Breaking the Mould

by Victoria Hamilton

  “Not bloody likely,” she said, ferociously polishing a silver candlestick. “I’m going to dinner tomorrow evening.”

  “Oh. Okay. Well, I hope you’ll have a look at my diorama,” Jaymie said, and described it.

  With a nod, the woman said, “I’m sure I’ll see it . . . sometime.”

  Jaymie slipped her coat on and walked up to Bill Waterman’s workshop to check on the handyman and her husband. They had finished painting and the cider booth was amazing, maybe even better than the original. “Bravo, gentlemen. Bravo,” she exclaimed, applauding as she examined it in the light from the big open double doors.

  Haskell had not shown up that morning to work on the booth. That wasn’t surprising; there would be no admiring crowd gathered. But Johnny Stanko had; he had swiftly worked to lay a coat of weatherproof varnish over the whole booth. He was about to slip away, but Jaymie stopped the big fellow with one hand and said, “Thanks so much, Johnny. Your help was unexpected, but appreciated.”

  He ducked his head, his face turning red. “It’s nothin’. Cynthia always says to look for opportunities to help. When you find one, she said, you can be an angel to someone.”

  Jaymie smiled, her eyes welling. The fellow had had trouble in his life, and tragedy and sorrow, but he was determined to do better, stay sober, and work hard. Cynthia had been a good influence on him, but Jaymie knew that Johnny was an immeasurably good influence on Cynthia, his sober buddy, too. Everyone needs someone to help, especially in Cynthia’s case, when she had had a break in her sobriety. Helping others was a vital source of pride, and gave one a full heart, and in Cynthia’s case, a powerful motive to stay sober.

  “Come by the booth when it’s up and running during Dickens Days. If you like brownies or cake, I’ll be making both. On the house, for all your help.”

  He ducked his head, said he’d be back whenever they wanted to move the booth, and galumphed away. Jaymie checked in with Jakob, who was positioning a fan to blow on the building to dry the varnish completely, while Bill went to speak with the fire department, to see if they could clean up and remove the debris. A fan wouldn’t normally be used. There was a risk of dust and sawdust sticking to the booth. But time was of the essence, and it was important that it dried completely.

  Jaymie sauntered over to her husband. They shared a long, lingering kiss, and Jakob, leaning back against a table, pulled her closer, holding her as he stared down into her eyes, his own glowing with contentment. “How did I get so lucky?”

  “I could ask the same thing.”

  “Are you looking forward to the shindig tonight at the Nezers’?”

  “It’ll be interesting. I saw Bella earlier, but she’s a frosty one, for sure. I don’t know why I agreed to go, but I’m curious about the inside of the house. We don’t have to stay long.”

  “We’ll play it by ear. If we’re enjoying ourselves, we’ll stay. As long as you want.”

  She reluctantly pulled away and bid him adieu, bought some things at the Emporium, then headed to her SUV. Becca and Kevin were coming back to Queensville that afternoon after a few weeks in Canada, so she had done the shopping for them—bread, milk, coffee, and other staples. She drove over, stocked the fridge in the house, then headed out the back door. Remembering just in time that she needed it, she cut a few holly branches from her shrubs for the cider booth and her diorama, then headed home.

  She took Hoppy for a long walk, cutting some long wild grasses for a dry arrangement in a vase, then spent some time updating her food blog, ruminating on Christmas treats her grandmother made when Jaymie was a kid. Hoppy and Lilibet napped in a basket near the fireplace. She looked up to the clock; it was a quarter to four. She wrapped herself in a thick cable-knit cardigan and headed outside, letting Hoppy out with her to snoop and sniff. He had been used to a measure of freedom in town, in their fenced backyard, but the only time he got outside now was with one of them. Too many coyotes in the country!

  Along the front of the cabin was a bench, some planters brimming with chrysanthemums and two Adirondack chairs. She sat down in one, setting the Melody Heath novel, The Duke’s Delicious Distraction, a Regency historical with a duke as the hero and an earl’s daughter masquerading as a baker’s apprentice as the heroine, on the arm. Melody was an old friend and housemate from university. Jaymie sipped her hot tea and listened to the breeze rustle through the bare branches and pine trees across the road, and sniffed the air: poplar leaves, fresh earth, and the scent of her tea, like honey. It was peaceful. Occasionally a car zoomed past kicking up a cloud of road dust, and sometimes someone waved, but for the most part it was quiet.

