The Christmas Bus

by Melody Carlson

  “Be where?” Edith felt worried now.

  “At the inn, of course. You didn’t think I’d have it here, did you, Edith? Goodness knows, you’ve got far more room than I. And if you’re not too busy, could you bake something yummy? You’re such a good cook.”

  What could Edith say?

  “And it might be easier if you made the punch too. Maybe something pink, since the decorations are blue and pink.”

  “Cake and punch,” said Edith. “Anything else?”

  “Well, do you happen to have mixed nuts and those little pastel mints on hand?”

  “No, but I can get some.”

  “Oh, good. I think that should do it.”

  “How many people do you think we can count on, Helen?”

  “Hmm . . .” Edith imagined her counting on her fingers. “I’d say at least twenty.”

  “Twenty?” Edith was surprised. “On such short notice? And just two days before Christmas?”

  “Maybe even thirty.”

  Edith was not so sure. “Okay, well, I’ll just make sure we have plenty, and if there are leftovers, I can use them during the holidays.”

  “Of course.”

  They said good-bye and hung up, and Edith just shook her head and sighed.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Charles as he came in to refill his coffee mug.

  “Oh, nothing much. But it now looks as if I’m the one hosting the baby shower tomorrow.”

  “I thought Helen was taking care of everything.”

  “So did I. But it seems her way of taking care of it is to have it here.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder. “Poor Edith, you’ll be ready for a vacation by New Year’s.”

  She forced a smile. “Actually, I should be thankful. I’m very happy for Amy. And Helen has the hardest task anyway.”

  “What’s that?”

  She laughed. “Lining up guests who are willing to come to a shower for a girl they might not have met, who doesn’t live here, and whose bright-colored bus is causing a bit of a fuss in town.” Then she told him what the mayor had said.

  “Don’t worry about it, Edith. I’ll talk to him. And I was just about to get Collin to come with me to get parts. We’ll probably have to go out of town for them.”

  “Well, he’s out shoveling snow,” said Edith.

  Charles smiled. “Good for him. Did you ask him, or did he just offer?”

  “He just found the shovel and started doing it.”

  “And you think Amy will be okay here without him?” asked Charles with a slight frown. “I mean, if she should suddenly decide to go into labor and have her baby or need help or anything.”

  Edith laughed. “You sound just like an anxious father to be.”

  “Well, these kids seem a little helpless . . .”

  “I know. And don’t you worry. Amy’s downstairs at the moment, doing several loads of laundry. I’ll be here. She should be just fine. And if she should go into labor, there is always Helen.”

  He nodded. “Then I guess you’re all in good hands.” He reached for his plaid wool coat and went out the back door. Edith watched him going out to speak to Collin, who had nearly finished shoveling the sidewalk by now.

  “Edith?” called a familiar voice. “Where are you?”

  “In the kitchen, Myrtle,” Edith called back.

  “Edith,” said Myrtle as she came into the kitchen, “you have a problem.”

  “And that would be?”

  “There’s a loose board on the stairs, and I nearly fell and broke my neck just now.”

  Edith reached out and put a hand on Myrtle’s fleshy forearm. “Are you okay?”

  Myrtle, looking slightly indignant, pursed her lips and said, “I think so. But it was quite a scare.”

  “Oh, dear. I’m so sorry. Do you recall which board it was?” Edith had come down the stairs herself this morning but hadn’t noticed anything. Of course, Myrtle was quite a bit heavier, so it was possible that her weight had helped to loosen it.

  “Second one from the top.”

  Edith looked out the window in time to see Charles and Collin driving away in the car. “Oh, dear,” she said again. “I wonder if I could fix it myself.”

  Myrtle shook her head. “Not likely. You’ll need to call in a handyman.”

  Edith considered this. Usually, she and Charles liked to do as much as possible for themselves, to spare their finances, but then again, if the board was really loose, she couldn’t risk having a guest take a fall. “I’d better go look at it,” she said suddenly. “And perhaps keep people off the stairs until it’s fixed.”

