Sugarplums and Scandal Page 11

“Oh, yeah?” Gertrude retorted. “What time does the fairy show up with her magic wand?”

  “Right before she shows up to help me,” Judith replied, walking ahead of Gertrude to open the back door.

  The rain had stopped and the air had turned much colder. Looking into the darkening sky, Judith noticed that the clouds were slowly moving and a crescent moon was rising in the east. There might be frost by morning and perhaps the sky would clear later in the evening. That, Judith thought, would be a perfect December night.

  As usual, the heat in the toolshed was turned up to almost eighty degrees. Gertrude needed the extra warmth to help her circulation. Judith usually didn’t mind the near-tropical temperature, but she’d been working even harder than usual and had broken into a sweat.

  “Anything you need?” she asked hurriedly.

  “Where do I start?” Gertrude responded in an exasperated voice.

  “I’ll come to get you just before five,” Judith said. She stopped, unable to see the muffler that had been left on the easy chair. It was nowhere in sight. “Who did that plaid muffler belong to?”

  Her mother scowled at her. “What plaid muffler?”

  “The one I saw on the chair when I came to get you earlier.”

  Gertrude looked at the chair. “You’re drunk. You drank the rest of my toddy, remember?”

  “Yes, but I’m quite sober. There wasn’t much left in your mug.”

  “Then beat it and let me make my mug pretty for the company. Shoo!”

  Judith couldn’t take time to argue, but she did glance into the small bedroom, the tiny bathroom, and the kitchenette. No muffler. Maybe whoever left it had come back. During the day, the toolshed door was always unlocked, as were the doors to the main house. It was a low-crime area—except, of course, for the homicide cases Judith herself seemed to attract.

  By ten to five, she was ready. No one had yet arrived, not even Mike and his family. Traffic was probably exceptionally heavy on the pass and all the way through the dense suburbs that led into the city. Checking the full-length mirror in the third-floor master bedroom, Judith gave a semi-enthusiastic nod of approval: she wore a long black taffeta skirt, red scoop-necked sweater, and a gold pendant that had been a gift from a B&B guest who did business in Dubai.

  “Hey,” Joe said, coming out of the bathroom, “does my wife know you’re here? I told you never to make house calls.”

  “The motels are full because of the holiday,” Judith deadpanned. “We’ll have to settle for this crummy B&B.”

  “Mmm,” Joe murmured as he kissed Judith’s throat. “You smell good, too.”

  Judith smiled. “You look quite dapper yourself.” Indeed, Joe had always had good taste in clothes. Balding he might be and a paunch had been added, but the round face with its magical green eyes still drew Judith like a magnet. Forty years had passed since they first met. They had both changed inside and out, but the emotions were still there, undimmed by time and distance and even by blessed familiarity.

  “We’d better go downstairs,” she said as Joe continued to nuzzle.

  “Uh-huh.” He didn’t stop.

  “Joe!” Judith giggled and pulled away. “Come on! It’s Christmas Eve.”

  Joe sighed. “Yes, it is. Damn.”

  Aunt Ellen and Uncle Win arrived just as Judith and Joe descended the stairs to the main floor. Hugs and kisses ensued.

  “I’ll take over the kitchen,” Aunt Ellen announced in her no-nonsense manner, “and if Vance tries to tell me what to do, I’ll have to hurt her.”

  “Go for it,” Judith said, deferring to her incredibly efficient aunt who was already ordering Win to go get Gertrude.

  Two minutes later, Auntie Vance and Uncle Vince entered the house. “Where’s that rotten sister of mine?” Vance snarled. “I saw that crappy old car of theirs with the Nebraska license plates out front. Vinster, wake up! We’re here. You can sleep while you’re driving home.”

  Uncle Vince, who was leaning against the wall, gave a start. “What? Sure, Little Girl, I’ll do it. But it’s looking kind of rough out there.” It was Vince’s standard answer when Vance asked him to take the boat out to check the crab pots—no matter how calm the waters might be. He gave Judith and Joe a half-smile as his wife tromped out into the kitchen.

  Judith smiled back at Uncle Vince. “If you want a nap, you can go into the front parlor. We’ll let you know when the food is ready.”

  “Okay.” Vince leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.

