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 |  Ongoing story/book about Melinda Fairfax. |
| Melinda was glad that she had chosen the little sport utility vehicle with four-wheel drive from the rental agency. The last thirty minutes of her drive to Willow Springs had been heading into falling snow. While she wasn’t a stranger to winter weather, it was uncommon for her to drive in it. With the failing light and her rumbling stomach at the front of her mind, Melinda listened carefully to the navigation system telling her to turn left, go about a mile and then look for her destination on the right. She was hoping that the bed and breakfast would have her room ready for her because she was certainly ready for it. She felt a yawn coming on and stifled it as best she could, keeping her attention on the road. The radio was turned down low with the music playing so soft that she could barely make out a woman crooning to a country twang. As tired and distracted as she was, Melinda hadn’t bothered finding any particular station. The sound of the warm air whooshing out of the vents mixed with the occasional whump of the windshield wipers clearing off melting snow. “Well, mom,” Melinda started, then stopped to clear her throat. She hadn’t spoken in a couple hours since talking to Cora at the airport. It felt foolish and comforting all at the same time to have a one-sided conversation with her mother. “I’m nearly to your hometown. You’re probably not surprised to know its snowing.” The smile she attempted dissolved with a sigh. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “One day, I want to be able to talk to you and smile, but that’s not today. Not that it was a bad day,” she hastened to add. “My flight went well. I met a very sweet lady named Cora. How is it that sometimes we can connect with a total stranger better than we do with people we’ve known for a long time?” In the quiet of the car, Melinda imagined her mom sitting in the passenger seat next to her, listening. Though she had been a busy woman who juggled the demands of her profession, she had always taken the time to listen to her daughter. Melinda meandered in her conversation, unburdening her heart, but also keeping herself awake. “So, what kind of woman is Aunt Lena?” Her question was drawn out slowly as her attention shifted to seeing the first buildings of Willow Springs. It was like driving into a holiday card. On either side of the road were houses decorated for Christmas. Lights were strung round trees and across porches with candles in the windows and wreaths on doors. The houses were grand old Victorians with sloping roofs that already held a coating of fresh snow. As she came into the town proper, lamp posts lined the sidewalks. Each had a decoration hanging from it, rotating through candy canes, trees, stars, and bells. The shapes were wrapped with white lights that twinkled against the drifting snowflakes. She had slowed the vehicle to a creep, enchanted by the world where she would be staying for the next few weeks. It felt like she was suspended in time, that maybe a horse-drawn carriage might pop round the corner conveying a couple dressed smartly in a suit and gown to their home. Instead, a set of headlights cut through the precipitation and the rumble of a big engine announced the snowplow before it came into view. The big dump truck lumbered past, its blade still raised above the pavement, just spreading salt behind it for the moment. It was a welcome sight. The snow was beginning to stick to the road. By the time Melinda reached the bed and breakfast, the last bit of daylight had succumbed to the winter hours of the year. The sign for her destination was lit by two little lamps that shone down upon it. Delilah’s Cozy Nook was a three-story Victorian painted a dark blue with white trim. The wrap around porch had a picture window and through it, Melinda could see a blazing fire in the hearth. She wasn’t sure if anything had ever looked more welcoming. Maneuvering the little SUV off the road and into the gravel lot beside the inn, she selected an open space close to the sidewalk. It was such a relief to push the button that shut off the engine. “Well, here I am,” she said, finally finding a smile. A spurt of energy cleansed away the weariness of the road. She tossed everything she would need from the front of the car into her purse and got out to retrieve her luggage. Even wrapped in her coat, scarf and gloves, the cold had her teeth on edge. She carefully hurried up the walkway and porch steps. “Well, good evening, dearie,” a matronly woman said, opening the door as Melinda neared. Her dark hair had streaks of grey through it and was pulled back into a bun. Her smile was as warm as the fire behind her. She ushered Melinda through the door. “Hello, I’m Melinda Fairfax. I have a reservation.” The smells in the house were heavenly and made her mouth water. It had been a long time since she had a good home cooked meal. Melinda began to dig through her purse for her phone, but her gloves were getting in the way. She tugged them off and stuffed them in her coat pockets, then resumed the search. “Just a moment, I know my phone is in here. I’ve got the confirmation in my email.” “There’s no need for that, now dear. I recognize you from the copy of your license that you emailed to me.” She stood with her hands clasped at her waist. “Oh, that’s right, my license.” Melinda had just found her phone but didn’t bother waking it up. Instead, she slid it into the pocket where it was supposed to go. “I guess this isn’t like trying to check in at the big hotels in the city.” “Goodness, no, dear,” the other woman said with a chuckle. “We’ve got a personal touch here. Now, let’s get you settled. I have some hot chicken soup on the stove, fresh baked bread just out of the oven, and mugs of cold apple cider.” She slipped around Melinda, got hold of her luggage, and headed towards the stairs. “Follow me, dear.” Melinda started to protest at having her bags carried for her, but then thought better of it. She was exhausted and wasn’t sure if it would be offensive to turn down the assistance. “Everything smells wonderful, thank you. I can be down in a few minutes. I just want to get freshened up.” “You’re more than welcome to come back down. You can eat in the breakfast nook in the kitchen, or in the dining room, or even get settled by the fire in the living room.” She stopped at a door with an antique-looking gold metal number three on it. Opening it, she brought in Melinda’s luggage and stepped aside. Melinda walked in and was instantly charmed by the room. There was a four-poster bed in dark mahogany and a snowy white and blue comforter for contrast. A dresser and wardrobe in matching wood stood against two walls with a small desk occupying one corner. A door opened off the bedroom, which she saw was her own private bath. The curtains matched the bed clothes and were complimented by thick light blue runners that ran alongside the bed. The wood floors were worn, but obviously cared for with love. It was all so charming. “This is beautiful.” Melinda turned to her host and smiled, feeling her shoulders finally relax. “Thank you,” the woman, who had to be Delilah, beamed with quiet pride. “Here’s your room key. Oh, and if you don’t feel up to coming down for dinner, I would be happy to bring it up for you. There’s a phone by the bedside. All you have to do is dial one and it will connect you to me.” She patted the outline of a cell phone in her apron pocket. “I may just take you up on that,” Melinda considered. “The drive took more out of me than I thought it would. The snow wasn’t bad, but still a little nerve-wracking.” “I understand, dear,” Delilah nodded. “It’s seldom I drive further than just here in town and never when the roads are bad. Oh, would it be alright if I called you Melinda?” “Of course,” Melinda smiled. “Better yet, please call me Milly.” “Now isn’t that a lovely nickname,” Delilah commented. “Then you must call me Dee.” Melinda accepted the room key and clasped Dee’s hand briefly in welcome. Dee smiled and exited the room, closing the door softly. Melinda shed her coat and scarf, hanging them up in the small closet. Venturing over to the window, she gazed out at the sleepy little town with cheerful lights and snow drifting down to cover everything in a blanket of pure white. Tonight, she would rest and recuperate. Tomorrow, she would find Aunt Lena. |
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