Have Yourself a Beary Little Murder

by Meg Macy

  I rolled over again, still restless. Our shop was closed for the party today, and I’d be able to sleep in. Our staff wouldn’t arrive earlier than one thirty. I forced myself to count sheep. Then counted numbers, from one hundred backward, until I lost track in the forties . . . and woke when Rosie’s stomach grumbled near my ear. I shoved her off my pillow.

  “Girl, you need a bath!”

  Rubbing my eyes, I checked the clock. Half past ten. Whoa. That couldn’t be right, given the bedroom’s darkness. I sat bolt upright. At a rumble of thunder, Rosie trembled and crept closer, whimpering. I hugged her to my chest.

  “It’s okay, baby. I’ll find out what’s going on.”

  I padded over to the window and stared in awe. Snowflakes swirled, mixed with a misty rain, and lightning flashed in the distance. Once again thunder rolled farther off. Wow. Michigan weather could be unpredictable, but thunder snow was the coolest phenomenon ever. I sank onto the cushion and watched until I was thoroughly chilled. A hot shower warmed me up, though. Once I used my hair dryer, I rushed Rosie downstairs and outside.

  She hated rain and snow, but I refused to sympathize. Once she returned, I toweled my dog dry and fed her breakfast. Ate a quick bowl of yogurt and berries, then hurried to don what I’d chosen to wear for today’s party.

  Maddie had long ago planned an “Ugly Christmas Sweater” theme for the party, but we scrapped that after adding Uncle Ross and Aunt Eve’s wedding. When the happy couple decided no one needed to dress up, I’d rejoiced and shoved the too-tight dress back in my closet. Instead, I wore comfortable black jeans and a red sweater with a huge green stocking appliqued on the front. A perfect pocket for the tiny candy canes that I planned to give all the kids attending.

  “Hooray, no heels today.”

  Or Spanx, come to think of it. I brushed my hair and braided two pigtails, then tied them with red velvet ribbons. I checked the mirror for mascara smudges and shoved my feet into red ballet flats. After checking that Onyx was happy, I barricaded the kitchen so that Rosie wouldn’t get into trouble. I donned a warm coat, opened an umbrella, and walked slowly to the factory. Uncle Ross had scattered salt over the parking lot and paths, which crunched underfoot. I waved to Maddie who was busy hanging silver bells over the doorway.

  “Sleeping Beauty, at last. I took pity on you, since Mom drove over at six this morning to put up the wedding decorations. She wanted a Scottish theme, but I’m glad she didn’t overdo it. What do you think?”

  Each table had a bouquet of purple heather in a glass vase, with raffia and a lovely plaid ribbon bow. The “tree” of white poinsettias in the corner looked stunning. My mother had strung more silver bells from the rafters, which tinkled softly from the overhead fans. And each place setting had a pair of Belgian chocolate bears in gold foil. In the center, a table for two had been covered in white linen and pinned with an ivy garland. Purple heather had been added to an evergreen and holly berry floral arrangement surrounding an unlit cream candle.

  “Reserved for the newlyweds? Fabulous. Are Mom and Dad acting as witnesses?”

  Maddie nodded. “Last week Aunt Eve dragged Uncle Ross to apply and pay for the marriage license. She had to search for their official divorce papers, too. And Mayor Bloom was supposed to marry them, you know. Aunt Eve asked Pastor Lovett instead.”

  “I bet Uncle Ross wasn’t happy about that.”

  “He wanted Judge Starr, but the courthouse isn’t open on Saturdays.”

  I snickered. “So he will be married in church, after all. We ought to crash it.”

  “Uncle Ross always said he’d be struck by lightning if he walked through the doors. Maybe the weather today is cooperating.”

  After another rumble of thunder, we cracked up and then clapped a hand over our mouths when Joan Kendall arrived early. Deon also carried in his DJ equipment and set up in the corner opposite the poinsettia tree. He’d promised to play all the Christmas favorites, old and new.

  “So what else needs to be done?” I asked Maddie.

  “Nothing until the caterers arrive.”

  Harriet Amato, who’d retired in late summer, breezed in with her family along with Pam North, Renee Truman, and Tim Richardson.

  “Is Jay coming today?” Pam asked me.