  Joe volunteered to haul the presents from the aunts and uncles into the living room. Auntie Vance had wrapped hers in traditional Christmas paper; Aunt Ellen had used the Beatrice Daily Sun.

  Judith started toward the kitchen, but the noise had suddenly become deafening. Vance and Ellen were arguing, as usual, and Gertrude was telling them both to shut up or she’d make the cat puke on their shoes. Uncle Win was fixing himself a drink. Two drinks, in fact.

  “For Vince,” he said, pointing to the second glass as Judith sidled into the kitchen. “I think I’ll join him. Wherever he may be sleeping.”

  “Try the hall,” Judith suggested.

  Uncle Corky and his clan had arrived. On their heels came Sue and Ken’s two sons, their wives, and five children. The crowd of newcomers chattered and squawked in a whirl of motion.

  “Hey!” Corky shouted to Vince. “Wake up, man! Old Blood and Guts has got us heading for Sicily! We’re going to take Messina and Palermo and keep going all the way to freaking Berlin!”

  Uncle Vince gave another start, blinked his eyes, and saluted. “Yessir! On the double, sir! Right here. General Patton!”

  Judith helped divest the younger clan members of coats and hats. Uncle Al and his girlfriend, the elegant Tess, entered just as the latest arrivals were being ushered into the dining room and the parlor and anywhere else that kept them out of the living room.

  Tess, who was the heiress to a large timber company, handed a small box wrapped in gold foil to Judith. “My hostess gift,” she said in her genteel voice. “I thought it was something you could use. Tuck it away until later.”

  “Thanks,” Judith said, in awe as always at Tess’s refined beauty even in advanced age. As far as Judith was concerned, Uncle Al’s greatest luck had been in finding Tess.

  Tess, however, was watching the rambunctious children racing through the entry hall and up and down the main staircase. “Goodness,” she murmured. “Maybe you should open it now. For safekeeping.”

  Judith backed up into the corner between the door to the downstairs parlor and the credenza that sat by the stairs. Tess held her ground, despite the efforts of Andy and Marie to use the garland on the stairway to lasso her.

  “Stop that!” Judith called to the children, who were her great-nieces or something like that. Because she saw most of the children only once a year, she wasn’t always sure who belonged to whom. She wasn’t even sure they were Andy and Marie.

  Trying to hurry, Judith dropped the gold organza ruffle bow. Gracefully, Tess bent down to pick it up.

  Judith was embarrassed. “Thanks. It’s hard for me to…”

  “I know. Your poor hip,” Tess finished for her. “You must be worn out with all these preparations.”

  “Well…” Judith shrugged and lifted the small box’s lid. Inside was an envelope with her name on it. And inside the envelope were three crisp one hundred dollar bills.

  “So expensive,” Tess said softly, “to put on such a holiday extravaganza. Since I didn’t bring any food, I thought that might help defray the cost.”

  Judith hugged Tess. “Thank you so much!” Over Tess’s shoulder, she saw Renie, Bill, and the six other Joneses come through the door. All of them were carrying cartons, shopping bags, and boxes filled high with presents. Aunt Deb, in her own motorized wheelchair, brought up the rear. “Don’t worry about me,” she said to no one in particular. “I’m coming as fast as I can.”

  “Hi, everybody!” Renie shouted, eliciting a minimal respo
nse from anybody under ten. Bill nodded vaguely, set down his carton, and removed his tan all-weather jacket with its two-dozen pockets and fourteen secret compartments. Or so Renie claimed.

  “Anne and Cathy and Heather will put the presents in the living room,” Renie informed Judith. “Got a flashlight?”

  “Tell them it’s on the buffet,” Judith said, slipping the hundred dollar bills into the pocket of her skirt. “I’ve got a votive candle burning there so they can see it.”

  Tess had moved on, greeting Aunt Deb and solicitously inquiring about her health. Uncle Al was in the doorway of the dining room making quarters disappear to the wonderment of a couple of kids who weren’t Andy and Marie. Or maybe they were, Judith thought, her head a-spin.

  “Where’s the Green Goddess salad dressing?” Joe asked as he came out from the kitchen.

