Page 8 of Pity Present
“You’ll want to get one of the singing chipmunks in the great room. Just touch the paw of the big one and they’ll perform for you.”
“Thanks for the tip,” I tell him as I stand. “I’ll make that my first stop.”
I’m not sure singing chipmunks are my idea of classy Christmas decor, but I know my dad would love it. He’s forever sending me videos from social media of people who have made it look like their dogs are singing rock music. If the chipmunks are any good, I’ll have to pass along a clip.
Entering the great room feels like I’m walking into another era—a time before everyone was distracted by their electronic devices. Families are sitting at tables playing board games, and more people are nestled in overstuffed chairs conversing in front of the fire. There’s another group standing near a grand piano. No one is currently playing, but I’m guessing it’s only a matter of time, given the audience that’s begun to assemble.
I spot the chipmunks in the far corner and make my way toward them. These aren’t your ordinary rodents. They stand about four feet tall and they’re wearing red scarves and Santa Claus hats. I gingerly reach out and touch the largest one’s paw and the trio immediately starts singing “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.” It’s so surprising that a loud giggle erupts out of me as they wiggle their hips back and forth.
Several people join me to watch the stuffed animal serenade, and when the first song is over, someone else touches the big chipmunk. This time they sing “Jingle Bells" while I take a video and send it to both my dad and Ellen. My sister texts back immediately.
BS
That is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!
Me
This place is cool, El. Thanks for making the connection.
BS
Have you met with Trina yet?
Me
We have an appointment in the morning. I’m heading back to the dining room to eat.
BS
Send more pics on your way.
I snap photos of the Christmas tree and the fireplace withstockings hanging from the hearth. Then I take a couple shots of the outdoor light display and fire them off to Ellen.
When I return to my table, the waiter is standing there holding my salad. “Great timing,” he says before putting the plate down on the table. “Can I get you anything else?”
On a whim, I decide, “Hot chocolate with whipped cream if you have it.”
As I sit down and dig into my meal, I’m not surprised that it’s delicious. Everything at this lodge seems to be the epitome of perfection. Once again, I feel sad that I’m alone. This is the kind of place you want to share with someone special.
Unbidden, Blake pops into my mind, and my previous annoyance returns. I know we’re strangers and he doesn’t owe me anything, but the guyishere for a singles’ event. Doesn’t that suggest he’s looking for female companionship? And here I am—a female. You can see how I might take offense.
A tall, dark-haired woman walks toward me carrying a mug with a mountain of whipped cream on top. Stopping in front of me, she says, “I think this is yours.” Then she sets it down on the table in front of me.
I hurry to swallow the bite of salmon I just took. “Thank you.”
“Are you by chance here for the singles’ event?” she asks. That’s when I recognize her. She’s Trina Rockwell fromMidwestern Matchmaker.
“I’m not,” I tell her. “I’m Molly Anders. I’m here to help you with your gift shop.”
“Molly!” she says enthusiastically. “I’m Trina. Do you mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.” I gesture to the assortment of empty chairs. “My sister Ellen told me what a beautiful place you have, but she didn’t do it justice.”
Trina sits across from me. She looks so sophisticated and put together, I take a minute to be grateful she’s not single anymore. No one needs competition like this. “We really loved meeting Ellen when she came up to do a story on our opening,” Trina says.
“She enjoyed meeting you too,” I tell her. “I understand you have a singles’ event going on.”
“We do! It starts tomorrow night.” With an expression of pure glee, she adds, “I guess I couldn’t give up my love for matchmaking.”