  “He’s near Grayling, teaching a woodcarving class.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” She looked crestfallen for a minute. “I’ll have to call and remind him about my New Year’s Eve party. He said he’d drop by at some point.”

  Pam wandered off to join the other staff. I wondered why she sounded so pleased. Jay insisted their relationship had ended long ago. I swallowed hard, recalling the New Year’s Eve when I discovered the truth about Flynn’s cheating. Finding him and a friend in our bed had been devastating. It had taken years for me to trust anyone again.

  I turned my attention to Harriet and her husband, trying hard to keep their grandkids from touching everything. Harriet’s bluish-silver curls hadn’t changed, and she still wore the chain with a pair of magnifying glasses around her neck.

  “Welcome to the party!” I greeted each of the kids with a tiny candy cane. “I see you brought gumdrops. Is that for the Head Start program?”

  “Nana says the kids will make candy trains,” one boy said. “How come we can’t make a train? I wanna make a train today.”

  “We’ll make one at home. No touching, I said!” Harriet pulled him away before he could grab one of the largest candy bars from a bag. She held up a large tote with a knitted afghan. “So where do we put the gifts for Ross and Eve? I made this for them.”

  “It’s lovely,” I said. So much for specifying “no gifts” on the invites we’d sent. “Your daughter and Mary Monroe did a beautiful job on my family’s teddy bear and flower wreaths for both funerals last week.”

  “She’s very talented, my Norma.” Harriet scolded the other grandson when he jumped to hit the doorway’s silver bells. “Leave them be, or we’ll have to go home.”

  More staff members arrived and dropped off bags of peppermint candies, licorice ropes, pretzels, gum, crackers, and smaller chocolate bars. I sent Tim Richardson to scrounge around the shipping department for a box to store it all. At a table where we planned the “Wrap a Bear” contest, Maddie set out rolls of holiday paper, bows and ribbon, tape, and other decorations. That was always another fun game.

  “Hey, Sasha.” Mary Kate looked adorable, her strawberry-blond hair curling over her shoulders, and wearing a sweater with Cookie Monster and NO COOKIES FOR SANTA spelled out. “We’ll set up the Hot Chocolate Bar over there.”

  “That game’s too easy,” Garrett said, shifting little Julie to his other arm.

  “No boxes or bags,just the teddy bears which are harder to wrap than you’d think. And whoever does the best job will get a plastic headband with bear ears.”

  “I’d be all thumbs,” Mary Kate said.

  “Some people go for the ‘worst job’ prize instead,” I told them. “It’s all in good fun. We donate the bears to the police department, and they’re given to comfort kids after a car accident, or if a social worker removes them from abusive homes. Another group donates blankets, and that helps when the kids end up in foster care. The power of teddy bears!”

  “Julie’s blanket and teddy bear give her comfort.” Mary Kate wiped away tears with her thumbs. “Sorry, I cry over everything now.”

  Isabel French arrived with her mother, although Mrs. French seemed uneasy until my parents arrived. Mom greeted her warmly and chatted about the Silver Birches. Relieved, Isabel rushed over to greet me with contagious enthusiasm.

  “I love working here! I can’t thank you enough for hiring me.”

  I smiled. “How’s your dad? Did he break anything in that fall?”

  “No, thank goodness. But he was pretty upset and bruised.”

  “This party is designed to kick back and relax, so enjoy yourself. It will help, especially given the craziness with our wizard bear.”

  “My au
nt said she bought one in Chicago. She loves it.”

  Flora Zimmerman sidled over and squeezed Isabel’s arm. “This one’s a fast learner, Sasha. The best you’ve hired in a while.”

  “Thank you.” Isabel blushed.

  “I’d recommend two other seasonal workers if you want to hire them full time. Chevonne Lang is a whiz at sewing, she’s over there with all those braids. And Karen Anderson has past experience crafting new patterns for outfits.”

  “Thanks, I’ll talk to my aunt and uncle about them. I wish I could hire Renee Truman, but she’s finishing her degree.”

  “In what?”

  “I’m not sure, but I can ask her. She’s over by the church pantry table.”

  Renee looked up from arranging a large donation of canned goods and boxes when we joined her. “My mom sent all this,” she said. “Dad lost his job a few years back, and it took him a while to find a new position. We’re grateful for the church’s help.”

