LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter Thirty-Seven

      The next morning I was lolling in bed replaying my confession to Kai and coming to the horrible realization that he hadn’t exactly reciprocated with the whole sharing-your-feelings thing. Sure, I hadn’t really given him a chance, instead choosing to lock lips with him, but how did he feel in return? Would he leave in the early hours of the morning, avoiding a goodbye again? Surely not this time, after I’d opened up to him. This was why I tended to avoid romance; it was so damn messy and complicated. But oh so rewarding when a man could kiss the way Kai could and make you forget about the world around you. The problem was, I had forgotten everything and, after we’d chatted for a while about this and that, he’d headed up to bed. Alone. Was that a sign? A nice way of telling me no?

      Rolling out of bed to start the day, I jumped as the phone rang. “Cedarwood Lodge.” I made my voice bright, even though it was a little early for phone calls and I hadn’t even had any caffeine yet. I went to the bay window, catching sight of Kai as he headed to the chalets, wearing his tool belt. He was still here, then, hadn’t done another midnight flit. My heart fluttered at the sight of him.

      “Clio! It’s Tim. Have I caught you at a bad time?” I wrenched my gaze away from the window and traipsed downstairs, wondering why Tim needed me so damn early in the morning. “It’s OK, Tim. I’m just about to make coffee,” I said, pulling on my robe as I went.

      “Still have it black with no sugar?”

      I smiled, amused he remembered. My head was still so full of last night with Kai I needed a double shot of caffeine to get my brain into full-on party-planner mode. I shook the Kai daydream away, and focused on the call. “Still the very same. What about you? Milky white with two sugars?”

      He laughed. “No sugar these days. Life is so boring when you’re an adult!”

      When we were younger we’d had plenty of study sessions, cramming for exams, wired on so much coffee. The good old days when life was simple.

      “What can I do for you, Tim?” I asked, pulling down a mug and reaching over for the coffee pot. Cruz must’ve been up already and brewed an extra-large jug for us, knowing that between me and Amory we’d guzzle it down like water.

      “Just confirming you received my email about the jazz band?” The string quartet had been canned and we’d chosen a jazz band to fit the Gatsby theme instead.

      “Yes, I did. All booked and confirmed.” Was he not getting my replies? I’d definitely emailed him straight back.

      “That’s good to hear,” he said, his voice suddenly wistful. “What about the fireworks? Did the company return your call?”

      Had they? I struggled to remember in my un-caffeinated state. Between us, Amory handled some of the suppliers, and I handled the rest. “I’ll have to double-check with Amory. I think she was pushing for silent fireworks so we don’t upset the animal life around Cedarwood, but still have the wow factor from the colors and patterns.” Proud puppy owner Amory had definitely changed her attitude since becoming a canine mom.

      “OK, that makes sense. Let me know?”

      “Sure, I’ll send you an email as soon as I find out.”

      “Just call me, Clio. It’s easier when I’m out and about with clients.”

      I frowned. Maybe he was simply nervous because there was so much hanging in the balance, and kept detail-checking out of angst? “OK. I’ll call you as soon as I talk to Amory.”

      We hung up and I took a sip of my coffee, feeling it work its magic through my bloodstream. I checked my sent emails, and found I had sent all of the confirmation emails to Tim, and there was also one from Amory CC-ing me about the fireworks, which had been booked and were silent for the sake of the animals. Was it a technical glitch? Or was he making excuses to call me?

      ***

      I stepped out of the front door and headed in the direction of the chalets, but froze in shock as Mom’s red hatchback turned into the driveway. We’d agreed she’d visit and we’d go to the maze, but I hadn’t thought she’d actually turn up. I thought she’d renege, or make up some flimsy excuse.

      Watching her exit the car, she looked every bit her age today, and I knew this visit was costing her. She held the driver’s door for a moment, and looked in the direction of the woods. Hanging her head low, she shut it with a bang, and made her way to me.

      “Mom, you came,” I said, going toward her and enveloping her in a hug.

      She gave me a wobbly smile and nodded.

      “Are you sure about this?” Now it was time to confront the past, I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea. She was so thin, so fragile. I didn’t want to lose her again after the progress we’d made.

      With a shuddery breath she said, “I’m sure, Clio. Let me show you my maze, my downfall.”

      I grabbed my coat and gloves, and gave Mom another wooly scarf.

      We headed toward the woods, heads bent against the sheeting winds. It was a long trek, and probably one of the reasons I’d never found the maze as a child. I’d been scared of the woods, and wouldn’t have ventured too far in for fear I’d get lost. Micah had preferred running up the mountains, and that had been that.

      “Did you design the maze?” I asked, knowing how much Mom had always loved gardening.

      She nodded as we trudged through copses of trees, thrust into shadows.

      “It was supposed to be the greatest thing ever,” she said wistfully. “This feat of topiary. My parents had been friends with the owners of the lodge for as long as I could remember, and Morty had always been kind – letting me follow him around the gardens. Come summer we were out together every day, planting, and planning. He treated me like an adult, and not the child I was when I first played here. He completely understood my love of horticulture, and tried to guide me, went out of his way to teach me what he knew. So when we came across this clearing I had the most spectacular idea…” She tailed off as we got deeper into the woods.

      “Building a maze?” I asked. Morty, I knew, had been the previous owner of the lodge, but knowing he’d shared Mom’s love of gardening was something new.

      Mom nodded. “Not just any maze: a maze that would be a work of art, and almost impossible to navigate. Dead ends, and false laneways. I designed it and we planted it. It took years for it to mature, of course. Morty pretty much left me to my own devices, not really believing I could accomplish it, I think. But I was determined. Years passed and, when I was a teenager, they hired me for real, and I worked the grounds here. It was my dream job, just like it’s Isla’s. I loved plunging my hands into the fertile soil, helping plants thrive.” She lapsed into silence and I reached over to take her hand. I hoped she’d see the gesture as a show of support. I knew how hard this was for her, reliving the past, going back to a time that obviously tormented her still.

      After a good twenty-minute hike we suddenly came upon it. I would have missed it if Mom hadn’t paused and stared at it, her eyes filling with tears. The area was so overgrown it almost looked like every other part of the woods, except for one tiny difference – the clearing

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