The Christmas Pony

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The Christmas Pony Page 3

by Melody Carlson

“Where are you taking that wood?” he asked as he walked alongside her.

  She explained about Mama’s laundry setup in the barn.

  “No kidding?” He scratched his head. “Your mother is a very enterprising woman.”

  Lucy frowned. “Enterprising?”

  He grinned. “That means she’s a hard-working businesswoman.”

  “Oh.” She nodded. “My daddy used to take care of everything. But when he died, Mama had to work harder than ever.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your father, Lucy.” Now he reached down and took the handle of the wagon from her. “Why don’t you let me help with that?”

  Lucy didn’t protest as he continued pulling the firewood toward the barn. “Can I ask you a question?” she said quietly.

  “Sure.” He paused to look at her.

  “Why do you and Veronica have different names?”

  He looked somewhat bewildered.

  “I peeked at the guestbook,” she confessed. “Veronica’s last name is Grant and yours is Prescott.”

  He still seemed slightly confused, almost as if he was surprised by this himself. But then his eyes lit up like someone turned the lights on. “Oh, I think I understand. You must have assumed that Veronica and I were husband and wife.”

  Now Lucy felt confused, but she just nodded dumbly.

  “Veronica and I aren’t married, Lucy. We simply met on the road.”

  “You met on the road?” Lucy tried to imagine them meeting on the road, shaking hands, exchanging names.

  “It’s a long story, but Veronica needed a ride and I was going her way. That’s how we met.”

  Lucy didn’t know what to say as she slid open the barn door and waited for George to pull the loaded wagon inside before she slid it closed again.

  “Oh?” Mama looked up from her ironing board in surprise.

  “George is helping me,” Lucy explained as she pointed over to the big old woodstove.

  George rolled the wagon over and started unloading the wood onto the nearby pile.

  “Well, thank you,” Mama told him in a stiff voice.

  “This is quite some setup you’ve got here.” George looked around the barn with an approving expression. “What a great idea for drying laundry in the wintertime.”

  “Yes, well, we don’t usually have our guests out here.” Mama pressed her lips together as she smoothed the front of her old apron.

  “I’m sorry to intrude.” George stepped back as if he were feeling uncomfortable. “I was just out for a walk, and it looked like Lucy needed a hand.”

  “George said you’re enterprising,” Lucy told Mama, trying out her new word and hoping to put things more at ease. Why was Mama acting so contrary today?

  “Enterprising is one way of putting it.” Mama was using a tight-sounding voice. “I just do what needs to be done.” She turned her attention back to where she was ironing a man’s white shirt. “So if you will kindly excuse me.”

  “Sorry to bother you, ma’am.” George tipped his hat, then made a quick exit.

  “Mama.” Lucy went over by the ironing board after the door was closed. “Why are you being rude to our guests today?”

  Mama used the back of her hand to push a wisp of hair off her damp forehead. “Was I being rude?”

  “It seemed like it to me.” Lucy peered curiously at her.

  Mama sighed. “I suppose it’s because I don’t completely approve of our guests, Lucy. I don’t like the idea of a man letting his wife run off to Hollywood to become a movie actress. It just doesn’t sit well with me, and I think—”

  “But Veronica’s not his wife,” Lucy clarified.

  Mama looked at her with startled eyes. “What?”

  “George just told me that they met on the road. They’re not married at all.” Lucy thought that this should fix everything in Mama’s mind.

  “They’re not married?” Mama set her iron down with a thud.

  “No, Mama.”

  “Well!” And just like that, without even moving the iron from the shirt it was still resting on, Mama stormed out of the barn without even bothering to close the door.

  Feeling alarmed and somewhat responsible for whatever was about to happen, Lucy set the heavy iron upright, then trailed after her angry mother. “What’s wrong, Mama?” she called, but Mama was walking fast, and in a moment they were in the kitchen where Mama was talking quickly to Grandma, using words like morals and scruples and conscience and ethics and saying how nobody seemed to have them anymore and what was the world coming to anyway.

  Mama threw her hands up in the air. “They are not even married,” she proclaimed as if it were a crime.

