Maggie drew her arms tighter around him and snuggled in. “I believe we’re all set. Not another thing to do until tomorrow. The night is still young—any idea how you’d like to spend it?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
***
Sunday arrived, cold and gray. Snow was predicted that night and clouds blocked the sun. The inclement weather only served to accent Rosemont’s charm and coziness. The fireplaces and candles were lit, the Christmas tree sparkled.
Sam and Joan Torres arrived right after church, insisting that Maggie put them to work. Maggie sent Sam and John to tend the fires and whip up the first batch of Pink Lady cocktails—the only alcoholic beverage on the menu—while she and Joan set out the tea cakes, scones, and finger sandwiches, and brewed vast quantities of tea.
Although the invitation stated that this would be an open house with tea served from two until five o’clock, all but a few stragglers had arrived by two fifteen. High-spirited laughter filled the house as people visited the buffet and Maggie, Joan, and Nancy Knudsen restocked the trays and ferried hot tea into the dining room.
Maggie was on her way back into the kitchen when someone tapped her shoulder from behind. She turned to face a beaming Judy Young, flanked by Tonya Holmes.
“Turn right around and fix yourself a plate,” Judy ordered. “If we don’t force your hand, you won’t get a bite to eat at your own party.”
Maggie laughed and shook her head in protest.
Tonya stepped in. “Judy’s right. We’ve got it from here. Get a cup of tea and go enjoy your guests. Besides,” she added with a malevolent twinkle in her eye, “you need to check out Frank Haynes and Mr. and Mrs. Delgado. They’re sitting in the far corner of the library.”
“You’re kidding. They RSVP’d, but I didn’t think they’d actually show up.”
“The Mrs. is loving it. I overheard Chuck ask John if there was any real booze around the place—not just that ‘girlie drink.’ And Frank’s examining Rosemont as if he were an appraiser. It’s Christmas; I shouldn’t be so catty. But those two are definitely odd.”
“You’ve got me there; that’s a sight I want to see,” Maggie said. “Everything you’ll need is out on the counters. I won’t be more than a few minutes.”
“Take your time and enjoy yourself,” Judy reiterated.
Maggie selected a buttermilk scone and lemon bar, filled a cup with fragrant white tea, and made her way into the party. She crossed the living room, greeting her guests and exchanging pleasantries as quickly as politeness would allow. Her destination was the library, more particularly the Delgado-Haynes table. Taking a deep breath, she approached, setting her cup on the table and drawing up a chair.
“May I join you? I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said, extending her hand to Bertha Delgado.
“Lovely place you got here, ma’am,” Mrs. Delgado gushed, rocking the table and sending tea sloshing into saucers as she stood to take Maggie’s hand. “So Christmas-y and all.”
“Thank you,” Maggie replied simply. “Please, sit.”
“I can’t get Chuck to hang so much as a single strand of lights from the eves,” she continued, shooting her husband a reproachful look. Delgado turned aside and fixed his gaze on the swirling snow outside the window. “No. It’s all on me.” She sighed heavily. “How on earth did you get this done by yourself? I can’t imagine.”
“Oh, I had plenty of assistance.” Maggie assured her.
“Who do you use? I’d like to have his name, since I get no cooperation from this one,” she said, gesturing to her husband with her elbow.
“Actually, my friend John Allen pitched in.”
“Ahhh,” Bertha replied, intrigued. “That’s not the usual service you get from a vet. How do you know Dr. Allen?”
“I met him when I adopted a dog—or, rather when she adopted me during my first week in Westbury. John’s our vet.”
Bertha raised one brow quizzically. Maggie took a breath and continued. “We started seeing each other, took a break, and got re-matched through an online dating service.”
“Now that is very nice. He’s quite the looker isn’t he? Quite a catch. He’s been the most eligible bachelor in town for years.”
Bertha noticed Haynes’ grimace out of the corner of her eye. “Right behind our Frank, here,” she quickly added, tapping his knee. “Which online dating service? Maybe Frank should try it, unless he’s a confirmed bachelor.” She nodded at Frank. “Too successful to want to share any of it with someone else?”
Haynes turned away in disgust. “Give it a rest, Bertha. Nobody cares,” Delgado said.
Maggie cleared her throat.
“So, which online dating service?” Bertha repeated.
“DogLovers.com,” Maggie replied. “As a matter of fact, I was DogLover7717 and John was DogLover7718. We got a big kick out of that,” she said to fill the awkward silence.
Haynes lost his grip on his empty plate and it clattered to the carpet. He rose quickly, picked it up, and fished his fork out from under Bertha’s chair. “Nice spread, Maggie. I think I’ll go back for seconds. Will you excuse me?” he asked before walking stiffly away.
