A Stony Point Christmas

by K. D. McCrite

  Stella sniffed. “Well, it was just a thought. I hope that poor woman doesn’t think she’s going to make a living making those little things.”

  Alice and Annie exchanged a glance, but Kate was the one who spoke up.

  “I was on the phone a couple of times, so I didn’t hear everything that was said. Did Sara say she planned to make bookmarks for a living?”

  Looking at Kate’s pretty eyes and her questioning expression, Annie doubted Kate’s question was as serious as her voice sounded. But Stella never looked up from her stitching.

  “She didn’t say that,” Gwen said, “but I’m sure she hopes to make some extra money.”

  No one spoke for a little bit and then Stella said, to no one in particular, “She surely doesn’t have much to say, that one.”

  Annie stirred a little in her chair. “Maybe she feels uncomfortable.”

  “Uncomfortable?” Stella glanced up long enough to frown over the rims of her glasses. “Why on earth would she feel uncomfortable? We’re a personable group of women. We welcomed her into our circle.”

  Mary Beth cleared her throat.

  “Yes, and she’s going to be an asset, I believe. Now, we haven’t mentioned the quilt yet, but I want you to know that all of you have made me proud with your hard work. Thanks for your participation and for bringing in your finished quilt blocks over the last few days. Peggy gave me hers depicting The Cup & Saucer this morning. That completes all our blocks, so now I’m ready to take it to Barbara Westinghouse as soon as the meeting is over.”

  The door of the shop opened and a young man in workman’s heavy coveralls and a wool cap pulled over his ears entered. He glanced around, looking slightly surprised to see a group of woman sitting in a circle working on needlecrafts. His gaze finally landed on Mary Beth.

  “Ms. Brock! Where do you want the refrigerator?”

  Every woman in the place held her project immobile and gaped at the young man.

  “Refrigerator?” Mary Beth echoed, as if she’d never heard the word before.

  “Yes, ma’am. We’re parked in the alley by the back door, but it’s locked. Tom thought maybe we got our directions mixed up and were to deliver it to your home.”

  “What?” Mary Beth said weakly. Then she rallied and said, “You’re mixed up, I think, Brad. I didn’t order a refrigerator for here, or for my house.”

  He merely looked at her and shrugged. “I’m sorry, Ms. Brock. I’m just doing what I was told to do, and that was to deliver a refrigerator to you.” An expression crossed his face, and he blushed a little as he pulled something from his pocket. He said, “I forgot. I was supposed to give this to you.”

  He handed her a small envelope. While everyone watched with curiosity and anticipation, Mary Beth broke the seal and took out a square, white card and read the words aloud: “This gift is for you to enjoy. Merry Christmas, from Stony Point’s Santa.”

  Mary Beth plunked down suddenly in the chair nearest her, next to Gwen who gazed at her from wide, happy eyes.

  “Mary Beth!” Kate and Peggy said in unison, excitement in their voices.

  “I can hardly believe it!” Alice said, and Annie exclaimed, “It’s just what you needed!”

  Stella shook her head.

  “Who on earth is giving these gifts?” she asked.

  “Mary Beth, how wonderful!” Gwen said, her fingers on the woman’s forearm. “You aren’t going to faint, are you?”

  “No,” Mary Beth said weakly. “No, I don’t think so. Oh, my.”

  “Here,” Kate said, handing her a glass of water.

  They waited as she drank deeply. “Oh, my,” she said again.

  “Can you unlock that back door, Ms. Brock?” the delivery boy said, grinning.

  Mary Beth looked at him, dazed.

  “I’ll get it, Brad,” Kate said. She patted Mary Beth’s head and then hurried to the back door.

  “Now,” said Peggy, “you won’t have to worry any more about food spoiling when you have it here.”

  A little later, after the men had unloaded and installed the refrigerator in the corner of the storage room, the women tromped into the back to admire it. Small and sleek, its stainless steel sides gleaming in the overhead light, the refrigerator gave an air of elegance to the place where boxes of yarn, craft books, needles, buttons, and other crafting miscellanea were neatly stored.