  She needed these moments of solitude. Her adult life had been spent living mostly alone except for a brief period when she lived with Joel. It had been a big adjustment having a husband and child. A half hour of alone time, just herself, a mug of tea and a book centered her the way yoga or meditation did others. Maybe it was her form of meditation. She wasn’t a shy person . . . never had been. But when she went to events, or was in a crowd, sometimes she needed to disconnect for a few minutes.

  She read for a while, losing track of time, and then suddenly heard a roar in the distance. She looked up, traveling through the years from 1815 England to present-day Michigan in seconds, as she set the book aside. Hoppy, who was sniffing a clump of weeds along the fence line, heard the heavy noise, too. He wobbled and bounced to Jaymie’s feet and sat, watching, his ears pricked up as he stared down the road expectantly. Funny how quickly he had learned that sound, and what it meant. The big yellow school bus roared down the road and stopped in front of the cabin, the brakes squealing and the door opener screeching. Jocie clambered down, jumping the last step, as Hoppy went mad with excitement, yipping and whirling in wobbly circles. He loved his little girl fiercely, which warmed Jaymie to the core of her being. Jocie turned to wave goodbye to her friends, then ran toward the cabin, throwing her book bag down in the dirt, hugging Jaymie, and running off to dash about with Hoppy for a few minutes.

  Jaymie’s cell phone buzzed and she picked it up, laughing as she answered. It was Becca, back in the Queensville house, and they went through the usual check-in after the couple had been in Canada for a couple of weeks. Jaymie asked about their grandmother, who was doing well, and business, which was also doing well. Becca thanked Jaymie for filling the fridge, and asked about Jocie. Jaymie described the scene going on in front of her.

  “So, are you two free tonight?” Becca asked.

  “Well, actually, it’s one of those rare occasions when we have plans,” Jaymie said, telling her sister all about what had been going on, including the cider booth arson.

  “Holy mackerel, excitement in our little village!”

  “I know. Big-time excitement.” She went on to relate the party invitation, that Valetta and Heidi were attending as well, and . . . “Valetta is bringing Brock. Ugh!”

  “He’s her brother, little sis. You know he’s gotten better the last year or so.”

  “I suppose,” Jaymie said, rolling her eyes.

  “I heard that! I heard you rolling your eyes.”

  Jaymie laughed. “So . . . we’re busy tonight. In fact, as soon as Jakob gets home we have to take Jocie over to her Oma and Opa’s to stay. I hope they don’t mind. We’ve been doing that a lot lately, and I know they have an evening alone tonight. Sonya and Helmut and their brood are off to visit her relatives this weekend since they couldn’t get there at Thanksgiving.”

  “How about Kevin and I come over and babysit on premises?”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. I was going to suggest we come over tonight anyway, you know, bring snacks and a kid-friendly movie. So instead we’ll have the kidlet all to ourselves!”

  Jaymie swiftly agreed and hung up, then told Jocie the change in plans. She called her mother-in-law, had a bit of a chat, got a recipe, and told her the change in plans too. Renate was good with that, and hung up. “Time to go in, Jocie. Dinner and bath, then Aunt Becca and
Uncle Kevin are going to be here.”

  • • •

  Wolf whistle.

  Jaymie whirled to see Jakob staring at her as she did last-minute primps in the mirror, before they were off to the party in Queensville.

  “You look . . . wow,” he said softly, appreciatively.

  She smiled and felt her cheeks burn as she smoothed the dress down over her hips. She curtseyed. “Why, thank you, sir. Heidi picked it out.” She turned back to the mirror and adjusted her updo, a simple twist fixed in place using the holly-bejeweled comb Becca had brought back from a vintage shop in Scotland on their delayed honeymoon.

  “Remind me to thank Heidi,” he said, coming up behind her and encircling her in his arms, squeezing. His kissed her ear, his beard tickling her neck. “Not that you don’t always look gorgeous, but you must admit, this does play to your attributes.” He stared at her in the mirror and winked.

