“I’m sure you’re right,” Annie said. “I should just put him out of my mind.”
“Yes.”
“Just forget all about him.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t give him another moment’s thought.”
“That’s my suggestion,” Alice agreed.
Alice sat down a small plate in front of Annie with a huge, warm roll covering most of the surface. Considering that she’d risen early, walked far, returned disheartened, all on an empty stomach, Annie was sure she could devour not only this roll but the other three Alice had brought with her as well.
She stared down at the creamy white icing that oozed into the crevices of the roll. The fragrance of yeast, cinnamon, sugar, and orange rose to coax her appetite into full throttle.
“I still plan to check on him often and make sure he’s all right,” she said as she sank her fork into the tender pastry.
“I guess I should just change the subject,” Alice said.
“I would.” Annie put the forkful of cinnamon roll into her mouth and smiled at her friend.
“OK,” Alice said, smiling back. “So what were you and Ian doing Friday night?”
4
“How did your Princessa jewelry meeting go last night?” Annie asked, putting off her best friend’s prying question about her movie night with Ian.
“Lovely,” Alice said. “There’s a beautiful new line of rose gold coming out soon. You might like to see the previews of what they’re going to offer. I don’t have any samples yet.” She got up to fish a catalog out of her coat pocket. She handed it to Annie. “But you’re avoiding my question. How’d your date go with Ian?”
“It wasn’t a date. I just went over there for popcorn and a movie. These are beautiful, Alice. I want to see some of them when you get your samples.”
Alice gave her a sharp look, but then dropped the subject of Ian Butler.
“By the way, Annie, did you get to talk much to the new woman at the Hook and Needle Club last week?” She sat down.
“You mean Sara Downs? We talked for a bit, but she seems rather shy.”
“I noticed that,” Alice said. “Do you know anything about her?”
“Not really. Probably less than you do.”
“Why less than me?” Alice asked.
“Because,” Annie said, pointing the tines of her fork at Alice, “you have a way of extracting information from people.”
Alice rolled her eyes. “I’m merely curious, that’s all. You, on the other hand, are the true detective.”
“Be that as it may,” Annie said as she got up to rinse off her sticky plate, “I’m not probing into her life just to satisfy your curiosity. And by the way, that was the best cinnamon roll I’ve ever had in my life.”
“Thanks. So do you know where Sara came from?” Alice asked.
“She didn’t tell me.”
“Hmm,” Alice mused. “Do you know how old she is?”
“No.”
Alice twisted her mouth. “Is she married?”
“I don’t know,” Annie said. “Give me your plate, and I’ll rinse it off.”
Alice handed it over absentmindedly. “I wonder if she has kids.”
Annie put the dishes in the dishwasher and closed it. She turned to her friend.
“Alice, my dear, if you are so all-fired curious about the woman, then ask her all these questions at the next meeting.”
Alice pulled in the corners of her mouth. “All right. I will!”
“Good. Now, come into the living room. I finished Ian’s sweater the other day, and I want you to see it.”
Annie showed Alice the midnight blue sweater and asked, “Do you think he’ll like it?”
“Annie, you know Ian will love anything you make for him, even if you were to crochet him a pair of pink and purple socks.”
Annie laughed. “Well, I’m not going to do that! I’m saving pink and purple socks to give to you.”
“Ha!” Alice said, snickering. “What else have you made for Christmas?”
Annie laid out scarves, mittens, slippers, afghans, caps, and dishcloths on the floral sofa.
“Which is mine?” Alice said, grinning wickedly as she eyed the assortment of winter goods.
“Do you see any pink and purple socks here?” Annie teased. She hoped Alice would love the lavender shell afghan she’d made for her. It was already wrapped in shiny red-and-green foil, with a wide, white ribbon bow. It seemed to Annie that wrapping and unwrapping gifts was a large part of the fun of Christmas and birthdays. Gift bags were lovely, but they certainly kept the fun and suspense of opening presents to a minimum. She rarely used them.
“I’m nearly finished with the crocodile-stitch shawl I’m making LeeAnn,” she said. “I hope to mail their gifts early next week. I should have mailed them earlier, I guess, but I just couldn’t seem to stop making things for them. Every time I got John’s gift finished, I’d think of something else for Joanna. And it just went on and on.” She let her voice trail for a bit as she thought of how much she missed the kids, and then how much she missed LeeAnn being little. It especially came home to her how much she missed being an all-the-time mother and grandmother instead of a halfway-across-the-country one. It would have been nice to spend the holidays with her family, but it wouldn’t happen this year.
Fearing Alice would sense her change in mood, Annie forced a bright smile and said, “I still need to finish the granny-square afghan for Reverend Wallace and his wife. Last September, I overheard June tell someone that they’d received a granny-square afghan as a wedding gift, and how much they’d both loved it. They lost it when their first house burned down.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. But I bet they’ll love the one you made.”
“I hope so.”
Alice fingered one of the scarves and then slid a sideways look at Annie.
“You know, if you want to be altruistic, I think maybe Sara Downs could use help more than that old man on the beach.”
“Oh?” Annie folded Ian’s sweater neatly.
