ellie?” There was little chance her friend was still there since she’d left the store at 2:00, but it never hurt to ask.
“Who?” Leon asked, his thin face puckering up as his fine brown bangs flopped with the tip of his head.
“Ellie. Ellie Snow?” Now it was Memory’s turn to be confused. “You know, the woman who’s been helping me out at the shop the last few weeks?” Leon hadn’t been in the shop from what she could remember, but he must’ve seen Ellie with Memory’s family around town. Not to mention Ellie had talked about Leon several times the last few weeks. “She’s got bright red hair, about this tall....” She raised her hand to show that Ellie was several inches shorter than she was. “Fifty-five-ish.... Ellie. Eleanor Snow.”
“I don’t.... Let me check the registration book.” Leon opened up the large brown leather binder in front of him and scanned through a few pages, shaking his head, while Memory stared at him in confusion. “I’m sorry, Memory. Let me check the online registration, though I always write everything down here.”
He moved over to his computer a few steps away and pulled up some program Memory wasn’t familiar with. “Eleanor Snow,” she repeated. He nodded and typed it in.
Still shaking his head, Leon turned back to her. “I’m sorry, Memory, but no one by that name has ever stayed here.”
None of that made any sense to Memory. Dak had seen Ellie here, had cookies with her in the parlor.... “Maybe she used a different name. Do you remember seeing her?” Memory considered pulling her phone out and finding a picture of Ellie to show him, but she couldn’t remember having taken any, which seemed so strange. Why wouldn’t she have? Surely Kirsten had some....
“No, sweetie. I’m sorry. I can’t think of anyone who resembles the woman you’re describing. Perhaps she was staying at one of the other inns—The Gingerbread House, maybe.”
Puzzled beyond comprehension, Memory found herself nodding. “Yeah, maybe so.” But she hadn’t been—she was certain Ellie had been staying here. So why was there no record of her? “Thank you, Leon. Merry Christmas.”
He smiled, clearly glad his suggestion that she was in the wrong place solved the mystery, even if it didn’t really. “Merry Christmas, Memory. Give my best to your family.”
“Yes, tell Lynn and the kids I said Merry Christmas,” she said, thinking of his daughter who helped run the place since his wife had passed away. She waved and headed back outside.
It had gotten colder. Either that or the fact that she wasn’t wearing her hat, gloves, or scarf was more evident now that she wasn’t frantically tearing through the town looking for someone who was probably already gone when she was pulling herself up off of the floor.
Memory got behind the wheel of her car and turned it on, but she didn’t move. If Dak hadn’t gotten too far, maybe he’d be willing to come back and let her apologize in person. She pulled her phone out and pressed his name. It rang once and then clicked off. He’d declined her call—probably through his hands free device on the steering wheel of his fancy car.
She caught her own tone and realized she needed to change her thinking. So he drove a fancy car—that didn’t mean he thought he was better than her or that she should make assumptions about him. Trying not to be frustrated, she tried again, and he declined her call for the second time.
Lowering her head to the steering wheel, she fought the urge to bang her forehead a few hundred times to knock some sense into herself. “Get a grip, girl,” she muttered. He’d said he wanted to talk to her again; she’d been the one to say after Christmas. Unless he changed his mind.... Unless he thought about all of the stupid things she’d said, all of the conclusions she’d jumped to, and realized she wasn’t worth his time.
“That won’t happen, will it?” she said to the ceiling of her Honda Accord. It didn’t answer, and neither did God, but the last fragments of hope she’d been clinging to that he might forgive her didn’t dissipate either.
Since he wouldn’t answer her phone calls, she decided to text him. “Dak, I’m so sorry. I completely overreacted. I wish I could explain. Please give me a chance to talk to you about it, and I’ll be happy to admit that you were right. About everything.” She hit send and stared at her phone for a few moments before she realized he wouldn’t text her back while he was driving. Not unless he had one of those elaborate text to speech thingies on his car.
Even if he did, he probably didn’t want to talk to her at the moment. Memory put her phone down and contemplated what she should do next. She was supposed to be at Kirsten’s for dinner in about two hours. She’d invited Dak yesterday, during the marathon talk they’d had after he’d kissed her in the ballroom. He’d seemed excited about it, and she’d been looking forward to spending Christmas with him, too. Now, he was on his way back to his empty apartment, and she would have to go home to her dad’s empty house for a few hours before they all met at Kirsten’s. Then, she’d have to pretend to have a good time while they ate ham and pie and the others sang Christmas carols and she listened. All she wanted to do was bury herself beneath the blankets and wake up when Dak was ready to let her apologize.
Running a hand through her hair, she couldn’t help but say, “I wish you were here, Grandma. You’d know exactly what to say.” Ellie would, too. Memory reached for her phone. Maybe Ellie’s car had hands-free, too, and she’d answer. She went to her contacts and pressed Ellie’s name, hoping she’d pick up.