“You work here too?” Holly asked.
“We’re short-staffed with the snow,” Merryweather replied. “Can you believe how much we got? The weatherman says it’s the snow of the century. Maybe even a couple of centuries. I think I believe him.”
“It came down so fast,” Holly said, looking out the window. “It almost feels like magic.”
“Maybe it was.” Merryweather’s eyes twinkled. “Anyway, what can I get you? We have a full breakfast today.”
“Waffles and coffee for me,” Holly answered. She grinned at Nathan. “You were right about the waffles.”
He chuckled. “Waffles and coffee for me as well. And orange juice.”
“Coming right up,” Merryweather said with a smile. She bustled off to the kitchen, weaving her way between tables and smiling at guests.
“So, can you believe there is so much snow the lifts are closed?” Holly shook her head. “It seems funny to me to be snowed in at a ski ranch and unable to ski.”
Nathan chuckled. “Maybe we’ll be stuck here for longer than just a day.”
“I don’t know.” Holly scrunched up her nose, shaking her head. “It’s almost Christmas. I would miss all the holiday fun.”
Nathan had almost forgotten that it was Christmas. He now noticed the Christmas tree off to the side. There was a menorah in the window. An instrumental version of Silver Bells played overhead.
“Right. I forgot, you don’t really do the holidays,” Holly said.
“What if you came with me to San Francisco for the holiday?” Nathan wasn’t sure where the request came from. It wasn’t something he’d been thinking of, but the words just came right out. “I know it’s not a traditional Christmas location, but I think you’d like it.”
A soft smile crossed Holly’s face, telling her she was considering it. Then she shook her head. “I can’t. I promised to help with the school, the parade, and the store’s party.” Her smile faltered. “It’s probably the last one, so I can’t miss it.”
“The last one?” Nathan asked, wondering what she meant. But, right then, Merryweather arrived with their food and drinks.
“Here you two go,” she said, setting the food down in front of them. Nathan’s mouth began to water. He was hungry from their exertions.
They both dug into their breakfasts.
“
These are so good,” Holly moaned, pouring syrup onto her plate. She smiled. “Waffles always make me think of my mom and Christmas.” She shook her head.
“Why’s that?”
“When I was five or six, my mom decided that we needed to have waffles on Christmas morning, just like they do on TV. ‘Santa’ brought her a waffle iron and while we played with our new presents, she attempted waffles.”
Her smile went distant.
“Were they good?”
“Oh god, no. They were a disaster.” She chuckled. “The waffle iron melted. All we had were these melted black plastic hockey pucks. The smoke detectors were going off, the dog was barking, and my mom just stood there with a spatula laughing. We had Eggo waffles the next year. Now they’re tradition.”
“She sounds wonderful,” Nathan said. He wouldn’t mind meeting this woman. The thought made him pause. He’d known Holly for twenty-four hours and was already considering meeting her parents. In fact, he was excited about meeting her parents.
What was in these waffles?
“She was,” Holly replied. Her smile remained, but her eyes saddened. She saw him looking at her and explained. “She died three years ago. Cancer.”
Nathan suddenly felt horrible. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” She shrugged and put a smile back on. “This time of year it’s hard not to think of her. All the books say to focus on happy memories. And there’s just so many happy memories of her around Christmas.”
“Like the waffles?”