She looked uncertain, but Jaymie didn’t leave any room for refusal. She found the butler pantry off the kitchen and retrieved a sparkling silver tea set shelved with other silver. She brought it to the center prep table and went to the fridge, taking out a carton of milk and a fresh lemon. She glanced around, then slid a cutting board out of its hiding place, alongside the counter. “Go ahead, Erla,” she said, glancing up at the housekeeper. “I’m used to taking care of company and working events. You must be up to your ears, and no one should have to deal with a grieving widow and company all alone.”
The woman’s thick brows had climbed her forehead when Jaymie said “grieving widow,” but she nodded. “I won’t say no to the extra hands.”
Jaymie texted Jakob that she would be home in a while, that she had stopped to help a friend first. Kind of true; Erla could be a friend at some point. For the next hour Jaymie, at Erla’s direction, made tea and coffee, filled urns, filled platters of goodies taken out of the freezer and thawed, and cut cheese and made a ham and pickle spread from one of Erla’s own recipes. She got up on a step stool and found serving platters and dishes, some dusty from disuse—maybe they had been there for years in the old house—some clean and stowed away recently. There were gaps, like up in the cupboard where a mess of cookie sheets and cake pans lived, and Jaymie got the notion that even Erla had not had time to arrange the kitchen properly, with the move to the historic house happening so recently and everything being so rushed.
It did look like Erla had been trying to make the place her home and work all in one. There were shelves in one corner holding assorted crockery, like a heavy pickle crock on the bottom, a brown bean crock and a brown earthenware bowl with fancy fluted edges on the shelves above it. There was a needlepoint hung on the wall above it that said East, West, Home’s Best. Jaymie smiled; she couldn’t have said it better herself.
As the housekeeper served and cleared in the parlor, Jaymie started dishes. Erla returned, using her butt to open the swinging door as she carried a tray full of dirty dishes and platters strewn with parsley and crumbs.
“You don’t have to do that, Jaymie!” she protested. They had, through the hour, become first-name friends and colleagues. “You’ve already done too much!”
“Nonsense, Erla. I find the aftermath soothing . . . you know, getting my hands in soapy water and creating order out of chaos.”
The housekeeper smiled, the lines bracketing her eyes and mouth deepening. “You said it.” She grabbed a tea towel and started to dry, putting dishes away as she did so.
“What were they talking about in there?” Jaymie asked, sliding a glance sideways at the woman.
“I wasn’t listening.”
“You’re a better woman than I!” Jaymie laughed. “I’m so snoopy I can’t help but listen in on people’s conversations.”
“I’m a housekeeper; I try to remember my place and mind my own business.”
“Do you live here?”
“I have my own apartment upstairs.”
“Did you have that at the last place? I know they moved from a ranch house.”
“They had the lower level converted to an apartment. That’s where I raised my son, Finn. I don’t spend any more time than I have to with them. These people are boring. I tune them out and think of my next quilting project.”
“Quilting? I would love to see your work. Do you ever sell your pieces?”
“Sometimes. Why?”
“I’m looking for Christmas gifts for my mother-in-law and my best friend. A quilt would be fabulous. You must have to ask a lot, though, right? Val and I have a limit on how much we spend.”
“The hand-sewn ones I sell for quite a bit, but I do some custom quilts using fat quarters and the sewing machine.”
“Fat what?” Jaymie asked.
“Fat quarters . . . that’s a piece of quilting fabric. It’s like . . . a measurement. I buy precut fat quarters and piece quilts together quickly. It only takes me a week of spare time to make one of those, so I can sell them pretty cheap.”
“Maybe I can see them sometime.”
As she finished the last of the dishes and Erla started prepping for the family’s dinner, Jaymie put on the kettle again and made a pot of tea just for them. “It can’t have been easy working for Evan Nezer, though, truly.” She eyed the older woman. “Judging from his behavior at the party he seemed like a . . . difficult person.”
“He had his faults, but it’s Mrs. Nezer who’s the difficult one. Thinks she’s queen.”
“Did you work in the household when his first wife was with him, Ben’s mother?”
Her gaze softened. “I did. Sarah and me . . . we’re friends. I’ve worked for the family for years, and I respect how she fought for her health. It wasn’t easy.”
Interesting that she considered Sarah Nezer a friend and seemed to dislike Bella. “So you’ve known Ben for a while, too.”
She smiled. “Ben and Finn kind of grew up together; they’re a few months apart.”
“That’s cool. Which is older?”
“My Finn . . . he was such a big baby, eight and a half pounds! Look . . . I got a picture of him.” She fished in her purse and brought out a laminated photo. It was of a blonde youngster, skinny and gap-toothed, standing on the edge of the water. She traced his white-blonde hair with one finger.
“He was a beautiful boy,” Jaymie said softly.
“Sarah and I took the two boys to Disney World, and even camping once! Mr. Nezer used to go on these seminar tours in England and Canada, and we’d have the best time while he was away.”
“You must be proud of Finn. It must be more difficult now, though, given how Mr. Nezer treated your son.”
Her lips firmed and she squinted at Jaymie. “We were working it out. Finn gets anxious and impatient.”