  I nodded, although my family never experienced such hardship. My college degree had been paid for in full, minus a few scholarships, but I researched for Dad whenever he needed more than his law clerks could handle. So many people lived paycheck to paycheck, juggling loan payments, mortgages or rent, utility, health, and grocery bills, and my woes of a bad marriage and divorce paled in comparison. I resented Lois and Harry Nichols, though, who expected easy money and perks without putting in the work.

  “So what kind of degree are you working toward?” Flora asked Renee.

  “I started in physical therapy, but now it’s a seven-year doctoral program. I switched to occupational, which is a lot less time and money. But it’s hard, taking classes, studying, and working part-time, too.”

  “We were just talking about that,” I said. “If you can, I’d like you to keep working for us. I’m willing to work around a flexible schedule.”

  She hugged me tight. “It’s an answer to prayer. Oh, look!”

  Dad carried in the four custom-made plastic reindeer heads, complete with antlers and blinking red noses, from our shop’s storage room. And Mom brought the four child-size hobby horses, along with several rolls of duct tape. Maddie had come up with the idea at our first staff party, but the papier-mâché heads proved too fragile. Everyone loved the game, though, and it had quickly become a favorite tradition. I started tearing strips of duct tape.

  “I volunteered to videotape the Reindeer Race,” Garrett said to me. “Elle and Matt are jealous that we were invited to the party this year.”

  “After you baked all those teddy bear cookies for the open house? But Matt and Elle are coming with the kids, too, because they can’t miss the wedding. Plus, cake!”

  “That’s a bonus, especially since Mary Kate baked it.”

  We all pitched in to prepare for the game. Part of the fun was straddling the hobby horse sticks with their taped-on, awkward reindeer heads, despite being lightweight, and much too short for adults. Maddie also attached “reins” of sturdy rope beneath the heads. The rest of the staff who arrived gave a rousing cheer for the games, which drowned out the “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” song that Deon played over his speakers.

  “I’ll beat you today,” Tim said, but Deon shook his head.

  “No way, bro. Not gonna happen.”

  Dad walked over and showed off his YETI TO PARTY sweatshirt, with the blue and white furry and toothless Abominable Snowman from the Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer television special. Mom’s red OH DEER sweater with appliqued antlers looked cute on her, and she wore dangling reindeer earrings.

  “Did you both wear those outfits to the wedding?”

  “Of course not.” Mom laughed, eyeing the polished wood floor. “I don’t think I’ll risk my neck playing the reindeer game. It’s bound to be slippery in stocking feet.”

  “That’s the fun part,” Dad said, “seeing who breaks a leg.”

  “Not fun, actually. Someone always sprains an arm or ankle.”

  My cousin Matt and Elle arrived with Cara and Celia, who proudly carried two huge bags of candy and placed them on the Head Start table. When I tickled their necks, they both wriggled in excitement.

  “Looks like you two robbed a candy store. Did you? I bet you did.”

  “No, we didn’t!” They both giggled in delight.

  “Oh, look at Aunt Maddie. I want a dress like that,” Celia said.

  My sister twirled around for the girls. “I made this from a Christmas tree skirt. See the snowman, and a penguin, and Santa Claus in his sleigh.”

  “With all his reindeer,” Cara said, wide-eyed. “And it says, ‘Merry Christmas,’ too.”

  I hugged her. “You’re a fantastic reader. Good job.”

  Celia clapped her hands. “I want tights, Mommy, and a skirt like Aunt Maddie’s. Can you make me one?”

  “Oh, sure. I’m so handy with a needle,” Elle joked. “At least I can buy the tights.”

  “Maybe Mrs. Claus will sew her one.” Maddie winked. “I’ll ask.”

  She wore red tennis shoes with flashing lights on the soles instead of precarious high heels. Her gold headband had half a dozen small glittery ornaments glued on top. Maddie pulled it from her head and smoothed her short pixie cut back into place.

  “This thing hurts. I made it last night, but it would fit someone else better.”

  “Let’s see.” I tried it on and winced. “Ow. Nope, my head is way too big, so it must be perfect for a little girl.”

  Maddie handed it to Cara, who proudly slipped it on her head. “I’ll make one for you, Celia, before Christmas. That’s a promise.”