  Jaymie always thought of warm colors like rust, crimson and gold for autumn, but on their last shopping trip Heidi had insisted that for her coloring she should consider blues and greens even in fall, so together they had chosen a long soft dress in swirling shades of blue and teal. With delicate filigree silver jewelry she thought it looked pretty good. When she bought it she hadn’t been sure what she’d wear it for, but this was the perfect occasion.

  “You look very handsome yourself,” Jaymie murmured, turning in his arms, hands on his shoulders.

  Jakob wore a navy sport jacket over a taupe sweater and oxford shirt, with taupe chinos and boots. His dark hair glistened, as did his beard, and he smelled delicious. She didn’t particularly want to leave right that moment, but they had to.

  Becca and Kevin had arrived an hour ago, so they were well-entrenched. Jaymie and Jakob descended to find Becca on the floor with Jocie pasting pictures into a scrapbook, as Hoppy sat watching and waggling his butt, hoping for attention. Kevin sat on the sofa with Lilibet stretched out on his lap and flicked through the TV stations.

  “Woo-hoo, you two look good!” Becca said, her glasses reflecting the light from the TV screen.

  Jaymie pulled on a long-sleeved black faux fur shrug while Jakob got his coat. Becca clambered to her feet and helped Jaymie pin a glittering diamante snowflake brooch on the shrug’s shoulder, making it glitter festively in the firelight. Jocie was entranced and wanted a picture with her mom right that minute. Jaymie obliged, of course, and then it became a picture-taking session with Jaymie and Jakob both, embracing by the hearth.

  It took another fifteen minutes before they got out of the house, and another twenty to get into Queensville, but finally they pulled up by the Nezer home, which was ablaze with light in every window. Jaymie found a parking space wedged between another SUV and a Lincoln. “I’m nervous,” she admitted. She unlocked her seat belt, threw her keys in her evening bag and took in a deep breath. “We don’t normally go to fancy functions. What if I’m not dressed right? What if I’m mmph—”

  Her protestations were stopped by a big kiss. Jakob, leaning across the center console, held her face in one hand. “You look gorgeous. I am going to be the envy of every man there, and you could never be inappropriate.”

  “You messed up my lipstick,” she said breathlessly, and turned on the vanity light to fix it. She glanced at him. “And thank you. Every woman there is going to envy me.”

  Hand in hand they followed a sidewalk from the parking lane by the house and strolled up toward the front door. Jaymie paused. Bella had done wonders to the exterior in the couple of months she had had access to the house. It had been painted a soft dove gray, with details and trim picked out in a creamy white. It was an unusual design, though in the Queen Anne style. A central square tower rose above the hipped roof, which was tiled in gray slate accented by lines of darker gray.

  Some Queen Anne homes had a wide wraparound porch, but the Nezer home did not, just a square porch covered by a roof supported by double pillars. The big double doors had crimson glass sidelights, as well as a transom-style window over the door with the street number in silver gothic scroll. Lace curtains filtered the interior light through the windows in the lovely wood doors.

  They approached the steps, but Jaymie paused and released Jakob’s hand when she heard a rustling in the snowball bushes to the left of the porch. She bent over and peered into them. “Hello? Who’s there?” she said. The rustling continued for a moment, then stopped.

  “Probably a raccoon,” Jakob offered.

  “I suppose.”

  She was about to continue in, but the rustling began again and she glanced over once more, seeing a flash of white. “Wait!” She stared and saw the face of a woman, with white hair, in a dark cloak. Jaymie opened her mouth to say something but the woman smiled, mischievously, and put one finger to her mouth in a hushing gesture.

  “What is it?” Jakob asked.

  The woman held out a piece of paper to Jaymie. She reflexively reached out and took it.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Let’s go in,” Jaymie said as the woman rustled away. Jakob frowned and looked into her eyes, his own dark and shadowed in the dim porch light, but she shook her head, troubled and unsure. “It’s nothing. Let’s go!”

  What had the woman handed her? It would take longer to explain than it took for it to happen. She’d tell him later. She slipped the paper into her clutch as they entered.

