Christmas In Icicle Falls. Sheila Roberts

will be easy.”

      “Good idea,” he said, grinning.

      That settled it, then. “Tell her to be in the kitchen tomorrow at six.”

      “How about you tell her?”

      After that moment in the lobby Olivia wasn’t particularly excited about facing her daughter-in-law, but she nodded. “All right.”

      She didn’t exactly receive a warm welcome when she went to her son’s little suite at the opposite end of the lodge. The look Meadow gave her shot her back to an incident in her childhood when she and a friend had snubbed another little girl on the playground at lunch. The hurt had come off the child in waves and Olivia hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything the teacher said the whole rest of the afternoon. Those same waves were coming at her now.

      “May I come in?” she asked.

      Meadow nodded and moved aside, opening the door farther.

      Olivia stepped in. The TV was on. Dr. Phil was working with a dysfunctional family. Olivia could almost hear him saying, You’re next, Mrs. Claussen. She cleared her throat. “Meadow, I’m sorry I didn’t think to invite you to come shopping with me today.” And sorry I didn’t want to think to!

      Meadow studied the roses on the carpet. “It’s okay.”

      Of course, it wasn’t, and the fact that Meadow was so quick to forgive only shone a spotlight on Olivia’s lack of kindness. “Maybe we can fit in an outing, just the two of us.” Penance.

      Meadow’s gaze lifted and the gratitude Olivia saw in her daughter-in-law’s eyes made her feel small. “Yeah?”

      “Yes. Meanwhile, I could use some help at breakfast tomorrow. Would you be up for that?”

      The girl was beaming now. “Sure. What time?”

      “We start serving at seven, so I need you in the kitchen at six.”

      Meadow’s eyebrows shot up. “Six?”

      “If that’s too early for you...” I’ll be off the hook.

      “No, I can do that,” Meadow said gamely. “I’ll tell Brandon we have to wait and go night skiing.”

      “Oh, if you had plans...”

      “No, no. I’ll be there.”

      “Are you sure? Because if you’re already busy...”

      “I can change my plans. Really. I want to help.”

      Olivia smiled weakly and tried not to think about the so-called help Meadow had been with the Thanksgiving Day meal. Well, they weren’t serving gravy at breakfast, so maybe it would be okay.

      “If you’re sure,” she said in a last-ditch effort to give Meadow an out.

      Except the one she was trying to give an out was herself. Once more that spotlight exposed Olivia’s own ignoble attitude. Who was the real ugly tree here?

      “Oh, yeah,” Meadow said, still smiling. “I’m sure.”

      Okay, the girl did seem to have a good heart. “Wonderful,” Olivia said. And darn it all, she was determined to mean it.

       Chapter Five

      The important thing to remember this time of year when things get a little awkward is that we’re all different.

      —Muriel Sterling, A Guide to Happy Holidays

      Come six o’clock Olivia and Brooke were in the kitchen, ready to go, Olivia in her dirndl and Brooke in a maternity-friendly version of the classic German garb. No Meadow.

      The two women got busy filling bread baskets with Olivia’s eggnog muffins, setting fruit on trays and putting out hot water and coffee. Still no sign of Meadow. Olivia put her breakfast casserole in the oven to bake and started cooking sausages.

      It was now six twenty. Meadow had obviously overslept. She was probably rushing around the apartment right now, throwing on clothes and brushing her teeth.

      Or not. By ten after seven the first guests were accumulating in the dining room but there was still no sign of Meadow.

      Fortunately, Olivia’s midweek crowd was sparse, so the extra help wasn’t needed. Still, it irked her that she’d given Meadow a chance to be involved and, after her enthusiasm of the day before, the girl hadn’t bothered to show up. Meanwhile, here was Brooke, eight months pregnant but happily pitching in, keeping the cold-cereal dispenser and the pitchers of juice filled and chatting with the guests.

      By eight James, too, was on deck, clearing tables. “No sign of Meadow?” he asked Olivia as he headed for the sink.

      “No.” So much for her wanting to be a part of things.

      “Maybe she overslept.”

      At that moment Brandon came into the kitchen.

      “Where’s Meadow?” Olivia greeted him.

      “She doesn’t feel good. She said to tell you she’s sorry. She’ll be down as soon as she can.”

      Sick. How convenient, Olivia thought but said nothing.

      “Nothing serious, I hope,” James said.

      “I don’t think so,” Brandon said. “You got any of your casserole left, Mom?”

      “I do,” she said and pulled a second pan from the oven.

      “I always loved this one,” Brandon said as she cut him a large piece. “Thanks, Mom,” he added and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

      The smile that had been dodging her all morning made its appearance. She so loved her boy, and just a simple compliment from him was enough to fill her with happiness. It kept her in a good mood clear through the rest of the breakfast hour.

      It was edging toward ten and the last guests were strolling out of the dining room when Meadow made her appearance, wearing fashionably torn jeans and a long-sleeved black top. She hurried over to where Olivia sat at a corner table, ready to take a coffee break.

      “Sorry I’m late. Did Brandon tell you I was sick?”

      She didn’t look sick now. “He did,” Olivia said and took a sip of her coffee. “Are you feeling better?”

      “Yeah. I’m ready to help.”

      Now that the guests were all done eating... But there was still plenty to do. “Why don’t you spell Brooke and help James with the cleanup?”

      “I can do that,” Meadow said with a nod.

      Olivia watched as she scooped up several plates from a nearby table and moved off to the kitchen. Okay, she was willing to pitch in. Maybe she really hadn’t been feeling well. Maybe she had a little low-grade...something.

      Olivia ate one of the muffins she’d served herself and continued to observe her new daughter-in-law as she bustled in and out of the kitchen, clearing away dirty dishes and silverware, empty pitchers and serving bowls. Perhaps Olivia had misjudged her, thinking she was a slacker. She wasn’t slacking now.

      Brooke came to the table with a glass of milk and a muffin and joined Olivia. “This is my second muffin. I need to stop.”

      “Well, you are eating for two,” Olivia said.

      “More like eating for three. I’m getting as big as a house.”

      “You’ll take it off after the baby comes,” Olivia assured her. Not that she had managed to do that but oh, well. She’d been carrying those extra pounds for years and they had made themselves happily at home. Lucky for her, James thought her figure was just fine the way it was.

      “You’re not going to have many