“Come on,” Myrtle was saying, as it turned out, to Michael Thomas. “You won’t be sorry.”
“But I, uh . . .” Michael looked slightly helpless.
“Myrtle?” said Edith with a bit of a warning tone in her voice. “What are you doing?”
Myrtle turned around and gave Edith a sheepish expression. “Nothing . . .”
“Are you pestering Michael about—”
“She’s fine,” he said quickly, tossing Edith an assuring smile. “She’s just trying to talk me into taking her somewhere in my car.”
“Myrtle, please, don’t be bothering the other guests.”
“This is between me and Michael.”
“I guess it couldn’t hurt,” he said now. “Lauren walked to town and won’t be back for a while. I was just going to read and maybe catch a nap.”
“You can nap anytime,” said Myrtle.
Michael laughed. “I guess you’re right.”
Edith frowned. She didn’t like the idea of Myrtle bullying the guests around. And she suspected that Myrtle had seen Michael’s sporty little Porsche and just wanted to get him to take her for a joyride. Although how Myrtle was going to get her portly self in and out of that little car was a bit of a mystery.
“Have fun,” said Edith, imagining Michael using a giant shoehorn to pry Myrtle from his car after they were done.
When Edith came back through the dining room, she was surprised to see that Peter had joined Leslie and Megan. He was bent over a toy soldier cookie and frosting him in what Edith could only imagine must be camouflage.
“Decided to help out?” she said.
“Do you mind?” he asked without looking up.
“Not at all. Did you introduce yourself to the ladies?”
He looked up now. “Of course. I told them that your kids and I used to do this every year, and Megan invited me to join them.”
“And he’s making G.I. Joe,” said Megan, giggling.
“An untraditional Christmas cookie,” he admitted, “but in honor of our armed forces.”
“I think it’s nice,” said Leslie as she admired his work. “And it looks like real camouflage too.”
“Peter is our local artist,” Edith informed them.
“A real artist?” said Megan with big eyes.
“That’s right,” said Edith. “And he usually decorated the most interesting cookies too.” Then she went into the kitchen to finish her cake making. Hopefully, the batter hadn’t set too long. But it looked okay when she put the pans into the oven and even better when she took them out. Nice golden brown.
She set them on the counter to cool, then went upstairs to search for something. At least, she hoped she still had it. It was a baby quilt that she’d sewn for Tom and Alicia’s last baby. Made from an adorable fabric that was covered with farm animals, the colors had been bright and bold. But then she’d heard that Alicia had chosen pastels for the nursery, and so Edith had put together a completely different quilt. She figured she’d have this one on hand for the next baby, and wasn’t there always a next?
As far as she could remember, she hadn’t given it away yet. After several minutes of intense hunting, she finally unearthed it in a plastic crate, along with a few other baby items. Things she’d probably gotten on sale for her own grandchildren, thinking that she would send them, or have them on hand when they came to visit her . . . and then, of course, she forgot all about them. Oh, well.
Since all seemed calm and quiet, for a refreshing change, Edith decided to take the time to wrap the baby gift, as well as to put up her feet. Already it seemed to have been a long day, or maybe the years were starting to catch up with her. Before she knew it, she had dozed off.
She awoke to what sounded like an urgent knocking on her door. “Edith?” called a female voice. “Are you in there?”
Thinking perhaps the inn was on fire, or worse, she stumbled to the door and opened it to see Lauren, Michael’s wife, standing there. And she was clearly upset. “What’s wrong?” asked Edith with a racing heart.
“It’s Michael!” said Lauren breathlessly. “I went to town to get a gift for the baby shower, and he was going to have a nap while I was out, but now I get back and he’s not in our room. And then I went downstairs and he’s not down there, and his car’s not here, and I’m just so—”
“It’s okay,” said Edith soothingly. “Michael simply took Myrtle for a little drive.”
Lauren blinked. “A little drive?”
“That’s right. Of course, it was all Myrtle’s idea, but somehow she talked him into going. I’m sure she just wanted to have a ride in that pretty little car—”
Now Lauren burst into tears.
“It’s okay,” said Edith again. “Really, you don’t need to be worried.”
But Lauren just continued to sob, until Edith didn’t know what to do, other than to guide her into the bedroom, something she had never done with a guest before. She sat Lauren down in the rocker, then sat herself down in Charles’s recliner and waited for Lauren to recover. At first impression, Lauren had seemed a very together and controlled sort of person. A career woman, Edith had imagined, due to the classy business suit and leather briefcase. And certainly not the sort of woman who was given over to hysterics. Why should Lauren be so upset over Michael having gone somewhere with Myrtle—surely she couldn’t be jealous of the heavyset woman who was old enough to be Lauren’s grandmother? Finally, Lauren’s sobs softened some, and Edith handed her a box of Kleenex.
“I’m so sorry,” Lauren said as she blotted her face with a tissue. “I didn’t mean to fall apart like that. It’s just that I got so scared—it’s like I knew that I’d lost him.”
“You’re a beautiful young woman,” said Edith, still feeling confused. “I’m sure your husband would never leave you, and especially for someone, well, like Myrtle.”