“Did you notice how she was dressed?” Alice asked. “Her shoes were worn out.”
“I noticed.”
“And her clothes didn’t fit,” Alice said.
“She looks thin,” Annie agreed.
“Yes. And lonely.”
“Well, yes,” Annie again agree. “She does.”
“So … I think if you’re going to worry about taking care of someone,” Alice concluded, “Sara would appreciate it far more than that old geezer recluse.”
“I’d be happy to help Sara if she’s willing,” Annie said. “Have a seat, and let me get a fire started. How about a refill on your coffee?”
“That would be great,” Alice said, “but I’ll fill our cups while you tend to the fire. This is a day for toasting ourselves in front of it, isn’t it? I brought my quilt square, and I’m determined to finish it before the Hook and Needle Club meeting Tuesday.”
A little later they sat comfortably near the fire in the jade-green armchair and a comfy old rocker that had been a favorite of Gram’s.
Annie’s crochet hook seemed to fly with the yarn as she put the last row on LeeAnn’s silvery shawl. Alice chewed on her lower lip as she industriously cross-stitched a representation of the multipaned glass door of the library.
“All I have left after I get this door finished is the little brass plaque beside it,” Alice noted.
Annie paused to admire her friend’s fine needlework. “It’s absolutely beautiful,” she said. “I think our quilt will be admired for many years.”
“Yes, hanging in the entry hall of the Town Hall, everyone will be able to see it. I’m glad they’re going to put it behind glass. Can you imagine how dusty and dirty it would get eventually, what with people coming and going out the front door all the time?”
They worked in silence for a time.
“Do you know where Sara lives?” Annie asked.
“As I said before, I know nothin
g about her, except that she works at the diner.”
“At least she has a job. That’s a good thing.”
“Maybe she’s just getting settled in,” Alice said, after a minute or two.
“Very likely.”
Another minute passed.
“If it wasn’t such a rotten day, we could invite her here for supper.”
They both looked out the window at the sleet and snow that came down in such abundance. In unison, they sighed heavily.
“No one is going anywhere for a while,” Annie said. “In fact, you may as well plan on spending a couple of days here.”
Alice grinned real big. “I was hoping you’d suggest that. I brought my PJs and toothbrush.”
“So where are they? In your coat pocket?”
Alice laughed, got up and went to the front door. She returned a moment later with an overnight case and a large tote bag.
Annie stared at the bags and her friend’s half-embarrassed expression, and then she burst out laughing.
“What—you didn’t want to be alone—snowed in—in the carriage house, I take it.”
“You take it right. I just don’t trust my furnace, and I think the wiring is going a little dodgy now. Last night, right in the middle of I Was a Male War Bride on TCM, everything in the living room and my bedroom went off. I was tired, so I decided to turn in, but then everything came back on at four this morning. I don’t appreciate being awakened at 4 a.m. by a blaring television.” She put her overnight case aside, sat down, and picked up her quilt square. “This will be nice, Annie. I brought a loaf of bread I made last night and a keg of vegetable stew for lunch.”
“Great! I bought some of that good cheddar at the market. We’ll have grilled cheese sandwiches and stew for lunch.”
The rest of that day and Sunday, Annie and Alice stayed busy and happy, snowed in at Grey Gables.
About mid-afternoon on Sunday Mary Beth Brock called.
“Hi, Annie. Do you still have electricity at Grey Gables?”
“Our power is still on,” Annie said. At that moment, the CD player filled the front room with soft jazz, and the lamps added their golden yellow glow to the room. “Did you lose yours?”
“Most of Stony Point did. I tried calling Alice, but she doesn’t answer her phone, and I’m worried.”
“Oh, she’s here, safe and sound! We had a sleepover last night, complete with snacks and movies and lots of giggling. We’ve done a lot of crafting too. You should see Alice’s quilt square. It’s gorgeous.”
“What fun! I wish I could’ve joined you.”
“That would have been great, Mary Beth. Why not come now if you can get out? Alice is going to whip up a hot-fudge cake, and I’m going to make snow ice cream.”
“Oh, that’s sounds delicious!” Mary Beth said. “Thanks for inviting me, but I can’t get out of my driveway.”
“That’s too bad. It would be fun, the three of us.”
Mary Beth laughed. “Sometimes it seems we girls never outgrow a party, do we?” She laughed again and then continued, “The other reason I called you: Have you heard the latest about our Stony Point Secret Santa Claus?”
“Alice told me earlier about Bud Favor’s motorcycle. Isn’t that great?”
“Yes, it is. But that’s not the latest.”
“You mean someone else has received a gift?”
Alice lifted her head sharply, looking at Annie with open expectation.
“Yes! Reverend Wallace went to check on the church building this morning—we didn’t have services because the roads are icy, but you know our pastor. He wanted to be there just in case anyone showed up. Well, at some point between yesterday morning and this morning before he arrived …” she paused dramatically, “someone dropped a large manila envelope of money through the brass mail slot in the front door.”
“What?” Annie sputtered in surprise. “Oh, my goodness! How wonderful!”