  Disappointed, she tugged on Cara’s arm. “Can we take turns wearing it?”

  “No, pumpkin.” Matt swung Celia up to perch on his shoulder. “Aunt Maddie promised to make you one, but your flashing shoes are prettier than hers.”

  I smiled at his red sweatshirt with BITE ME and a one-legged gingerbread man. Elle’s green shirt had a red satin box-shaped present with a gold lamé bow. Both girls looked sweet, too, in sweaters adorned with Santa and his reindeer. I handed them each a candy cane from my stocking. Elle agreed that they could to eat them and then handed me a card.

  “For the newlyweds. Or is that ‘oldyweds?’ Maybe we should call them ‘re-weds,’ huh? They’re not here yet, I take it.”

  “Sounds like them now.”

  A trumpet fanfare blared over the speakers. Everyone applauded when Uncle Ross and Aunt Eve walked into the factory, arm in arm. Tim stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly until the newlyweds stopped at their special table.

  “Oh, Ross, this is beautiful!”

  “Looks like Judith outdid herself, as usual. What happened to casual?”

  “You two don’t look that casual,” I teased.

  Aunt Eve’s classic pearls, red velvet dress, and matching heels with tiny bows reminded me of a vintage Barbie doll. Uncle Ross didn’t resemble boyfriend Ken in the least. Instead of a tux, he wore a black suit, red plaid vest, plus a deep green tie, and immediately stripped off his jacket. He looked so different without his trademark hat, although he’d trimmed his hair and beard, but the grumpiness remained.

  “Why the big to-do? We’ve been married before.”

  “Congratulations are still in order,” Mom called out, beaming.

  The crowd rushed over to offer handshakes, hugs, and cheek kisses. Aunt Eve waved her clutch purse to stave off a hot flash, her face flushed, and laughed when I handed her a sandwich baggie with white rice.

  “We decided not to throw it,” Maddie added, “even though it’s traditional.”

  “No chance of that, heavens! I’ll let you two pop out the babies.”

  “And when is that going to happen?” Mom asked me and my sister. “I’m ready to spoil some grandkids, you know. Dad and I won’t live forever.”

  “You might hear the pitter-patter of little feet sooner than you think!” My sister hooked a thumb my way. “Don’t look at me. Way too busy with the graphics studio.�
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  I snorted. “Like I’m sitting around, eating bonbons.”

  “Cookies, more like it.”

  “Stop it, you two,” Mom said. “Bickering’s not allowed at a wedding.”

  Relieved, I changed the subject. “Here I thought you’d wear your Scottish kilt, Uncle Ross. That would make it interesting in the Reindeer Race.”

  “You mean showing a bit of bare skin, I suppose,” he shot back and winked. “When do we eat? I’m starved.”

  “You’re first, so lead the way,” Mom said.

  The newlyweds filled plates from buffet spread of carved hams, roast beef and turkey, plus potatoes, roasted vegetables, fresh rolls, and butter. As a nod to our family heritage, Mom had added English and Scottish dishes—puffs of Yorkshire pudding, stewed cranberries, tiny mince tarts, trifles, and Scottish cream buns.

  “What, no haggis?” Uncle Ross chuckled when Aunt Eve hushed him.

  Mary Kate and Garrett ate close to the Hot Chocolate Bar, which proved popular with the kids. Garret kept watch on the coffee and tea urns, and handed out small bottles of water. Isabel French slid into an empty chair at my nearby table.

  “Sasha, have you heard any more about Alison Bloom?”

  I dabbed at a cranberry stain on the tablecloth. “Mom said she regained consciousness, but that’s all I know.”

  Inching closer, Isabel chose not to whisper due to the noise surrounding us. “Kristen said that Dave Richardson stopped by the funeral home to apologize, on Thursday. Remember Mrs. Bloom had that meeting yesterday with the funeral directors. I guess he wanted to know why she wouldn’t sell the business to him.”

  “Wait. Kristen’s talking to you again?”

  Isabel nodded, a little sheepish. “Yeah. She needed my input about selling the Silver Scoop. Lucas Vanderbeek’s buying our inventory and proprietary rights to the name.”

  “So Vivian bought only the building.” I pushed aside a half-eaten mince tart and bit into a cream bun. “So who’s this Vanderbeek?”