Tightening the Threads
Page 24
Clem was the only one of us who’d never met Patrick’s mother, Skye West, a stage and screen actress who’d bought Aurora as a retreat, far from the pressures of Hollywood. We’d all made it an unwritten rule that she should have the privacy she valued.
Patrick looked at Clem. I suspected he’d just realized my old friend was also a member of the media. By issuing a general invitation, he’d included her. “Her co-star, Paul Carmichael, is coming, and an actress I don’t know, Blaze Buchanan. And Thomas and Marie O’Day, the screenwriters, will be here reworking the end of the script with Marv Mason, who’s directing.”
“Wow!” Clem breathed. “I’m a real Paul Carmichael fan. He’s gorgeous. And Marv Mason has won two Oscars!”
“Sounds like a working holiday,” Ruth Hopkins pointed out.
“Exactly. Mom said there’ve been problems on the set they hope to work out while they’re here. She sounded distracted. Plus, she wants me to decorate the house in what she termed ‘Maine Christmas fashion, ’ so all is ‘as she dreamed’ when she arrives.” Patrick smiled, but looked tense. “Her plane gets in December twentieth.”
“She wants you to decorate the whole house in two days?” I gasped. Skye’s house was enormous.
Reverend Tom shook his head. “Sounds as though she’s been watching old Christmas movies and thinking about Currier and Ives prints. This is Haven Harbor. Not a movie set.”
“Exactly,” Patrick said glumly. “She even rattled off a list of what she wants—garlands everywhere, and an enormous tree, of course. And that’s just the beginning. She wants a horse-drawn sleigh and carolers. And an elegant lobster dinner for Christmas Eve. Which you’re all invited to.”
Silence.
Ob was the first to speak. “I’ll help you with the tree, Patrick. What are neighbors for? But Anna and I’ve planned a quiet Christmas this year, just the two of us. I’m afraid we’ll have to pass on the invite to your fancy party.”
“Gus and I will be heading to Blue Hill for Christmas with the grandkids,” said Katie. “We won’t be in town Christmas Eve.”
“I’d be happy to come,” Sarah said quickly. “And you’ll be here then, right, Dave?”
“I’d thought of spending the holidays in Boston, But sure. I can come Christmas Eve.” Dave looked cornered.
“I’ll come,” said Ruth, quietly.
“I’ll be there for sure,” Clem put in.
“And I’ll help you decorate,” I put in. Like Ob and Anna, I’d looked forward to a quiet Christmas, mine with Gram and Tom. And Patrick, of course. But now Patrick had other obligations.
“I’d really appreciate that,” he said, squeezing my hand. “I know most of Mom’s friends in the movie business. I’m afraid there may be more drama at Aurora than Haven Harbor is used to.”
“Just as long as any dramas stay there,” said Reverend Tom quietly. “Here in town we’re pretty set in our ways of celebrating the holidays. After all, Christmas is a religious holiday and a time for families to celebrate together. Not a spectacle.”
“I understand,” Patrick nodded. “I do.”
His hand tightened on mine.
He might understand. But did his mom and her Hollywood friends? My dream of a quiet, perfect Maine Christmas was fading fast.