  “Oh my!” Grandma looked alarmed now. “What are you going to do about it, Miriam?”

  Mama was pacing back and forth in the kitchen now, wringing her hands and shaking her head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  “You could throw them out,” Grandma said.

  Lucy bit her lip. “Throw them out?” she repeated. “Why would we throw them out?”

  Mama’s frown lines deepened. “They are a bad influence on you, Lucy. As your mama, I can’t let them stay here like this.”

  “Why?” Lucy asked. “Is it because Veronica wants to be a movie actress?”

  Mama knelt down now, looking Lucy directly in the eyes. “No, that’s not the reason. Oh, I don’t really approve of that exactly, and certainly not under these circumstances. But it’s not a reason to throw them out.”

  “Then why, Mama?” Lucy felt close to tears now. “I prayed for boarders, just like you said, and God sent them to us. Why would you throw them out?”

  Still down at Lucy’s level, Mama pressed her lips together and looked up at Grandma, as if she thought she might have the answer.

  “It’s complicated, Lucy,” Grandma said slowly. “Your mama and I don’t approve of a couple sharing a room together if they’re not married, and it’s just—”

  “But George and Veronica aren’t sharing a room together,” Lucy exclaimed. “Veronica is staying in the front room and George took the one in back.”

  “Oh.” Mama stood back up, folding her arms across her front.

  “So . . . can they stay?” Lucy asked hopefully.

  Mama and Grandma looked at each other, but they still looked uneasy. “I don’t know for sure, Lucy.”

  “But we need the money, Mama. You said we do.”

  “Why don’t you go speak to them?” Grandma suggested to Mama. “Get to the bottom of it.”

  Mama firmly nodded. “I’ll do that.”

  Lucy started to go with her, but Grandma put a hand on her shoulder. “You stay here with me,” she said quietly. “This is grown-up business.”

  Lucy stayed in the kitchen, helping Grandma to make piecrust while Mama was gone. But as Lucy was rolling out the dough, she noticed George outside. It looked like he was coming back from his walk. “I guess Mama hasn’t talked to George yet,” she told Grandma, pointing out the kitchen window.

  “That might be easier.” Grandma shook her head. “She and Veronica can talk woman to woman.”

  Lucy wished she could overhear the conversation. More than that she hoped Mama wasn’t saying anything rude to Veronica. Even if Mama didn’t approve of movie actresses, it seemed wrong to be mean to her. What if Veronica took offense and decided to leave? Besides them needing the money, Lucy didn’t want Veronica to go.

  “Well, that’s all settled,” Mama said as she rejoined them in the kitchen.

  “What did you decide?” Grandma asked.

  Lucy stayed quietly put, hoping she might go unnoticed as she slowly moved the rolling pin across the dough on the kitchen table. Like Grandma sometimes said, Lucy just wanted to be like a fly on the wall as the grown-ups talked.

  “Lucy was right,” Mama told Grandma. “George and Veronica are not married. And they are not sharing a room. Veronica claims that they met while traveling. It seems Veronica needed a ride and George offered her one. App
arently there was no romance involved.” Mama made an exasperated-sounding sigh. “At least not yet, anyway. But when I voiced my concerns, Veronica assured me there would be no”—Mama cleared her throat—“no degeneracy going on. And I made it perfectly clear that I will tolerate none.”

  Lucy wasn’t sure what degeneracy meant and had no intention of asking, but based on the tone of Mama’s voice, she suspected it was not a good thing. Mostly she was relieved that Veronica Grant was being allowed to stay on with them.

  “Are you going to speak to George?” Grandma asked quietly.

  “I don’t think that will be necessary.” Mama was halfway out the back door now. “I have the woman’s word.”

  “Well.” Grandma slapped the flour off her hands. “I guess that takes care of that.”

  After the pies were in the oven, Lucy slipped upstairs. She knew she was supposed to go up there only to replace linens or tend to the needs of guests, but she told herself that it was possible the towels needed freshening by now. Mostly she was hoping that she’d get a chance to say something to Veronica. Just in case she was feeling bad about what Mama had said.