  “It’s just the right size for that space,” Mary Beth breathed.

  “And now you need a nice little dinette to go with it,” Alice said, “and maybe a soft little armchair and ottoman so you can put up your feet during breaks.”

  “I’d give you my little table, because we have really outgrown it, but if I did that, where would we eat?” Peggy said gaily as she ran her palm along the cool steel. “Besides, two of the chairs have been broken. Wally fixed them as best he could, but I wouldn’t want to give them away. What if one broke when you sat on it?” She laughed. “We don’t want Mary Beth or Kate ending up on the floor!”

  Mary Beth laughed and hugged Peggy. “Thank you for the thought,” she said, “but really, we’re fine with our card table and the folding chair.”

  “That can’t be comfortable,” Annie said. “I have a small arm chair and ottoman that would fit perfectly in this little nook,” she continued. It sat unused in one of the spare rooms at Grey Gables, and it would be ideal for the women to relax in while they enjoyed their breaks.

  “Annie …” Mary Beth said, and Annie saw she was about to protest.

  “It’s not doing me a bit of good, and I’d love to see it used,” she said. “I wish I’d thought of it earlier.”

  “And I have a sweet little table with two chairs you may have,” Stella offered.

  “Well, my goodness!” Mary Beth’s eyes filled with tears.

  7

  “Not many in here today,” Alice said as she and Annie settled into a booth covered with dark green vinyl at The Cup & Saucer The green ivy accents and bright yellow cups and saucers in the diner made a pleasant contrast to winter weather. The friends had decided to have lunch together after the Hook and Needle Club meeting.

  “Well, no,” Annie said with a smile. “Look outside.”

  Alice twisted her mouth. “Annie, don’t you know we Mainers are used to snow? You’ve lived up here long enough by now.”

  Annie sighed. “I know. White Christmas and all, huh?”

  “Usually,” Alice said as a waitress—not Peggy since she took the day off—brought menus.

  They each ordered clam chowder and hot tea—something to warm them from the inside out, as Gram would have said.

  Alice gave her friend a sharp look.

  “Annie, how did Stony Point’s Santa know that Mary Beth’s fridge stopped working?”

  Annie shrugged. “I have no idea, but isn’t it great? What a darling little refrigerator ….” She let her voice trail and narrowed her eyes, staring at Alice. “I hope you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, because if you are, you can think again. I had nothing to do with that!”

  Alice raised one eye brow in the most maddening way.

  “I just heard you give away a perfectly good chair and ottoman.”

  “And Stella, who can sometimes be a little tightfisted, gave Mary Beth a table and chairs. It’s the season of giving, Alice.”

  Alice blinked. “She did! Maybe she’s Stony Point’s Santa.”

  Annie had been thinking the same thing, although Stella seemed about as far from being Santa Claus as anyone she could think of.

  “Well, all I can say is I hope none of the other women in the club think I’m the person behind this secret gift-giving,” Annie said.

  Alice sort of shrugged, and her suspicious little smile once again irked Annie a bit.

  “Listen. I’m saying this again: I’m not taking credit for giving away money, motorcycles, refrigerators, or anything else that’s being done anonymously. When I give gifts, it’s obvious, just like with the chair and ottoman. OK?�
��

  Alice grinned. “OK.”

  But Annie was fairly certain her friend still wasn’t persuaded.

  Just before they left, Sara came out of the kitchen, a large white apron wrapped around her tiny frame and her lank hair caught back in a hairnet. She pushed a cart and bussed tables, but she did not see Annie and Alice on the opposite side of the room.

  “I like Sara a lot,” Annie said as they watched her remove plates from the first table. “There is a true artist and a warm heart in that tired little body.”

  Alice nodded. “She’s awfully shy, but I think she’ll warm up to us as time goes on.”

  “Oh, yes!” Annie said with a smile. “Did you see how enthusiastic she was when she started talking about her bookmarks?”

  “Those were gorgeous! I loved all the patterns, so I’m going to buy several of them.”