Alice’s eyes brightened with growing curiosity, and she squirmed forward in her chair. “What?” she mouthed. Annie held up one hand, stalling her questions.
“How much money was in it?” Annie asked. Alice put down her cross-stitch and got up.
“Would you believe it matched the exact amount we need to replace the roof?”
Annie took this in. That meant several thousand dollars because the old shingles needed to be removed, and J.L. Roofing—the company that had inspected the roof a few weeks previously—said it appeared some of the decking would have to be replaced as well.
“I think that’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time!” she said.
Alice now stood beside her, fidgeting and mouthing “What? What?” like an eager eight-year-old. Annie grinned at her.
“It’s great,” Mary Beth agreed. “And it makes you wonder what other blessings are coming, doesn’t it?”
“It really does,” Annie said. “News like this warms my heart. Keep me informed, Mary Beth, will you?”
“I will, Annie. And now, I better go stir my chowder before it scorches. You and Alice have fun—and stay warm!”
“You too. Thanks for calling!”
She hung up, and Alice grabbed her hand.
“OK! Spill it! Did the mysterious Santa leave another gift?”
“Indeed he did—enough money at the church for the roof to be replaced. Reverend Wallace found it this morning. Apparently someone slipped it through the old mail slot in the front door sometime between yesterday morning and the time he found it today.”
Alice clapped her hands in excitement. “That’s so great! Oh, I know how much the church has needed a new roof. God bless our secret giver!”
They returned to their chairs and their handiwork, chattering about the church, the old-fashioned door with its built-in slot for mail, and the leaks in various places that discolored the ceiling.
Suddenly Annie’s hands stilled and the yarn lay forgotten for a moment between her fingers.
“Alice,” she said, “who would have known the exact amount of money that was needed to fix that roof?”
“Reverend Wallace and the church board,” Alice said as she continued to industriously push her needle and floss through the image of a cardinal in a snowy pine tree. She paused, looking up at her friend. “Also the roofing company, and probably anyone from the church who asked. Why?”
Annie’s eyes were narrowed in thought.
“Because that gift was the exact amount needed, so that means ….”
Alice stopped her own handwork.
“That means our mysterious Santa is someone familiar with the details of the church!”
“Right.”
“But, Annie,” Alice leaned forward slightly, “who in the church has that kind of money? Reverend Wallace?”
“Oh, I hardly think so. Besides, he’s the one who found the money.”
“Well, he might have said he found the money so no one would suspect him.”
Annie shook her head. “Reverend Wallace wouldn’t lie. And besides, if he had funds like that, the church wouldn’t have gone so long with a leaky roof.”
“That’s true,” Alice said with a sigh. She named members of the church board. “None of them have the kind of money that’s been spent around here lately,” Alice concluded.
Annie sighed with her and picked up her crochet hook.
“At least no one can say it was me this time. I was here with you this whole time.”
“No, you weren’t!” Alice retorted. “When I showed up yesterday, you had been out already. You might have gone down to the church yesterday morning before I got here. You were still dressed in going-out clothes.”
Annie stared at her friend.
“I cannot believe you entertained the thought—even for a half-second—that I gave away a vast amount of money that I don’t have.”
Alice smiled a smile that seemed to carry a bit of a secret and a lot of a smirk.
“So you say. But no one knows for sure—now do we?”
Ann
ie continued to stare at her in disbelief. “That’s crazy talk, and I don’t want to hear any more of it.”
Alice laughed, made a little locking gesture in front of her lips, giggled again, and then she returned to her cross-stitching.
Alice’s reaction further cemented in Annie’s mind the need to uncover the identity of the real Stony Point Secret Santa. It simply was not right to be credited for something so generous and lovely when she had nothing whatsoever to do with any of it. One thing about it, though, she’d have to investigate it on her own. Apparently Alice would be no help.
5
Monday morning when Annie got up and opened her curtains, the sun glared off brilliant glistening snow, and the sky above was so blue it looked nearly brittle. It wasn’t the blinding sunlight that woke her up that morning, though. It was the sound of a snow plow in her driveway.
“What on earth?” Alice said, disheveled and yawning as she stood in Annie’s bedroom doorway. She shambled across the floor in her fuzzy slippers and yawned again.
“Someone is clearing my driveway,” Annie said in amazement. “Who is that?”
“Wow, it’s bright out there!” Alice squinted at the machine and its driver. “I can’t tell. Don’t you know?”
Annie shook her head. “I didn’t ask anyone to do that.”
“Hmm. Odd.” Alice yawned again and scruffed her hair. “Wish he’d clear mine.”
“Well, this is one mystery I can solve ASAP,” Annie declared, turning from the window. “I’m going out there and asking him!”
“In your pajamas?” Alice said, sounding appalled.
“In my pajamas and coat and boots and gloves. If I get dressed, he’ll be finished and gone before I get out there. He’s almost finished now!”
She rushed into her wraps and boots and hurried outside, catching the driver just as he made his final run down the driveway.
He saw her, stopped, and waited.
“Hello!” she shouted over the sound of the tractor’s engine.
He nodded once.
“Thank you for clearing my driveway, but I didn’t order this service.”
A Stony Point Christmas Page 4