Madelyn "Lyn" Creeke and her grandmother were the last of their family. At least, that's what Lyn's grandmother always led her to believe.
Lyn had never heard of or seen pictures of Georgina Creeke, a great aunt that had been living a few hours awa...
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"Our granddaughter lives in Juniper Falls."
"You're joking? What's her name?"
"Alexis Radcliffe."
"We know her! Her and her husband go to our church!"
The two couples laughed over their coincidental tie to each other as I brought out another tray of cookies and a fresh pot of hot cocoa.
"We know you're not from here," said Mr. Ramirez, who, with his wife, had checked in earlier that day and was now seated with our other guests before the lounge's crackling fire. "I'm curious, though, where are you from? You must've been far away, seeing as Gina never knew where to find you."
It took me a moment to realize he was speaking to me rather than Mr. and Mrs. Elliot from Juniper Falls.
"Oh, um, I'm actually not too far from here. I'm from Whitmere."
"The city?" Mrs. Ramirez gasped as a thin hand reached up to touch her painted lips. "You've been this close the whole time and Georgina never knew."
I gave them a shy smile and a shrug while I topped off their cups.
"You know I can see a bit of Gina in you," replied the husband, pointing his finger at me as he made his assertion. "It's in the lips."
"Really? I think you can see it in her eyebrows," said his wife with an air of feminine wisdom. "She has the kind of eyebrows that never need plucking, just like Georgina's."
"How do you know she never plucked them?" Mr. Ramirez threw up his hands, though a playful smile twisted his lips. "She could have been plucking them to look a certain way, and maybe Ms. Creeke just does it the same way."
"Please call me Lyn." There's a bit of laughter in my voice, but neither of them were listening.
"She didn't pluck them," groaned Mrs. Ramirez. "Nor does this young woman. You can tell."
"You can't tell," said her husband with exasperation pulling at his words.
"You can tell," added Mrs. Elliot in a sweet voice.
Mr. Elliot, however, threw up his hands in surrender. "I'm not getting involved in this. I know nothing about eyebrows."
"So you knew my great aunt well, then?" I decided it was best to defuse the situation before there was a lover's spat over eyebrow maintenance.
"Oh, we are regulars." Mrs. Ramirez settled back into the sofa and rested against her husband's outstretched arm, as if there had been no disagreement between them.
"Yeah," continued her husband, "we usually come every couple of months. It's nice we can enjoy the discounted weekdays during our retirement. Especially during the holidays."
"We are a bit sad to miss out on the Christmas display this year though," sighed Mrs. Ramirez. "It's usually up by now."
"I have seen that almost the entire town is lit up," muttered Mrs. Elliot. "Something about a competition, right?"