  “Me too. You know, the twins need bookmarks. And LeeAnn has always been a big reader.”

  “If Sara took them to Dollie Bracken’s Gift Boutique, I bet Miss Dollie would buy them from her,” Alice said. “Her shop carries such lovely, elegant items.”

  “Yes! And so would The Gift Gallery in Portland,” Annie added.

  “And there’s that bookstore in Portland too—Books Galore,” said Alice. “These would fit right in there.”

  The two women grinned at each other like a couple of co-conspirators, all but rubbing their hands in anticipation.

  “Shall we tell her now?” Alice asked as they watched Sara move to the next table.

  “No, let’s not yet,” Annie said.

  Alice frowned. “Why not?”

  “Because if those businesses don’t want to sell her bookmarks, then Sara would never need to know. I’d hate to build up her hopes just to crush them.” She gazed at Sara as she dipped a dishcloth in a small container of water, wrung it out, and wiped off the table.

  “You’re right,” Alice said in an undertone as their new friend grew nearer.

  Sara looked from her work, smiling when she saw Annie and Alice. Raising one hand, she offered a tentative wave before finishing with the table. When she finally reached the two women, she smiled again.

  “Hi! I didn’t know you two would be in today.”

  “We often come for a bite of lunch after the Hook and Needle Club meeting,” Annie said.

  Alice added, “It’s one of our favorite things to do!”

  Sara nodded and glanced around. “It’s a nice place. This is probably the best job I’ve ever had. The boss is real nice, and the waitresses treat me with respect. I like that.”

  It was obvious by Sara’s downtrodden demeanor that she’d rarely been shown respect. Annie just wanted to hug her with all the pent-up maternal energy she had, even though Sara was probably her age or even a little older. She settled for touching the woman’s forearm with her fingertips and smiling at her warmly.

  “I’m so glad you like your job,” Annie said. “I do believe this is a great place to work. It’s certainly a fine place to eat.”

  Sara smiled, nodded, and started to move on, but Annie stalled her again.

  “Could you do something for me?” she asked.

  “I’ll try.”

  “I know you have your bookmarks with you because you came straight here from the meeting—right?”

  Sara nodded.

  “Would you be willing to let me borrow two or three of them, just to look at for a while? Maybe, at some point, you can teach me some of those patterns, and I can use them in an afghan.”

  “Oh, sure!” Sara said. “I’d be happy to.”

  She left and returned a minute later with three bookmarks.

  “Here they are. Keep them as long as you need to, Annie.” She met Annie’s eyes and smiled with genuine friendship.

  “Thanks!” Annie looked at the bookmarks; one contained an image of a hummingbird, another had roses, and the remaining one had praying hands. She was sure these would be ideal for her true purpose in asking to borrow them. “You know, Sara, you’ll have to come over to Grey Gables sometime, and we’ll have a little crochet party.”

  “Hey!” Alice said. “What about me?”

  Annie looked at her friend and laughed. “You can bring your cross-stitch. Maybe we’ll have another pajama party.”

  “On New Year’s Eve. Let’s do it!” Alice said. “What do you think, Sara?”

  Sara ducked her head. “That would be fun,” she murmured. “Peggy says Grey Gables is really beautiful.”

  “Then I’ll take you on the grand tour when you visit,” Annie said, her arms spread out dramatically.

  “That would be nice,” Sara said again. “Well, I have to get back to work now. You ladies have a nice day.”

  As soon as they were out of The Cup & Saucer, Alice said, “You are a wily woman, Annie Dawson, the way you got those bookmarks.”

  “Well, not altogether wily,” Annie said. “I do want to examine the patterns and see if I can’t translate them into a piece made with yarn. But the main purpose is so I’ll have something to show Miss Dollie. Shall we go there now?”

  “Let’s do. But it’s not that far, and the sidewalk is almost clear. Let’s walk.”

  “All right! I need the exercise.”

  “Me too!” Alice agreed.