  She saw Leslie and Megan just coming down the stairs now. “Did you notice a loose board up there?” she asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I did,” said Leslie. “It must’ve just happened, because I don’t recall it wobbling like that before.”

  “Oh, dear. I better call a handyman right away.” So Edith got on the phone and dialed Peter Simpson’s number. Peter had occasionally helped them with bigger projects at the inn. As it turned out, Peter was not busy and promised to come right over. Edith hung up the phone and felt better.

  “And what are you two doing today?” she asked Leslie and Megan. So far she’d been so busy with the other guests that she’d barely had a chance to talk to these two.

  “I’m not sure,” said Leslie, and Megan just shrugged. “We’ve already been to town to see Santa . . . and it’s awfully cold out there today . . .”

  “I have an idea,” said Edith, leaning down to look into Megan’s big blue eyes. “Do you like to decorate cookies?”

  “With frosting and stuff ?” Megan looked hopeful.

  Edith nodded. “Yes, with frosting and stuff.”

  “Can I, Mommy?”

  Leslie looked at Edith. “Are you sure? I mean, Megan hasn’t had much experience with—”

  “I’m sure by the time she finishes, Megan will be an expert. I have about eight dozen sugar cookies in the freezer, all ready to be decorated.” Edith laughed. “Not that I expect Megan to do all of them.”

  Leslie smiled. “And if it’s okay, maybe I could help her. I love doing creative things like that.”

  “Oh, it’s better than okay. It would help me immensely. In fact, I was just about to invite you, as well as all the female guests at the inn, to come to a rather impromptu baby shower that I’m hosting tomorrow morning.”

  “A baby shower?” Megan clapped her hands and danced around. “I’ve always wanted to go to a baby shower. Can we, Mommy? Can we?”

  Leslie just smiled. “I don’t see why not.” Then she looked at Edith. “But we’ll have to get something for the baby. And I have no idea what to get. Is there a place in town with baby things?”

  So Edith explained who the shower was for and that Rudolph’s Five and Dime had a limited selection of baby things and Amy could probably use just about anything. “And can you come too, Myrtle?” she asked the older woman.

  “I don’t know . . . I still have a lot to do for the Christmas pageant. And besides,” Myrtle frowned now, “I don’t really like baby showers.”

  Megan looked at the old woman in disbelief. “You don’t like baby showers? Why not?”

  “Too many women in one room, and everyone yakking their heads off, all at once. Just gets on my nerves.”

  Edith tried not to look too relieved as she patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Myrtle. I understand completely.”

  “I guess I could pick up something for the baby though.” She grimly shook her head. “Poor child . . .”

  “How about if Megan and I make a quick run to town now?” said Leslie with excitement in her voice. “We’ll find something for the baby, then get back here to do cookies.”

  “Sounds like a great plan.”

  Edith posted a sign warning guests about the second stair tread and then went into the kitchen to get things ready for cookie decorating. She would cover the dining room table with waxed paper and just leave a
ll the frostings and other tempting goodies out there in case any other guests wished to participate. It was the way she’d always done it with her own children, and usually, by the end of the day, the cookies were all decorated, although at final head count there were always quite a few missing in action.

  After getting things ready for cookie decorating, Edith turned on her computer. She’d learned how to make cards at her last computer class, and so she found the right program, picked a baby graphic, and wrote out a very simple invitation that she neatly folded and addressed and slipped under the doors of all the women at the inn. Silly perhaps, since she’d already informed more than half of them. But it made the shower seem more special to go to this little bit of extra trouble. Amy emerged from the basement just as Edith was returning to the kitchen.

  “Oh, do you need help?” offered Edith when she saw how off balance the very pregnant Amy looked while carrying a full basket of clean and folded clothes.

  “I’m okay,” said Amy. “But maybe you could get the door for me.”