  “Do you have white-wine glasses?” Aunt Toadie inquired. “I found the Burgundy ones, hut I can’t…”

  “Use coffee cups,” Aunt Ellen interrupted. “What difference does it make? Back in Beatrice, we drink wine out of a box.”

  “Move it, lard ass,” Auntie Vance said to Joe, despite the fact that her backside was much wider than his. “What are those kids doing on the stairs? Hey, Monsters—get the hell down here! Go in the basement and inhale some gas fumes from the furnace!”

  Renie grabbed Judith’s hand and bodily pulled her into the first floor bathroom.

  “Holy Mother,” Renie gasped, “I can’t hear myself think! How do you stand it?”

  Judith shuddered. “I’m postponing my nervous breakdown until the day after Christmas.”

  “I’d forgotten how loud this family can be,” Renie said, leaning against the sink.

  “But under it all, they get along,” Judith pointed out.

  “Yes, in their own weird way. And,” she added wistfully, “they’re all so big. Except me.”

  “Runt,” Judith said with a smile. “Isn’t that what Uncle Al called you as a kid?”

  Renie nodded. “A throwback. But that’s why we’re here. I assume that being small, I’m the one who crawls in through the French doors to turn on the Christmas lights after Bill does his Santa bit. Where’s the flashlight, then? Or do I feel my way around the floor to find the switch?”

  “I’ll get you another flashlight,” Judith said. “Heaven only knows where your daughter and your daughters-in-law will put the one I had on the buffet. Besides, Mike and his gang still aren’t here, and neither are Sue and Ken.”

  “That’s right.” Renie peered at her watch. “It’s five-thirty. We’ve got to get this show on the road.”

  “Ha.” Judith grimaced. “That’s up to Aunt Ellen. We’re probably ready to eat. The dining room table is loaded with food.”

  “Good,” Renie said, moving to the door. “Anything new on the Bart incident?”

  “No,” Judith said with a frown, “except that when I took Mother back to the toolshed, that muffler was gone.”

  “Really?” Renie looked perturbed. “By the way, who else was in the living room when Anne put the last of our presents around the tree?”

  Judith frowned. “Uncle Al?”

  “Anne said he’d come and gone. But she heard a noise, not right by the tree,” Renie explained, “but closer to the French doors.”

  “Maybe it was outside,” Judith suggested, “though none of the family would come in that way. It could’ve been Sweetums.”

  Renie looked doubtful. “Anne didn’t make it sound like a cat.”

  “We can’t worry about that now,” Judith said. “What do you suppose is holding up Mike and Kristin?”

  “Traffic,” Renie said, opening the bathroom door. “What else? It was even slow on top of Heraldsgate Hill when we came over here just now. You can imagine what the freeway is like.”

  Judith could. Bumper to bumper, and all sorts of idiots with fender-benders and flat tires and running out of gas.

  The cousins emerged from the small bathroom. Aunt Ellen pounced. “What are you girls doing in there? Smoking?”

  “No,” Renie replied, “but you are.” She pointed to her aunt’s cigarette. “I remember when all the aunts used to go upstairs to smoke so Grandma Grover wouldn’t know.”

  Aunt Ellen merely puffed at her cigarette, laughed, and rushed away, no doubt to organize the line that was forming at the dining table.

  “Talk about General Patton,” Judith said to Renie, “Aunt Ellen could have organized the military in both Asia and Europe during World War Two.”

  “I thought she did,” Renie responded. “Her gig with the Red Cross in Calcutta was just a ruse, right?”

  “Probably,” Judith said vaguely. She watched the guests move smartly through the supper line. The Grover clan rarely hesitated making decisions about food. They wanted all of it.

  “At least,” Renie said as she stepped behind Uncle Win, “our mothers haven’t started their dueling wheelchair act.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Judith said, recalling an occasion when the two old girls had gone at it and almost wrecked a hotel room.

  Renie beckoned to her cousin. “Come on. Aren’t you eating?”

  “Not until Mike and his family get here,” Judith said. “I’m worried.”

  Somehow, over the din of voices and plates and serving spoons, she heard the phone ring. The quietest place to answer it was in the living room. Hurrying as fast as her artificial hip could take her, she ducked behind the draperies and felt her way to the cherrywood table.

  “Hello?” she said into the receiver.

  “Mom?” Mike said. “It’s me. We’ve got a problem.”