  Annie wondered if there was ever a woman their age who did not say, frequently, “I need the exercise.” When they reached the boutique, Annie read aloud the sign posted on the door, “Closed until April 1st.”

  “Oh no!” she said in disappointment. “I’m sure Miss Dollie would have ordered some bookmarks.”

  “I suppose business is bad if she’s closed during the holidays. But maybe things will pick up in the spring when the tourists return.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Annie said.

  Alice agreed, and then said, “We may as well go home. Unless you need to go somewhere else.”

  “Nowhere here in town, but I do need to take care of something when I get home.”

  “Oh?”

  Annie grinned. “Put your curiosity meter away. It’s just a private little matter I need to tend to.”

  “Uh huh. It’s that old man, isn’t it? You’re going to go chasing after him, aren’t you?”

  Annie kept walking and did not reply.

  “See? See?” Alice taunted her. “By your very silence you’re saying yes.”

  “So what if I am?” Annie said. “I’m just going to make sure he’s all right, that’s all.”

  They walked without speaking until they got in Annie’s classic Chevy Malibu.

  “I just hope he’s not some kind of serial killer,” Alice said as she fastened her seat belt.

  Annie backed out of the parking place.

  “I hope he isn’t, either.”

  She said no more on the subject and neither did Alice until Annie stopped to let her friend out at the carriage house.

  “How about if I come with you?”

  “To check on the old man?”

  “Yes.”

  “No,” Annie said.

  Alice huffed. “Why not?”

  “Because he doesn’t want me there. I’m sure he doesn’t want someone tagging along.”

  “But what if he pulls a gun or a knife or a machete or something?”

  Annie laughed. “He won’t. He’s old and he’s frail.”

  “Old and frail does not mean he can’t squeeze a trigger.”

  “I’m not worried, Alice. I’m going to go check on him quickly, and as soon as I’m back I’ll give you a call, all right?”

  Alice narrowed her eyes as if she were a stern parent. “Take your cellphone with you, and I mean it.”

  Annie laughed, reached over, and surprised her worried friend with a hug. “All right. I will.”

  “I have a can of mace. You want that?”

  “Oh, Alice!”

  “I’m serious. I can run in and get it for you in a jiffy.”

  “No. I’m not going to mace some poor old man whom I’m trying
to make sure is warm and fed.”

  “All right.” Alice unfastened her seat belt, gathered her cross-stitch and purse, then got out of the car. “Call me. I mean it.”

  “I shall. I mean it.”

  A few minutes later, as Annie faced the cold walk toward the shack, Alice’s concerns and warnings clanged in her mind like unwanted noise. If she were totally honest with herself, Annie would have to admit she was a little apprehensive about the old man’s ability to harm her. On the other hand, she couldn’t look at herself in the mirror if she chose not to follow through on seeing him through the winter—at least as long as he stayed on the beach.

  Apparently he had seen her approaching his shack. He opened the door far enough that she could see him.

  “I’m fine. Go home. Don’t come back.”

  He shut his door; she heard the lock click. He had looked fine; he had sounded strong. Smoke came from his chimney.

  Go home, Annie, she told herself. She turned and retraced her steps to Grey Gables.

  8

  The following Monday afternoon, Annie finished the last of the last-minute gifts she’d made for LeeAnn, Herb, and the twins. She wrapped every gift separately and packed them in the two cartons she planned to take to the post office the next day.

  After such a busy week, she decided to celebrate by watching It’s a Wonderful Life on television. She so enjoyed the holidays because of all the heartwarming, fun Christmas movies and programs available. If she wasn’t careful, Annie could sit for hours crocheting as she watched holiday movies on the Hallmark Movie Channel or some other family-friendly network.

  She put a bag of popcorn in the microwave; then she became aware of an odd sound in another room. She chased down the noise and found that Boots—that dear, sweet cat who was often so warm and lovable—had dug her way through the shredded newspaper in one of the cartons and had clawed away half the paper on one of Herb’s gifts. As Annie watched, Boots tugged on the ribbon of LeeAnn’s present as if her survival depended on shredding it.

  “Boots!”