“Understandable! I work for the paper and read the news stories, so I’ve read all there is that’s out there anyway, but there is always more, stuff that doesn’t make it into the paper. It can’t have been easy for your son to be accused of plagiarism like that, and by his thesis advisor, and the boss of his mom!”
“We were working it out,” Erla repeated.
“Finn caused quite the commotion last night, though. It took a lot of talking for you to get him to leave. Did he come back? It sounded like he wanted to talk to the professor while the president was still there.”
The woman turned toward Jaymie. “I think I can handle it all now,” she said stiffly, hand gripping the counter, her knuckles white. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your day.”
The dismissal was unmistakable and undeniable. “I’ll get going, then.” She pulled off her apron and hung it back up in place. “I visited with Mrs. Nezer—Sarah—this morning, you know. I was afraid, after she almost collapsed out front, that she’d be ill, but she seems fine. I’m happy to hear that she has you as a friend. And that Finn and Ben are such good pals. Maybe now, with the professor gone, Finn can get back into the college and finish his master’s.”
Erla shook her head. “I don’t think it works like that. I’m afraid Mr. Nezer dying was the worst thing that could have happened for my son, and his chances. I could have handled Mr. Nezer. I could have made him see sense. He had an ego, that’s all, and needed to be handled the right way. Who is going to speak for Finn now?” She turned away.
Jaymie pulled her coat on and left, walking back to her SUV. Who is going to speak for Finn now? Erla asked. Who indeed?
• • •
Jakob was right: there was nothing like physical labor to cleanse the mind.
A Christmas tree farmer’s year ramped up in November. Jakob had already cut a lot of trees for precut lots, but that would continue as needed. By now he was starting to get a good idea of demand. But a couple of other tree lots had had suppliers let them down, so Jakob was trying to fill their needs as well as his regulars’. That had forced quite a bit of extra cutting.
Some farmers used separate fields for their
cut tree operations and their cut-it-yourself trees, and Jakob was in the process of moving to that model, now that they had acquired another fifty acres of land. But this year, and for a few more years, the operations would be combined until saplings had been planted in the spring and given a few years to grow.
From an employment agency in Wolverhampton he had found a college student, Shannon Parker, looking to make a few bucks. Helmut had pitched in, as had Dieter, the eldest Müller brother. Dieter was a quiet soul, graying and bearded, with a piercing gaze that showed he thought a lot more than he spoke. He lived with his parents since his divorce some years before and had a daughter who was in college in Germany, studying German culture, to the delight of her grandparents.
The day was gloomy, but while the men cut the trees Jakob showed Jaymie and Shannon how to push them through the netting baler, which protected the branches so they could be piled for transport. Shannon was a husky red-haired young woman, strong and capable. Her hair was braided into two long plaits that hung over her plaid flannel work jacket and almost to the waist of her jeans. Jakob told her to tuck the braids up while she worked, so they were now coiled around her head and secured with bobby pins, a woolen tuque pulled over the whole affair.
She and Jaymie worked out a system between them of handling the heavy trees, and then Shannon hoisted them on her shoulder and stacked them neatly at the base of the big oak tree in which the treehouse sat. By the time they were finished the sun was down behind the woods across the road, the long shadows enveloping the brush along the roadside. There was a stack of trees ready for local lots and service organizations, and more had been tagged for cut-it-yourself, which would start the next day. Her muscles ached, shrieking for a hot bath, but at least she smelled nice, kind of like a car freshener, the scent of pine tickling her nose.
“I am going to make a huge pot of coffee for us all and see what I have in the freezer. My kidlet is coming home from her grandparents in an hour, and we need to eat first!”
Shannon hoisted the last tree onto her shoulder and toted it over, neatly stacking it on top of the others. “I’d offer to help, but I know nothing about cooking.”
“You don’t need to know about cooking to help. You only need to follow orders.”
The two women laughed together and Jaymie shouted to Jakob, Dieter, and Helmut to come in to the cabin when they were done. She led the way inside and told Shannon where she could freshen up. Jaymie washed in the kitchen sink, then rustled in the freezer for a couple of the meals she always kept handy for nights like this.
Shannon returned, face freshly scrubbed, braids long and swinging to her waist. “May I help?”
Jaymie set her to cutting a long loaf of French bread into slices, then chopping vegetables, while she popped the two meat loaves into the oven along with a casserole of scalloped potatoes, set the timer, then set the table. She made a compound butter for the bread. They chatted as they worked, and she learned that Shannon was an economics major.
Jaymie glanced over at her. “Do you know Finn Fancombe?”
Shannon looked up, her bright blue eyes sharp and inquisitive. “He was the TA for my Intro to Econometrics course.”
“Econometrics?”
“That’s the branch of economics that deals with math and statistics to describe economic systems.”
Eyes wide, Jaymie smiled. “Okay. I’m impressed. Is that your area of focus?”
“Not at all, though I feel like I should have a solid grounding in it. I’m taking economics because I want to teach it in developing countries. I think if we in the wealthiest countries are going to share that wealth, we need to help modernize the global economy.”