  “Hello, doll,” Veronica called out as Lucy walked quietly down the hallway. “What are you up to?”

  Lucy smiled at her. “Just checking to see if you need anything. Towels or soaps or anything? Or if you’d like a cup of tea?” They didn’t usually bring tea to their boarders, but Veronica seemed special.

  “Tea?” Veronica’s blue eyes sparkled. “Yes, that would be lovely, thank you. I take just a spoonful of sugar, please.”

  Excited at the prospect of delivering a cup of tea to Veronica, Lucy scampered downstairs and explained her plan to Grandma.

  “Tea?” Grandma scowled. “She expects you to serve her tea in her room?”

  Lucy shrugged. “It was kind of my idea.”

  Grandma’s scowl was replaced with amusement. “Oh, it was, was it?”

  Lucy grinned and nodded.

  “Well, just this once. No need to tell your mama about it.” She nodded to the stove. “The kettle is hot, and you know where the tea is.”

  “I’ll use an everyday cup and saucer,” Lucy promised.

  “That would be wise.”

  Before long, Lucy was carefully going up the stairs with the steaming cup of tea in both hands, trying to keep the amber liquid from slopping over the sides. “Here you go,” she said as she carried it into Veronica’s room.

  “You are an angel.” Veronica took the cup and saucer from her with a grateful smile. “I was just feeling plumb worn out from all the traveling and everything I’ve been through these past few days. I’d say you’re just what the doctor ordered, doll.”

  Lucy smiled happily. “Was it exciting traveling?”

  “Oh, it was exciting at first.” Veronica sat down on one of the chairs flanking the window and tipped her golden head toward the other. “Do you want to sit with me?”

  Lucy nodded eagerly and sat down. She didn’t want to be rude, but Veronica’s silky, lilac-colored dressing gown and matching bedroom slippers were so elegant and glamorous looking, it was hard not to stare. Outside of the movies, Lucy had never seen anything like them before. She wondered what Helen Krausner would say.

  “You see, I started out my trip with a friend.” Veronica reached for a strand of shining hair and twisted it around her finger so that it curled just like a perfect C beside her dainty pink ear. “At least I thought he was a friend. Marshall told me that he was going to manage my acting career, and that he had connections in Hollywood, and that he was going to make me into a star.” She looked upward and sighed. “But he turned out to be a dirty rotten scoundrel—a liar and a thief.”

  Lucy’s eyes grew wide. “A liar and a thief?”

  Veronica nodded as she sipped her tea. “Yes. He stole money from me. We got into a big fight over it, and I told him I no longer wanted to travel with him.” Her thin eyebrows arched high. “So he pulled over—right in the middle of nowhere—and he threw me and my luggage out! Right along the side of the road! Can you believe that?”

  Lucy shook her head. “What did you do?”

  “I was in shock at first. I mean, what was I supposed to do? Out there in the middle of nowhere with not a car in sight. But then I remembered a scene from that movie—you know, the one I told you about earlier. I was just about to do what Claudette Colbert did, when along came this pretty yellow car. The nice driver stopped and asked if I needed help. And that is how I met up with George.” She giggled. “In fact, I think George looks an awful lot like Clark Gable. Don’t you think so too?”

  Lucy shrugged. “I don’t know who Clark Gable is.”

  Veronica laughed. “Well, you will, doll. Believe you me, that man will be around for quite some time. And I’d wager that someday you’ll see Clark Gable and me right up there on the silver screen together.”

  “I can’t wait!”

  “Anyway, back to my story. After he rescued me out on the open highway, George and I traveled for nearly two days straight just to make it this far, and then his silly old car had to go and break down on us this morning.” She frowned. “I still don’t know what I’m going to do about that.”

  “About what?”

  “About getting myself to Hollywood, of course.”

  “Maybe you can just stay here for a while,” Lucy suggested hopefully. “You said you were tired and needed your beauty rest. Why not get some beauty rest right here?”

  “For a little girl, you’re a smart one, aren’t you?”

  Lucy smiled.