  So Edith went ahead of Amy, opening and closing doors until they reached the bus, and this time it was not quite as laborious since Collin had made a clean path right up to the bus’s door. “Oh, yes,” said Edith as she opened the door. “Charles and Collin went to get parts for the engine. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “That’s great.” Amy smiled. “You guys are great. And I totally love your laundry room. You have so much counter space and stuff,” she held the basket up proudly, “that I actually folded our clothes for a change. Collin will be surprised.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “I still have one more load down there in the dryer, but my back was starting to ache so—”

  “Don’t worry about it. You go in there and have a little rest. We don’t want you wearing yourself out, or going into labor, especially since your baby shower is scheduled for tomorrow morning.”

  Amy let out a happy squeal. “That is so totally cool!”

  Edith nodded. “I’d better get back now.” But as she walked back to the inn, heading for the front door to make sure that the steps had been properly deiced, she couldn’t help but agree with Amy. It was so totally cool!

  Before Edith reached the front porch, she heard loud female voices arguing. They sounded as if they were coming from the direction of the church. She turned to see Myrtle and Olive, face-to-face, near the side door that led to the church kitchen, in what appeared to be some kind of standoff. She paused to watch them for a moment, and as the volume of their voices elevated, she grew seriously concerned that this argument might actually come to blows. She hurried across the street to see if she could help.

  “You are not going to bring a bunch of stinking farm animals into this church!” shouted Olive. “I forbid it.”

  “Who died and made you God?” spat Myrtle.

  “Edith!” exclaimed Olive when she saw her approaching. “Help me out with this lunatic.”

  “What’s wrong?” asked Edith, fearing that she was already in over her head.

  “This woman,” said Olive dramatically, “wants to bring live animals into our church, the house of God—chickens and pigs and—”

  “I never said pigs!” argued Myrtle. “I only thought it would make the pageant more interesting to have live animals, and I talked to a fellow on the phone this morning who said—”

  “We are not going to have animals in church!” shouted Olive. “And the sooner you get that into your thick head, the better!”

  “What makes you think that you get to make all the decisions?” demanded Myrtle with her feet spread apart and hands on hips.

  “Because I’m the one in charge.”

  “Says who?”

  Olive let out an exasperated groan and turned to Edith. “Please, Edith, do something! Or do I need to call Pastor Charles? This is really your fault, you know. Myrtle is your guest, and you’ve allowed her to help.”

  “So, she’s been helping you?” asked Edith weakly.

  “Helping me?” Olive practically shrieked. “With help like this, I might as well go out and hang myself.”

  “Oh, Olive . . .” Edith sighed. “There must be some way to resolve this.”

  “Yes!” said Olive. “And that’s to tell her no farm animals.” Then she turned and marched into the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

  “Are the children around?” asked Edith in a quiet voice.

  “No,” said Myrtle, still clearly unhappy. “They won’t be here for another twenty minutes.” Now she looked at Edith. “And how do you think the children would react to having live animals?” she asked. “Do you think they would enjoy feeling the nose of a fuzzy donkey or rubbing their hands through the thick curly wool of a sheep?”

  Edith considered this. “Well, yes, I’d have to agree with you there, Myrtle. Kids love animals.”

  Myrtle smiled as if she had the upper hand now. “And if having animals around was good enough for the baby Jesus, I can’t see how they could do much harm to a church, can you?”

  “Well, no. Not actually . . . but then there’s Olive . . . and she’s dead set against it, Myrtle. And, really, she’s the one who’s supposed to be in charge. You’re only supposed to be helping her.” Edith was actually wringing her hands, something she hadn’t done since childhood. “Please, Myrtle, can’t you try to get along with her—for the sake of the children?”

  Myrtle nodded. “This whole pageant is for the children, Edith. I won’t do anything to ruin it for them.”

  “You won’t?” Edith felt a smidgen of hope.

  “Of course not. I want them to enjoy this time—and to remember it always.”

  “Oh, good.” Edith glanced back to the inn just in time to see a small pickup parking in front. “I think my handyman is here now. I better go.”

  11

  Within minutes, Peter had repaired the loose step and then headed off to the kitchen in search of Edith.

