Her Christmas Legacy

Vacancy

After Jordan saw Saundra safely on her way home, he trotted back into the house looking far too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, given the late hour of the day.

"So, would you like a tour of the house?"

"I'd like to go to my room, if that's alright. It's been a long day."

"I won't argue with you on that, and tomorrow's an early morning." He gestured towards the staircase and we both made our way up.

"I find your dedication to your work admirable," I said, running my hand along the polished handrail and admiring the ornate woodwork of the posts, "but I'm not Scrooge. You should enjoy your Thanksgiving."

"I don't consider it work," he said with a laugh. "It's just that we need time to get everything prepared for Thanksgiving dinner."

"I suppose so."

I didn't register either his words or mine. Instead, I peered down the long corridor at the top of the stairs. Doors lined the hallway, the walls bedecked in patterned wallpaper, luxurious wainscoting, and intricate crown moulding.

"Your room is this way."

He directed me to the left, opening up a door with a sign upon it that declared the area for 'Employees Only.' Inside wasn't a room. Instead, we stepped into another hallway lined with three doors. As we made our way down, Jordan pointed out the laundry room with all the linens, as well as a storage closet for cleaning supplies and amenities. Then, at the last door, he stopped and presented it with a wave of his hand.

"Your room ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am," I said with a grimace. "You've got to be about the same age as me."

"Maybe a year or two older, I wager, but this isn't about age. How would you like to be called boss?" He shoved his hands in his pocket and his head cocked with a stiff smile.

"Lyn's fine," I said with a low growl, rumbling my words.

"She always called you Maddie." The statement was off-hand and casual, yet it made my still settling nerves reignite. While he bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting for me to be wowed by the room he offered, my hand hovered above the doorknob, frozen in time.

"My parents called me Maddie," I mumbled, my eyes staring through the door. "I don't go by that anymore."

"Yes, well, I suppose when placing Maddie against Lyn, the latter has a more adult appeal to it." He drew his words out as he failed to assess the bubbling pain inside of me. "I think I prefer Madelyn myself."

"It's Lyn," I answered, his unsolicited opinion shaking me from my thoughts and provoking my hand to turn the knob. When I opened it, a musty tide of air washed over me and I had to blink away the dusty gloom. Once I settled, I found the large room before me lacked the flowers, universally amusing books, and generic paintings of mountainsides and farmhouses that I expected of a quaint hotel room. Instead, family pictures, personal trinkets, and even a hamper of dirty clothes decorated the space.

"This room's occupied." My words tripped over my lips as fatigue and frustration battled within me, wondering if Jordan put me in someone else's room by accident or out of malicious amusement.

"It was occupied," he answered, a dark timbre deepening his voice. "This is, or was, Georgina's room."

"My aunt's?" I gasped, the words lodging in my parched throat. "You want me to stay in her room?"

"Well, yeah." A single brow cocked with confusion, and he continued with slow, precise words. "Where else would you go?"

"I don't know, one of the guest rooms?" I looked back towards the staircase, my brow pinching and my lip curling with unease.

"You can stay in one of the guest rooms, if you want, but you'd have to get out of it in a day or two. Our first guests for the week arrive Friday night."

"I..." A hand flew up to my forehead as I groaned. "I can't stay in her room. It's her room."

"Lyn, she's gone." He took a step closer, bowing his head so when I withdrew my hand from my face, my eyes could only see his. "At some point, you're going to have to go into that room. You can't expect to sell this house with her things still in it. She left you everything, and that includes her personal possessions."

"But, I..."

I looked into the room. It was a spacious bedroom, rightfully so, considering she was the one that had to spend every day living in this inn. However, she kept the clutter to a minimum. She had a dresser, wardrobe, vanity, desk, and a small bed. She tucked momentos along every surface, but they didn't litter the room and nothing was cast off upon the floor. I could also spot another door in the back corner, likely leading to an en suite bathroom, which I hoped was in some similarly organized state.

"Did she die in here?" The words dribbled over my lips and were barely intelligible, even to my ears. I cleared my throat and tried again. "She... she died in the hospital, right? That's what you said?"

"You don't even know how she died, do you?" A rumble of disappointment curled his words.

"No." I gave him blunt honesty. I knew lying to him would only rekindle the flaming anger that had greeted me.

"She died in the hospital," he answered, his words hot and short. "She had a heart attack and couldn't recover. I'm sure she would have liked to have family with her in her last moments, but at least all of us here in town had a chance to say goodbye before she passed."

"I didn't know she was alive," I reiterated through gritted teeth. "Stop trying to guilt me over something I had no control over."

"Then act like someone who would have come had she had control over it." His words fought their way out from behind his gritted teeth. I wanted to snap back and have the last word, but absolutely nothing came to my tongue. I stood defeated before my great aunt's vacant, musty room.

"If that's all, I'm heading to my apartment. If you need anything, there's an intercom here on the wall." He pointed around the door frame to a panel just beside it. "It connects to another intercom in the guest house. You should, however, have everything you need."

"Great," I said, my voice low and my eyes turned to the grain of the hardwoods. "Thanks."

"Goodnight then."

Without further word, he headed back down the hall and closed the door behind him. For a moment I stood there, standing in the doorway, uncertain if I could step into my aunt's sanctuary. Eventually, I turned on my heel and went down to the laundry room. After claiming a few blankets and several pillows, I returned to the doorway. With a deep breath, I stepped inside and began building a makeshift bed on the floor. After changing my clothes and brushing my teeth, I gratefully surrendered to my pillows. However, sleep denied me for most of the night, until exhaustion finally beat out my fear and remorse.