  Judith felt her heart start to race. “What kind? Where are you? What’s wrong?”

  “We stopped to get the boys some burgers and fries,” Mike replied. “It took longer than we thought and when we came out of the cafe, our SUV was gone.”

  Judith was both relieved and upset at the same time. “You mean stolen?”

  “No. Towed. I guess I parked in a No Parking zone. Can somebody come and get us?”

  “Where are you?”

  “In North Boone,” Mike said. “At the Hat Trick Cafe.”

  Calculating quickly, Judith realized that her son and his family were over thirty miles away. “I don’t know…” She hesitated. Who in this group would want to make a sixty-odd mile round-trip drive on Christmas Eve? A sudden thought occurred to her. “Where did they tow it?”

  “Not far,” Mike said. “There’s a towing yard about a mile from here. Trouble is, we have to pay three hundred bucks to get it out, and I don’t get paid until the day after New Year’s. We’re a little short this month, what with Christmas and all.”

  Judith put her hand on the pocket of her skirt. Easy come, easy go, she thought. What else is new? “I’ll pay for it,” she said. “Can somebody at the cafe give you a ride to the towing site?”

  “I’ll see,” Mike said, sounding uncertain. “They’re about to close.”

  “Be here as soon as you can,” Judith said, suddenly distracted by a creaking noise at the far end of the room. Hanging up, she ventured past the bay window and the bookcases. Unable to see where she was going in the dark, she stubbed her toe on a large present and would’ve fallen if she hadn’t braced herself on the piano bench.

  The sound grew fainter. Judith didn’t dare turn on a light for fear that some of the children would see it and think Santa had already arrived. Nor did she risk venturing any closer to the French doors where she thought the noise had emanated. A serious fall—and a possible trip to the emergency room—would ruin everybody’s Christmas Eve.

  She waited for at least a full minute, but there was no sound outside, only the buzz of excitement and clatter of dishes inside the house. As Judith came out of the living room, Joe was heading for the front parlor with a plate full of food. She dismissed the odd noise and swiftly relayed Mike’s message.

  “Dumb stunt,” Joe muttered. “Should I drive up there?”

 
“No,” Judith said. “At least not until we find out if they’re truly stranded. If Mike can get the SUV out of hock, they should be here a little after six. Traffic always slows down on Christmas Eve about this time of the day.”

  “I’d better tell Bill,” Joe said. “He’ll want to know that his Santa act isn’t going off until six-thirty.”

  Even though the line at the buffet table was only three deep, Judith had lost her appetite.

  “Where’s Ma and Pa?” Jeffrey Dalton asked her as he came away from the table.

  Jeffrey was the elder son of Sue and Ken. “They told me they’d be late,” Judith replied, deciding not to go into details.

  “Oh—yeah. That bomb thing.” Jeffrey shrugged and headed for the kitchen. Jeffrey and his brother, Murray, obviously were accustomed to the hazards of their parents’ business.

  Aunt Ellen and a toddler were the only ones still dishing up. “Is our daughter in another jam?” Ellen inquired.

  “Nothing new,” Judith hedged, wondering who had put a Ping-Pong ball in the potato salad.

  “Oh.” Aunt Ellen also seemed undisturbed. “The bomb scare happened while we were having breakfast at their restaurant this morning. I insisted that Sue and Ken let us pay for our meal, but she made a fuss. Those two don’t have very sound business heads. If they’d let me tell them how to…”

  The phone was ringing again. Judith excused herself and went into the noisy kitchen. About a dozen family members were sitting at the table, on the counters, and even the floor, happily stuffing their faces. Judith could hear the phone but couldn’t see it anywhere. The ring seemed to be emanating from Cousin Marty, who had put his well-padded rear end on top of the dishwasher.

  “Marty?” Judith said with a feeble smile.

  “Huh?” Marty shoved a cracker covered in salmon pate into his mouth.

  “You’re sitting on the phone.”

  “Ah!” Marty jumped up and looked around. “You’re right,” he said with his mouth full. “I just thought my hemorrhoids were acting up again. Never had ‘em ring like that before, though.”

  Judith grabbed the phone and went into the hallway where it was quieter. Mike’s cell phone number showed up on the caller ID. “Mike?”