Aww, thank you all so much. Yeah, it is sad when friends grow apart… It's happened to me before. D: Ooh, Ann's special romantic interest… hmm… anyway, the garden she's cleaning is that garden you can see from OUTSIDE the inn, but you can't go into. I always wondered about that. Now, this is a long one. Forgive me.
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Chapter four: The (bad) festive aftertasteI do a little cleaning as well as being a waitress. I enjoy it, y'know, I see it as a sport; it's just a pity there aren't Olympic games for it! I mostly clean off the tops of the tables and counters, wash the dishes, make the beds – I don't clean the bedrooms, because our motto is "Our inn is a home to you, so you darn well treat it like your home". Which means guests clean up after themselves. I suggested papa take out the "darn" to make it more family friendly, but he said that had been the motto for 10 generations back. So I guess it's staying.
On the subject of our motto, the lodgers actually do become part of our family. Sometimes they stay for months, even years sometimes. They're allowed to wander into the kitchen, or sit down on the spare chairs to watch television with us; so really, you wouldn't trash your own home, would you? Well, I wouldn't doubt some people. But they become family because it's not a hotel, there are only a couple of rooms in the hotel.
We had waved goodbye to a flame-haired, cold-eyed girl called Nami in early winter. It had taken a while for her to get used to us, but it turns out her heart was as warm as her hair. She was pretty intelligent, and you could tell she'd seen a lot in her time. I liked Nami because she liked good food, and anyone who likes good food can't be stupid, or cold. She really loved gratin and quite liked apple pie, especially papa's apple pie. She also really liked history, or nature programmes.
If there's one thing I always remember about a lodger is their favourite dish and their favourite programmes.
I cried when Nami left. She'd never be really close or whatever, but she was like my cool older sister. I never really cry; I'm neither sentimental nor unrealistic, but I felt the tears breaking out from behind my eyes, running down my cheeks. I didn't feel very sad, actually, because it happened all the time; they came and left.
Every single one of the lodgers is going to leave one day.
And yet the tears poured. Nami gave me a confused, but fond look at me, like an owner might give an energetic little puppy. She gave me one last wave and boarded the boat, and went inside.
I wondered what she was doing, right this minute. I was cleaning the gardens out, as it had been a busy night last night. Knowing her, she'd be asleep. That Nami! I swiped the cobbles of the garden thoroughly. It wasn't a proper garden; no, it was just a nice little place with a couple of tables and benches, with some trimmed hedges, and a couple of roses. I emptied an ashtray, and wiped up some … ick.
I was feeling pretty depressed, if you must know, since it was the 26th. That meant the festiveness was all over; y'know, that lovely sparkly atmosphere, where lights are on the ivy vine, and when fresh snow lands on your shoe. Now, it was the aftermath, the aftertaste, and believe me, the aftertaste isn't pleasant. The snow was grey and mushy, the lights were fizzling out like a blow out candle. I stuck my tongue out; I could taste the difference. Before the Starry Night festival, the air throbbed with anticipation and wafts of cinnamon. Now the air was hard, cold and spiteful. The sky was darkening as well. I wiped the last of the tables off.
It had been one busy night, last night. Like any self-respecting, decent, good-for-something inn, we hold events every now and again. Y'know, quiz night, karaoke, "who-can-drink-the-most-wine-without-passing-out", fancy dress parties, darts, all round parties, sometimes a play is organised and sometimes we get a band playing or something. We do it on festivals sometimes, like on New Year's after the festival, a lot of people come round to ours, sometimes not getting home till dawn. Never on the actual Starry Night festival, since we consider it bad taste to hold a bar event on a religious festival. The Starry Night festival, Thanksgiving, the Music festival, the Harvest festival, any livestock festival; those are in praise of the Harvest Goddess.
Now, I believe in the Harvest Goddess. Most of us do. But I was a practical girl, y'know? I didn't think she was a real goddess; I thought she was a woman who founded Mineral town hundreds of years ago. But I knew she has got a right to be praised, I guess, so I did; I felt a little bad, but I didn't believe in fairies, goddesses, sprites, love at first sight, luck, and especially not magic. And Karen believed in all of them.
Going back to the Harvest Goddess; I didn't think she was an ordinary woman. I knew she was a very good woman, a very beautiful one, who did many, many things for this town. I did believe that when she was a very old woman, she died next to the pond that is now known as the Goddess pond. I believed everything in the "Goddess's Book", but I switched off when it comes to magic. I was just practical, I guess. Now I look back on it, I'd call myself "narrow minded", but I'll carry on from me cleaning out the gardens. Where was I? Oh yeah.
I dusted off my prim white apron, and went back into the inn, from the door that went into the grand hall. This hall certainly was grand; it was where the diners ate, and where the counter for the bar was. There was a platform in the corner of the hall, with two scarlet curtains on each side, perfect for all the events listed. Sometimes a piano would be moved up there, sometimes a microphone, sometimes just about anything at all. It had been an all round party, but some people dressed up in silly costumes, and we ended the night with karaoke.
'Hey, Ann!' I heard my father's voice attempt to break its way through my thoughts. It failed though. Papa dressed up as Santa Claus, for goodness' sake, butt he was convincing, even though he's a redhead, like me. He was just plump enough and he had the voice spot on. He made me dress up as a Christmas fairy, much to my dismay.
The lights had been turned off, and the violet headlights had been turned on. When karaoke started, the local policeman Harris started it off with "Last Starry Night festival", though he sang out of tune. Manna firstly wanted to do a festive one too, then with a lot of fussing and tossing of her raven hair, then swapped to some old hit by The Golden Chickens; then Jeff, who had been forced on, sang some folk song in a shy, quiet voice, but somehow got a huge applause.
Popuri flounced on, giggling, and first started singing a strange song called "I love Kai, I love Kai, I love Kai". I clapped for her anyway. I kept getting a lot of Christmas fairy remarks, which I couldn't tell were compliments or just plain creepy. I had been mixing lots of drinks all night. A couple of people sang some more songs, I remember Elli sang "Chocolate cake for you,' in her dear little voice, Ellen sang yet another folk song that got loud applause, Duke sang "Intoxicated". Karen ended the night with an unexpected choice; a hymn I didn't know, but I knew she was in the choir. She was definitely the best singer, but I thought she'd sing some loud, fast, catchy song.
'Ann!'
This time I did break out of my thoughts, and turned around. I saw Papa standing there, wearing his best waistcoat, next to a tired looking guy, with a sort of irritatingly needy look about him, but I suppose he couldn't help that. He had a baby face, with a round shape, though quite a prominent jaw and wide dark eyes, and long dark hair, creamy pale skin and broad shoulders.
Oh. The new lodger. I'd forgotten.
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Hmmmm, who could it be? Haha, lack of imagination in this one, but I quite liked the fact I included that SHE WAS CLEANING OUT THAT FORBIDDEN GARDEN. : And the whole "inn events" were fun to write about; I always wondered if the inn ever held stuff like that… so I included it in my fanfic. oo