“Some people shiver when they hear the words global economy,” Jaymie said. She didn’t understand much, but she did hear discussions when loudmouths like Brock Nibley denounced “globalists.”
Shannon smiled, her eyes full of mirth. “Yeah, like we’re all Illuminati out for the New World Order, or some crap like that.”
“I know people like that!”
“Some people don’t like to face reality,” Shannon said. “We live in the world, and the world is a smaller place than it used to be, with every country on the globe tied to every other one. We can choose to ignore it, or participate and make it work for us, and try to make the world a better, more open, more compassionate place. While keeping in mind cultural differences, of course; I don’t want every country in the world to be like every other country. But . . . it will require compromise. It’s like a giant machine with hundreds of working parts, large and small; to work well it needs to be oiled and properly managed. I want to be a part of it.”
“I’m humbled,” Jaymie said softly.
“No, don’t say that. If you believe as I believe, I feel that every single good person is one cog in the wheel. You both support your local economy, and you’re raising a child who will contribute, too.”
Jaymie nodded. “I think I get it.” She paused, then glanced back over, observing the young woman. “You must know Finn pretty well. It’s terrible what happened to him, the expulsion from WC. Do you believe he plagiarized?”
Her blue eyes sparked with anger. “I do not. He marked papers, and let me tell you, as one of his students you had better have every footnote properly annotated and backed up.”
“Hmm.” That supported her own conclusion, that Finn had not plagiarized, that in fact it was Evan who had stolen his work. “What did you think of Finn, as a teacher?”
“He’s terrible. So easily sidetracked. He’s passionate about American economics and how it’s failing the poorest of our citizens, and he tends to get on that topic and head off into the sunset. As an advisor, though, he’s great. One on one, you know? He’s empathetic and smart.”
“Sounds like you like him.”
Her cheeks burned and she ducked her head, chopping green onions for the salad. “I guess I do. But he’s not interested in me.”
“How do you know?”
“A girl just knows.”
The guys came in and they ate dinner together, then Dieter offered to go pick up Jocie at her grandparents’ instead of waiting for her to be dropped off. Jakob grabbed the business plan he was still working on for the Christmas store and flung himself down on the sofa in the living room.
“Are you in a rush?” Jaymie asked Shannon. “Do you want to go for a walk with me and Hoppy?”
Shannon agreed. Jakob looked up from his work. “When you come back, I’d like to talk to you.”
“Okay.”
Jaymie and Shannon headed out with Hoppy on a long leash. The little dog had begged for attention throughout the meal. It was getting darker, so they stuck to the road, an abbreviated stroll. In December, once the sun was down it got very chilly.
Shannon glanced at her sideways. “Your husband was worried when he found out what happened this morning. He was so cute . . . asking his brother if he should go pick you up and bring you home, or what.”
“He asked Helmut, right? What did Helmut say?” Her brother-in-law was so quiet it was hard sometimes to get a read on him. She thought he liked her but was never sure.
“He told Jakob that you would come home if you needed to. He said if any woman knew her own mind, you were her.”
Jaymie smiled into the darkness. Hoppy stopped to bark ferociously, probably at a rabbit in the field along the road. “Let’s head back. C’mon, little guy.” They turned and headed back toward the cabin. It was one of her favorite views, the cabin in the dark, one golden light shining out the front kitchen window. “I’m so blessed,” she said softly. “I waited a while, but it was worth it to find my one guy, the one I know will be mine forever.”
As they returned Dieter pulled up and Jocie jumped out of his car, racing to Jaymie as fast as her little legs would take her. Jaymie crouched down and pulled her daughter to her in a strong hug. This was what she needed after the day she’d had. She had been drained, and now she was replenished.
Di
eter tooted the horn and drove off, and Jaymie, Shannon, Hoppy and Jocie entered the house. Jocie was sleepy after her own big day, but she insisted on heading upstairs to hide a special parcel she carried very carefully. That would be her craft project, Jaymie’s Christmas gift. Jaymie gave her a few minutes, then followed and helped Jocie get ready for bed, tugging her nightgown down over her head and doing her blonde hair in braids. The room smelled suspiciously of jasmine. Jaymie hid her smile and turned out the light. “Good night, sweetie. Family day tomorrow.”
When she returned downstairs Jakob and Shannon were sitting on the burgundy plaid sofa talking. Shannon looked up at her with shining bright blue eyes.
“Guess what? Looks like I’ll be working the Müller Christmas tree lot this year!”
Jakob smiled as Jaymie approached the back of the sofa; he held out his hand to her and enveloped hers in his, bringing it to his lips. “She did a great job today. And I think she’s got the right personality to handle the public. That’s the toughest part.”
“But will you have time, with exams coming up?” Jaymie asked.
She looked stricken for a moment.
“You must already have your schedule, right?” Jakob asked.
She nodded. “I do.”
“As long as you can give that to me tomorrow, we can work around it. How much study time do you need?”
Jaymie smiled as she went to make tea. They’d work it out. As the conversation continued, she offered Shannon time and space in the kitchen for study breaks. It was soon settled and the latest Müller Christmas Tree Farm employee went on her way, ready to be back at ten a.m. on Monday.
Breaking the Mould Page 16