“Provisionally. But that was back in the summer because Claudia was a mess so we couldn’t make our usual week. No one mentioned it again so I thought we’d all agreed it wouldn’t work.”
“Why wouldn’t it work? The basic ingredients are all the same. We are the Hotel Book Club. This is the point where I remind you that I wanted to call it the Luxury Hotel Book Club just so that there could be no confusion about where I wanted to be staying, but the point is all we need is a hotel, a book and the three of us. That’s it.”
“It’s not the book club that’s the problem. It’s the time of year. It feels weird going away so close to Christmas. Christmas is family time. Buying the tree, wrapping the presents, decorating the house. We have a routine. Traditions. Sorry, I know you don’t do any of that. Am I being tactless?”
“Why would that be tactless? You know I’m not sentimental about the holidays.”
“I know, but that date you picked is when we head to the forest to choose our tree. We’ve done it every year since the kids were born. It’s their favorite tradition. I’d hate to disappoint them.”
Erica tried to relate and failed. For her, Christmas was just another day of the week. Growing up, her mother had encouraged her to fly the nest and live her own life as soon as possible. Never once had she suggested they choose a Christmas tree together.
“You just had Thanksgiving together.”
“Christmas is different.”
“Get your tree at the beginning of December. That way you’ll be able to enjoy treading on fallen needles for longer. Your kids can’t be your life, Anna. That puts pressure on them, and on you. And they’re adults now.”
“Ha! You wouldn’t always know that,” Anna said. “Do you have any idea how complicated a teenager can be?”
No, of course she didn’t know. She’d never been in a position where she’d contemplated having children, and she had no regrets about that. Her career was exciting and constantly stimulating. Would she have been prepared to sacrifice that to stay at home and argue about loading a dishwasher and feeding the dog? No way.
“We’re talking about one week, Anna, that’s all. You’ll be back before Christmas, so you’ll have plenty of time to deck the halls or whatever it is you do. Friend time and family time. Best of both worlds.”
“I need to think about it,” Anna said. “It’s my favorite time of year and I really want to feel Christmassy. No offense, but Christmas stuff makes you shudder.”
“I promise not to shudder.” Erica didn’t have much clue what feeling Christmassy involved, but she was willing to do some research and provide whatever was needed to keep her friend happy. Surely you could book these things as extras in a hotel? “And if you want Christmassy, then you’re going to love the place I’ve found. It’s idyllic. Quaint.” Her heart beat a little faster. “Even Santa would drool over it.”
“I don’t believe you. You choose sophisticated boutique hotels that make me want to redecorate my home. You don’t do quaint.”
“This time I have, but fortunately I’ve done it without sacrificing luxury. It’s the perfect compromise for everyone.”
“Mmm.” Anna clearly needed convincing. “What about the book? Have we decided what we’re reading? These days I fall asleep standing up so reading takes me a while. Did you talk to Claudia about doing book club in December?”
“I tried. She’s not picking up. I’ll call her later. She sounded really down when I spoke to her a few days ago so I want to check on her. After everything that has happened this year, a week away somewhere might be just what she needs.”
“You’re right. It’s time to help her get back on her feet,” Anna said. “But much as I love Claudia I do not want to plow my way through another biography of a chef or a politician as our book choice.”
Trying to find a book that appealed to all of them was always a challenge. Anna loved romantic fiction, Erica enjoyed thrillers and true crime, while Claudia preferred nonfiction.
“I was going to suggest the new Catherine Swift. It’s called Her Last Lover.”
“What?” Anna choked with laughter. “I’m officially worried. First, you tell me you’ve found somewhere Christmassy to stay, and now you’re reading romance? Is this what hitting forty has done to you?”
“This isn’t a romance.”
“She’s a romance novelist. I’ve read every single book she has written, most of them more than once. And you said the book is called Her Last Lover. That’s romantic. The last man she ever loves.”
“It’s not romantic. He’s her last lover because she kills him.”
“Oh!” Anna’s shock reverberated down the phone. “Are you sure you have the right author? Catherine Swift?”
“I think she’s writing this one under L.C. Swift or something. But the book is a thriller. The reviews are excellent and the movie is already in production.”
“I didn’t know she’d switched genres,” Anna said. “You’ve just broken my heart. Her last book was brilliant. Made me cry. That ending. Is this one scary? You know I don’t do scary.”
“I haven’t read it yet, but I promise we can keep the lights on if you’re scared. I’ve ordered you both a copy. Arriving tomorrow.”
“Does it have blood on the cover? I hate books that have blood on the cover.”
“No blood. Just a wedding ring and a very sharp-looking knife.” She could almost feel Anna’s shudder. “I’ll cover it in snowflake paper if that helps. Aren’t you a little intrigued as it’s Catherine Swift and she is your favorite author?”
“I don’t know. But I’m a little relieved you haven’t had a personality transplant overnight. I was starting to worry. Now, tell me more about this place you’ve found for us to stay.”
Erica felt something uncurl inside her. “I’ve sent you a link. Check your email.”
There was a pause and a sound of keys being tapped. “Okay, now I’m sure you’ve had a bang on the head,” Anna said. “This is—wow. It looks like something from a fairy tale.”
Fairy tales often had grim endings, Erica thought, and felt another stab of doubt.
“You approve?”
“Yes, although—” there was another pause “—this really doesn’t seem like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a city person,” Anna said. “This place will be all about snowshoeing and cozy nights in front of the fire with hot cocoa. I’m the one who loves fresh air and walks in the country. You’re all about bright lights, cocktails and designer shopping.”
“That’s true, but I do that all the time. This is an escape.”
Escape? Who was she kidding?
“But you don’t usually want to escape. Nothing frustrates you more than being in the middle of nowhere. Remember that summer we booked that hotel in the Catskills? You left a day early.”
She’d forgotten how well Anna knew her.
“There was a crisis.”