Lauren looked directly at Edith now, first with a shocked expression, but then she began to smile, and finally she actually laughed. Edith wondered what the joke was, but she didn’t ask. She was just relieved to see Lauren happy.
“No, no . . .” said Lauren. “I didn’t think that Michael had run off with—” she chuckled, “Myrtle, of all people. But, well, you see, the reason we came here for Christmas, rather than being with our families . . . oh, it’s a long story.”
“Well, you’ve aroused my curiosity,” said Edith. “And I have time.”
“And after all I’ve subjected you to, you probably deserve an explanation. Let me give you the short version. You see, Michael was diagnosed with and treated for cancer not long after we got married, about five years ago. And after all that time in remission and no symptoms, we believed that he was cancer free. We were even beginning to think about starting a family—” Her voice broke, and she looked down at her lap.
“But it came back?”
She nodded without speaking.
“And it’s serious?”
She looked up. “Yes. They said there’s no point in doing surgery and that they could try doing chemo, but it might just subject him to a lot of discomfort for no good reason. We just found this out a couple weeks ago, and we couldn’t bear to be around family just yet. We didn’t want to ruin everyone’s Christmas, you know?”
“That was very selfless of you,” said Edith. “But to be honest, if one of my children were sick, I would rather know.”
“And we will tell them. We just wanted to wait until after Christmas. We also wanted to have this time together, just the two of us, to talk and think and sort it all out, you know?”
“And then Myrtle whisked your man away.” Edith shook her head. “That woman!”
“Oh, it’s okay. I mean, I know Michael wouldn’t have gone with her if he didn’t want to. Although why he would want to . . . well, I just can’t imagine.”
“I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”
“I’m sorry to burden you with this . . .”
“Please,” said Edith, “don’t be. You know, when w
e learned our kids weren’t coming home, and when we decided to open the inn during Christmas, well, I just believed that the good Lord had a plan. And I’m sure you’re part of that.”
“Well, we really appreciate being here. And it’s so great having a church so nearby. It’s a real blessing.” Lauren stood. “I’m going to go clean up my face before Michael gets back. Please, don’t let him know that I fell apart on you.”
“Of course not.”
“Or that I told you about it.”
“These lips are sealed.”
“Thank you.”
Of course, Edith felt like she could strangle Myrtle for enticing poor Michael to take her for a ride. And who knew when they’d be back. By now Myrtle could’ve convinced the poor man to take her, well, who knew where. And they were driving on snowy roads too. Dear Lord, watch over them, Edith prayed as she put on her shoes and went back downstairs.
At least Charles and Collin had gotten back. And, it appeared, with parts, since they were both outside, along with Peter now, looking into the engine of the bus.
“Peter knows how to fix cars,” said Megan when she noticed Edith looking out the window.
“He sure does,” said Edith. “He’s good at fixing all kinds of things.” She walked over to the table. “And how are our cookies coming?”
“Great,” said Leslie, looking up from an angel-shaped cookie that she was transforming into something exquisitely celestial.
“Oh, my!” said Edith, examining the cookies that were already decorated. “I don’t think we’ve ever had cookies this beautiful before. Are you an artist too?”
“Not exactly,” Leslie admitted. “I mean, I like to dabble, but I’d never be able to support myself. But this,” she held up the cookie, “is excellent therapy.”
Edith smiled. “Well, I’m so glad you think so.” Then she went in the kitchen to see if the cake layers had cooled yet.
“Hello there,” called Charles as he came into the kitchen. “Sure smells good in here.”
“Did you find everything you needed for the engine?” she asked as she mixed some frosting for the cake.
“For the engine. But we had to order the tires, and they won’t be in until next week, after Christmas.”
“Oh . . .”
“Now, don’t worry, Edith. Hal Berry and I plan to do damage control in town this afternoon. We’re going to talk to the mayor, during his Santa break, and try to make him understand that this is just a temporary problem. We’ll also remind him that it wouldn’t look good if the newspapers heard that we forced those poor kids to hit the road with bald tires on packed snow.”
She smiled. “No, that wouldn’t look good.”
“And Hal has connections, you know.” He winked at her. Hal’s wife wrote the food column in their little weekly paper, and occasionally she sold a piece to one of the larger papers too.
“Sounds like you and Hal have it all taken care of.”
“Peter offered to help Collin finish up out there.” Charles was washing his hands in the sink now. “It gets a bit crowded with three heads under the hood. Besides, I was getting awfully cold. I think the temperature is dropping.”
“Oh, I hope that Collin and Amy are warm enough in there.”
“He said their noses get cold, but mostly they’re fine.”
“I’ll take them out an extra comforter just in case.”
“Yes, I figured you would, dear.” He dried his hands. “I’m heading to town now. Anything you need?”
She gave him her short list of mints, nuts, and punch mix for the shower. Then, thinking twice, she took it back and wrote very specifically what kinds of mints, nuts, and punch mix.
“You know me well,” he said as she handed it back.
That was true enough. Edith had learned from experience that if you simply wrote “mints,” he might return with a small box of Junior Mints or mint-flavored gum. He was a smart man when it came to books and sermons, but he was at a complete loss in a grocery store.