  “All done,” he announced.

  Edith had just put in the last ingredients for tomorrow’s shower cake. She’d decided to make it lemon with cream cheese frosting. And she would decorate it with pink and blue. Not terribly clever, but this was fairly last minute, and sometimes one just had to make do.

  “Already?” she said as she turned on her big mixer and moved toward her little desk. “What do I owe you?”

  Peter glanced around the kitchen, then grinned as his eyes spied something. “Are those cinnamon rolls?”

  “Want one?” she offered.

  “Got any coffee?”

  “I do for you,” she said. “Why don’t you sit down and make yourself comfy.”

  “I can’t believe that none of your kids came home for the holidays,” said Peter. “If my parents’ place was as great as this, I’d sure make the effort to go see them.”

  “How are your folks doing?” she asked as she set not one but two cinnamon rolls before him. “Do they like Arizona?”

  “I guess. But I don’t get it.”

  “Well, your mom said the winters here were getting to her. And then there was your dad’s bypass surgery. You can’t really blame them, Peter.” She filled the coffeemaker with water.

  “Maybe not. But when I get old, I don’t plan on leaving. Christmas Valley is my home.”

  She smiled to herself as she imagined Peter old and gray but still tromping around town. “But you have to admit, it’s not easy.”

  “Easy isn’t always best,” he said.

  She turned on the coffeemaker and turned off the mixer, glad to be rid of the extra noise. “Speaking of best, when are you going to start dating again, young man?”

  He groaned. “You sound just like my mom.”

  “Well, it’s a pitiful waste if you ask me, Peter. Just because your first wife didn’t have the good sense to see that she got a great guy doesn’t mean there’s not someone else out there who would appreciate you.”

  “Not a whole lot of single women to pick from around here.”
>
  She considered this. At one time, she’d even tried to match Peter up with Krista, but that had turned into a disaster. “It was like going out with my own brother,” Krista had told Edith afterward.

  “Christmas Valley has its share of single women,” she told Peter, trying to think of a single one that might appeal to him. “But perhaps none that are right for you.”

  “You got that right.”

  “How about some of those online matchmaking services? I get pop-ups and email ads from things like that all the time. Not that I need anything like that.”

  He laughed. “Somehow I just don’t see myself as an online dating kind of guy.”

  She sneaked the still-brewing pot out and filled a mug, then set it down in front of him. “Well, maybe you should give it a try.” She sat down across from him. “You’re not getting any younger, you know, and it’s awfully nice, as one gets older, to have someone beside you.”

  He nodded wistfully. “Can’t disagree with you on that.”

  “Look, Mommy!” called a child’s voice in the dining room. Edith was certain it was Megan. “Everything’s all ready!”

  “Let me put our stuff away first,” called Leslie. “And you go wash your hands.”

  “Cookie day?” said Peter.

  “Yes. Remember when you used to come over and help?”

  “Those were good times.”

  “And sledding,” she said with a sigh. “You kids had such fun at One Tree Hill.”

  “Yeah, and if your kids had had the good sense to come home, we’d be out there doing it again.”

  “Plenty of snow for it too.” She stood up and went back to her desk now. “Seriously, Peter, what do I owe you for that stair?”

  “You already paid me.” He grinned at her. “And then some.”

  “Well, you take your time and finish up in here. I need to go out there and help them get all set. They’re really doing me a big favor since I’m so busy just now. Those poor cookies probably never would’ve gotten decorated at all.”

  “And Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without Mrs. Ryan’s famous Christmas cookies.”

  She laughed and went out to the dining room. Before long, she had Leslie and Megan all set, and it looked as if Leslie really knew what she was doing too. “I’ve got to go put a cake in the oven,” she told them, “for the shower tomorrow.” But before she could get back to the kitchen, she heard voices in the foyer, one that was definitely Myrtle’s, and worried that Myrtle might be stirring up more trouble or getting into a flap with poor Mr. Benson, Edith decided to go see.