Chapter 9: Family Feuds Resurface
1268 Words
The Chalet Inn buzzed with the sound of guests arriving and holiday preparations in full swing. Claire balanced a tray of hot cocoa mugs as she weaved through the crowded lobby, her mind spinning with a never ending to-do list.
“Claire!” Emily’s sharp voice cut through the din, stopping Claire in her tracks.
She turned to see Emily storming toward her, clipboard in hand, her face tight with frustration.
“Where have you been?” Emily demanded.
Claire frowned. “What are you talking about? I’ve been running around all day. ”
“Oh, really?” Emily said, crossing her arms. “Because from what I’ve heard, you’ve been spending more time with Adrian than helping me with the inn. ”
Claire blinked, caught off guard. “What? That’s not true. ”
“Isn’t it?” Emily shot back. “While you’re off playing decorator and flirting with the handyman, I’m here trying to keep this place from falling apart!”
“Flirting?” Claire’s voice rose. “I’m not flirting with Adrian!”
Emily snorted. “Could’ve fooled me. Everyone in town is talking about how cozy you two have been lately. ”
Claire felt her face heat, but she pushed the thought aside. “This has nothing to do with Adrian. I’ve been working my butt off to help with the festival *your* festival, by the way. ”
“And what about the inn?” Emily countered. “Or Dad? Or Abby? You can’t just swoop in, take over the festival, and ignore everything else!”
Claire set the tray down on a nearby table with more force than necessary. “You know what, Emily? Maybe if you actually asked for help instead of barking orders at me, things wouldn’t feel so overwhelming!”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Emily said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t realize I had to hold your hand to get you to step up. ”
“Step up?” Claire’s voice cracked. “I dropped everything to come here and help, Emily! I left my job, my life all for this! And now you’re accusing me of not doing enough?”
Emily’s face darkened. “You think dropping in for a few weeks makes up for years of leaving me to handle everything? The inn, Dad, Abby do you have any idea how hard it’s been for me?”
Claire felt like she’d been slapped. “I didn’t leave to hurt you. I left to build a life for myself. You act like I had a choice!”
“You always had a choice,” Emily said, her voice breaking. “You just didn’t choose us. ”
The argument might have spiraled further if their father hadn’t appeared at the edge of the room, leaning on his cane. His presence was quiet but commanding, instantly drawing their attention.
“Girls,” he said softly, his voice steady despite its weariness.
Claire and Emily both turned toward him, guilt and anger warring in their expressions.
“This isn’t the time for fighting,” he said, easing into a nearby chair. “We’ve got too much to do. ”
Emily crossed her arms, her frustration still simmering. “She’s not helping, Dad. ”
“She’s doing her best,” their father replied. “And so are you. ”
“Doesn’t feel like it,” Emily muttered under her breath.
Their father sighed, leaning back in his chair. “You two have always been different like night and day. But at the end of the day, you’re sisters. And sisters need to stick together. ”
Claire hesitated, her chest tightening. “It’s not that simple, Dad. ”
“Nothing ever is,” he said with a small smile. “But you don’t have to figure it all out tonight. Just... don’t forget what matters most. ”
Emily looked away, her lips pressed into a thin line. Claire bit her lip, unsure what to say.
Later that night, Claire retreated to her room, her father’s words echoing in her mind. She stared out the window, watching the snow fall softly over the inn’s garden.
Her conversation with Emily replayed over and over, each word cutting deeper. She’d spent so much time trying to prove herself chasing success, avoiding the weight of her family’s responsibilities that she hadn’t stopped to consider how her choices had affected Emily.
A knock at the door broke her thoughts.
“Come in,” Claire called.
The door creaked open, and Abby poked her head in. “Mom said to leave you alone, but I wanted to check on you. ”
Claire smiled faintly. “I’m okay, kiddo. Come here. ”
Abby climbed onto the bed, curling up beside Claire. “Mom’s really mad, huh?”
“Yeah,” Claire admitted. “But she’ll be okay. ”
Abby looked up at her, her big eyes filled with curiosity. “Do you think Mom’s mad because you left?”
Claire’s breath hitched. “I think... Mom’s mad because she feels like I didn’t come back soon enough. ”
“Are you gonna leave again?” Abby asked softly.
Claire’s chest tightened. “I don’t know, Abby. I don’t want to, but...”
“But what?” Abby prompted.
Claire wrapped an arm around her. “But I need to figure out where I fit in all of this. ”
Downstairs, Emily stood in the kitchen, furiously scrubbing a pot. Her father sat at the table, watching her with quiet amusement.
“You’re going to wear that pot out,” he said after a moment.
Emily paused, letting out a frustrated sigh. “She just... drives me crazy, Dad. She waltzes in here like she’s doing us a favor and doesn’t realize how much I’ve been holding everything together. ”
Her father nodded slowly. “You’ve done a lot, Em. More than anyone could’ve expected. ”
“Then why does it feel like I’m the bad guy?” Emily asked, her voice cracking.
“Because you’ve been carrying too much for too long,” he said simply. “And now that Claire’s here, you don’t know how to let go. ”
Emily frowned, his words sinking in.
“Let her help,” he said gently. “Even if it’s not the way you would do it. She’s here now that counts for something. ”
Emily stared at the pot in her hands, her anger slowly giving way to exhaustion.
The next morning, Claire and Emily crossed paths in the kitchen, the tension between them still palpable.
“I made coffee,” Emily said stiffly, setting a mug on the counter.
“Thanks,” Claire said, taking it cautiously.
They stood in silence for a moment before Emily spoke again. “Look... about last night...”
“I get it,” Claire said quickly. “You’ve been doing everything on your own, and I’ve been— ”
“A pain?” Emily interrupted, a small smirk breaking through her seriousness.
Claire snorted. “Sure. Let’s go with that. ”
Emily sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I just... I’m not good at asking for help. And I know I’ve been hard on you, but it’s only because I’ve been so stressed. ”
Claire nodded, her expression softening. “I know. And I haven’t exactly made it easy for you. ”
They shared a tentative smile, the tension between them easing just a fraction.
“Let’s try not to kill each other before Christmas, okay?” Claire said, holding out her hand.
Emily shook it. “Deal.”
- Writer