It was getting dusky out when Collin and Peter came into the house by way of the kitchen, which was feeling more and more like Grand Central Station. Edith looked up from her task of trying to make the cake look like something fit for a baby shower.
“I think we got it,” said Peter.
“Yeah,” said Collin. “Peter’s a genius.”
Peter nodded. “Thank you, my man. It’s nice that someone has finally noticed.”
“Amy asked me to get a load of laundry for her,” Collin said to Edith, and she directed him to the basement.
Now Peter seemed to be examining Edith’s cake. “What is that?”
She frowned. “It was supposed to be a bassinet.”
Peter laughed. “Looks more like a Volkswagen.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“You have any more of that pink and blue frosting?”
“Sure.” She studied him. “You want to take a stab at it? I know you’re more artistic than I am, but I don’t want to see any soldiers in camouflage.”
“I was thinking you should ask Leslie to help. She has a real knack.”
Edith held her hands up. “Now, why on earth didn’t I think of that? Go see if they’re still out there. It’s been so quiet, I think they might’ve finished.”
Then Edith took her metal spatula and proceeded to scrape off the mess of blue and pink that she had created. Thank goodness she’d made plenty of frosting.
“I hear you need help?” said Leslie, standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
“That’s right.” Edith nodded toward the white-frosted cake.
But Leslie didn’t make a move. Instead she pointed over her head. “The sign.”
Edith laughed. “Goodness, I’d almost forgotten about that. Seems that no one’s been paying attention to it lately anyway. Come on in.”
Leslie came over and looked at the blank cake. “Peter’s helping Megan to finish up the cookies. There’s about a dozen left. So what did you have in mind for this?”
Edith shrugged. “Something babyish. I only mixed blue and pink frostings. I attempted a bassinet, but Peter said it looked like a Volkswagen. I think it looked more like a big blob. Anyway, I removed it. Do whatever you like with it. Judging by your cookie skills, I’m sure you’ll have no problem.”
12
“Seems quiet around here tonight,” said Charles as he took a seat at the kitchen table.
“It’s really settled down.” Edith put the lid back on the boiling rice and turned the burner down to simmer. “It was getting pretty crazy earlier.”
“I see only two places set,” he observed. “Where’s our friend Myrtle tonight?”
Edith just shook her head. “You’re not going to believe it.”
“Try me.”
“Well, Leslie and little Megan had been helping me to decorate cookies, and then Leslie even did the decoration on the cake for the shower tomorrow—and what a beautiful job she did! But anyway, we were just finishing things up, and Myrtle walked in and asked Leslie and Megan what they were doing for dinner. At first I thought maybe she was going to invite them to join us, which would’ve been okay, actually, they’d been so helpful and all.”
“So Myrtle went to dinner with Leslie and Megan?”
“Yes, she pretty much invited herself, and then she even invited Peter.”
“Peter?” Charles looked confused.
“Peter had been helping with the cookies too, and he was still here. So the four of them went to dinner together.”
“Interesting . . .” Charles smiled.
“Oh, yes, and Peter told me to tell you that the engine is running just fine now. Collin called him a genius.”
“And how is our little mother-to-be?”
“I think she wore herself out doing laundry today. Her back’s been hurting, and she’s been resting. I took them out a comforter and some dinner. And they were very sweet and grateful.” She sadly shook her head. “But that bus! Oh, it may look bright and cheery o
n the outside—in fact, I’ve started calling it the Christmas bus—but on the inside it’s downright depressing. And not very warm either, especially with the temperature dropping. They have this little heater that they run off a battery, but it can only be on for short periods of time.”
“I wonder if we could run an extension cord out there,” mused Charles. “Plug it in the outlet on the front porch.”
“That might work, well, as long as no one tripped over it. That Myrtle gave me a good scare today when she said she tripped on the loose step. I thought this could turn into a lawsuit for sure. And wouldn’t Myrtle be the one to do it?”
“Oh, I don’t know . . .”
Edith knew this was his gentle way of defending Myrtle. But that’s just how he was. Charles never liked to say a bad word about anyone. And normally, she didn’t either. She checked on the poached fish and decided it was done.
Then she decided to tell him about Lauren’s emotional breakdown and confession after Myrtle hijacked Michael earlier that day, not so much to shine a negative light on Myrtle as to bring Michael’s illness to Charles’s attention.
“That’s too bad.”
“I have absolutely no idea what Myrtle was up to, but it really upset poor Lauren.”
“But he made it back okay?”
“Yes, he actually seemed in really good spirits, and he and Lauren went off to dinner and the Christmas play tonight. They were having a double date with the Fieldses, if you can imagine. Unfortunately, the Fieldses got into another argument just as they were leaving. Hopefully, they’ll settle down.”
“Might help Lauren and Michael to be thankful for what they have . . .” Charles said, “even if it is going to be cut short.”
She smiled at him as she set the rice on the table. “You know, I’d rather have a few wonderful years with love than a long life with animosity.”
The Christmas Bus Page 10