  A young woman in a black skirt and black vest over a crisp white shirt took their jackets; a rudimentary cloak room had been set up in one corner of the den or office, racks of coats visible beyond the open pocket doors. She pointed them to the right, to a big parlor accessed by another set of pocket doors. Through the doorway they could see an enormous Christmas tree set up in the far corner. It was decorated with gold and silver faux mercury lights and tinsel, with a glittering star on top. There was a gorgeous wood fireplace along the far wall, which was painted a deep wine color, and atop the mantel was a snowy scene of a white ceramic village, with mercury glass globes interspersed.

  Jaymie took Jakob’s offered arm and they strolled through, nodding to those they knew and smiling at those they didn’t. Quite a few people had already arrived. Haskell and Petty were there with a group of folks, laughing and chatting, drinks in hand. Haskell, who must have set aside his quarrel with Evan Nezer, was handsome as always in a dark gray suit, and Petty was lovely and sparkling in a floral damask skirt and silk blouse, in tones of rose and gold.

  Haskell summoned them with a wave of his hand. “Pastor Inkerman, this is Jaymie and Jakob Müller,” he said as they joined the small group, and Petty gave her a brief hug and a smile. “Our little Jaymie is quite the author too, you know, as well as being a docent at our historic home; she writes for our local paper, a column called ‘Vintage Eats.’”

  Jaymie held her breath, sure that the pastor would sneer at a food columnist being called an author.

  Instead he smiled and nodded. “I have read your column! Quite entertaining. Not that I’m a cook at all. But I have heard of you, young lady. You’ve solved a few crimes around town.” He gave a mock look of alarm, one hand on his chest. “Should I be wary of you?”

  “Not unless you’ve killed someone lately.”

  He gave a sharp bark of laughter but looked discomposed.

  “Jaymie, behave yourself, now!” Haskell said. “Pastor Vaughan Inkerman has written and published a wonderful book entitled Living Your Best Life Through Scripture.”

  The man was slight and pale, with a lovely wave of dirty blonde hair across his forehead. He shook Jakob’s outstretched hand, then bowed over hers. “Haskell is too kind. Critics were rather savage, unfortunately.” He colored slightly, a peachy pink mantling over his cheeks. “One, a particularly vicious reviewer nicknamed Book Bookman, called it a Panglossian wonder.”

  Jaymie traded puzzled looks with Jakob.

  “Pangloss was a character in Candide,” the pastor explained. “He was a foolish optimist.”

  She had read Candide
in university, but the reference had passed her by. It had been more than a few years since she had read the work and it clearly had not made a lasting impression. “I’d rather be a foolish optimist than a clever cynic,” Jaymie said with a slight smile.

  Inkerman’s eyes welled. “Thank you, young lady. You are both lovely and wise beyond your years.”

  Jaymie spotted Valetta and Heidi lingering in the next room by an enormous marble-topped mirrored Eastlake sideboard that held platters of treats and an exquisite china tea set. She tugged Jakob away with a parting smile and nod. “He seems an emotional sort,” she murmured to her husband.

  “Maybe all writers are?” he said.

  “Not in my experience! My friend Melody—you know, the romance author—is as cynical and hard-nosed as they come. She says she can turn on the romantic spout and turn it off just as easily.”

  “She married?”

  Jaymie waggled her hand, thinking of Melody’s hurried and now regretted wedding of a couple of years before. “Kinda-sorta.”

  “Lucky guy.”

  She chuckled. “He’s no prize, let me tell you.” They strolled over to her friends and were enveloped in hugs. Heidi was gorgeous as always, in a slim-fitting long-sleeved black sheath dress topped by a silver shrug. Valetta, on the other hand, eschewed the fashionable lack of color embraced by others. She had chosen a long red velvet skirt and with it wore a green satin blouse, topped by a Christmas cardigan bedazzled with jacquard squares depicting holiday scenes picked out in sequins and tinsel thread.

  “You’re . . . breathtaking,” Jaymie said, examining Val’s outfit.

  “Is it too much?” Val asked, eyes wide behind the glinting lenses of her glasses. It was hard to discern, but she may have been kidding.

  “Not at all,” Jaymie said warmly. “You’re gloriously festive.” She fished in her bag and took out her little digital camera. “You two, stand together,” she told Val and Heidi. She snapped a shot, and then took photos of the treat trays and sideboard. Val insisted that she take one of Jaymie and Jakob by the fireplace and the Christmas tree. They threaded through the convivial, chattering crowd and took photos of each other, giggling and chatting.