  “Now that your mother understands that”—she giggled in a nervous way—“that there is no sort of impropriety going on here, well, maybe I’ll do just like you said. I’ll get myself all rested up and refreshed real nice. Then I’ll be at my very best when I head off to Hollywood. Perhaps we’ll get lucky and George’s pretty car will get its motor fixed sooner than they expected.”

  “Hempley’s Garage is a very good place to get cars fixed.” Lucy declared this as if she were an expert in such things, but mostly she just wanted to be sure Veronica stayed with them for a while. It was almost like having a motion picture right in their own house, and Lucy wanted to hear more of Veronica’s interesting stories.

  “Well, it’s not like we had a choice in garages.” She chuckled. “Don’t take this wrong, but Maple Grove is a real hole in the wall.”

  “But it is nice and quiet here,” Lucy pointed out. “A good place to rest up.”

  “Yes. And I can’t really complain about the company either.” She made a dreamy looking smile. “Besides . . . you never know . . . there’s that old saying about the best-laid schemes of mice and men . . .”

  “What’s that mean?” Lucy asked.

  “Just that . . . well, sometimes things have other ways of working themselves out, if you get my drift.”

  “Oh.” Lucy nodded as if she understood.

  Veronica yawned and stood. “Thanks for the tea, doll. It was delish.”

  Lucy jumped up to take the dishes from her.

  “Now I think I’ll catch a few more winks of beauty rest.”

  With the empty cup and saucer in hand, Lucy tiptoed from the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Delish? Was that short for delicious? Lucy would have to remember to use that word sometime. And maybe she’d try to make her bangs curl around her fingers the way Veronica did. There was so much she could learn from someone like Veronica. As she quietly walked down the stairs, she wondered what Veronica thought about sweet gray ponies and if she’d like to take a walk down the road with Lucy in order to see one.

  4

  To Lucy’s dismay, Veronica did not emerge from her room until dinnertime. George had helped Lucy to pass the time with a couple games of checkers. He claimed not to be any good at checkers, and after the first game, she nearly believed him. But after the second game, she wasn’t so sure. She would’ve challenged him to a third one, but it was time to help Grandma in the kitchen. />
  When they sat down to dinner, Mama was acting very prim and proper, and Lucy knew this was Mama’s way of showing she was not entirely pleased with her boarders. If Mama was enjoying the boarders, she usually made cheerful small talk with them, going out of her way to make everyone feel comfortable. Tonight she was about as warm as the duck pond in January.

  Fortunately, Grandma was in a talkative mood and asked George and Veronica a number of questions about themselves. But it was Veronica who kept the conversation rolling along. She didn’t mind talking about herself one bit. So far, Lucy had learned that Veronica’s parents had owned a music store when Veronica was a girl. “But they had to give up the store in ’31,” she said sadly. “Just when I was getting good at the piano too. After the store was gone, I didn’t have a piano anymore. But I can play well enough to act like I’m a pianist in a movie.” With her eyes partially closed, she held her hands up over her plate and wiggled her fingers as if playing on a keyboard.

  “That looks very real,” Lucy told her.

  “What do your parents think about your aspirations of becoming a motion picture actress?” Grandma asked as she served dessert.

  “Well, my daddy threw a horrible fit. But my mother kind of likes the idea. She’s a real good singer, and she used to do some acting too, back in her day. She told me if I make it big, she’ll come out to California and live with me.” Veronica giggled. “I don’t think Daddy would much like that, though.”

  After dessert was finished, Lucy helped Mama to clean up the dinner things while Grandma sat in the front room with George and Veronica. Lucy wished she could join them, especially when she heard sweet ripples of Veronica’s laughter floating toward the kitchen. It seemed like Mama was doing all she could to keep Lucy contained in the kitchen. Finally, after the last dish was dried and put away, Lucy was about to slip out to the front room, but Mama insisted they needed more firewood first.

  Lucy considered protesting since the firewood box was nearly half full, but she realized it would probably save time (and trouble) to just hurry and fetch it. She pulled on her coat, then turned on the back porch light, hurried across the yard toward the woodpile with her wagon in tow, and started to load it up.

 

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