“Now you’ve done it, Bertha,” Delgado exclaimed. “You’ve pissed him off. That’s the last thing I need.”
Bertha smiled uneasily. Maggie could taste the tension at the table. She took a quick bite of her lemon bar and scanned the room for an out. At the far side of the fireplace she spotted Glenn and Gloria at a small table. Gloria glanced in her direction and waved. Seizing the opportunity, Maggie rose.
“I’d better go mingle with my guests. Don’t get up,” she said to Bertha. “Please help yourselves to more of everything,” she added, gesturing toward the dining room. She turned to leave. “And have a very Merry Christmas.”
Maggie made her way to Glenn and Gloria as quickly as possible while balancing a full cup of tea. She always felt vaguely sleazy during an encounter with Chuck Delgado, and his wife didn’t do anything to minimize that effect. She needed the warmth and goodness of this older couple.
Glenn stood and pulled out her chair. Gloria took Maggie’s hand in her own as she sat down. “My dear, Rosemont is a lovely home, but you’ve transformed it with your efforts. It’s absolutely stunning. Everything’s perfect.”
Glenn nodded his agreement. “We’ve been combining our households since we got married,” he said, shooting Gloria an adoring glance. “So we decided we wouldn’t bother with a Christmas tree this year. Looking at all this, we’ve decided we’re wrong on that score. We’ll be stopping on the way home to pick one up.”
“Just a small one,” Gloria rushed to add, giving Glenn a stern look. “Tabletop size only.”
Glenn rolled his eyes and Maggie laughed. “Sounds like a wonderful idea. You’ve got to have a tree for your first Christmas as husband and wife.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Glenn chimed in. “But until we came here and saw your tree, Gloria wasn’t having it.”
“You know, I didn’t plan to put up a tree or any decorations this year, either,” Maggie stated. They looked at her incredulously. “I was going to spend Christmas with my children and grandchildren in California. I didn’t see the point of decorating this year.”
“So what changed your mind? Who convinced you to do all this?” Glenn asked.
“My family was here for Thanksgiving and found boxes and boxes of vintage decorations in the attic; most of what you see here. My daughter was the ringleader; she decided that we should drag everything out of the attic, get a tree, and decorate Rosemont. There were lots of people to help, and one thing led to another. You know how that goes.”
They both nodded in unison.
“By the time they went back to California, all of this was done.”
“How wonderful!” Gloria exclaimed. Her gaze swept the room. “It’ll be a big job taking it all down. We can’t get up on ladders anymore, but we could help you wrap and pack things back up.”
Maggie smiled and rubbed Gloria’s hand. “What a nice offer. You’re right; this will be a lot of work to take down. I considered that when we were decorating. My family was having such fun, I didn’t have the heart to be a wet blanket. We moms get ourselves into hot water that way, don’t we?” she asked, turning to Gloria with a smile.
“We most certainly do. For better or worse, if my family wanted something, I’d usually find a way.”
“Exactly. But the most unexpected thing happened. My kids—even my granddaughters—decided that they’d rather come back to Rosemont for Christmas than have me go out to California. So I get to host them all again.”
“How wonderful! I can see why they’d want to come back,” Glenn said.
“Be sure they help you put all this away,” Gloria admonished.
Glenn turned to Maggie. “Did I see Frank Haynes over by the French doors? I want to wish him a very happy holiday and invite him to join us for dinner some evening when he’s available—to thank him.”
Maggie smiled. “I’m sure he’d like that. He just went to get something from the buffet. He’ll be back any minute,” she replied. “Now, I should check on things in the kitchen. We’ll talk before you leave. And do get yourself a Christmas tree. I’d be sorry if I hadn’t.”
***
Frank Haynes scanned the buffet table, but he’d apparently lost his appetite. So Maggie was the one woman online who had interested him? She was DogLover7717, the woman who had cancelled their coffee date? Didn’t that just figure, he fumed. And now she was involved, again, with the good doctor.
He halted at the base of the staircase and thought of the night he’d rescued her from the attic. What was it she’d called him? Her white knight? He flushed as he remembered the feeling of her body stumbling into him; of his arms around her shoulders, steadying her. Then he cursed himself for thinking there’d ever be anything between them.
Suddenly another memory surfaced, the folder labeled F.H./Rosemont, and Frank Haynes smiled his Grinch Who Stole Christmas grin. He knew what he had to do. He glanced swiftly over his shoulder. When he was sure no one was paying any attention to him, he ascended the stairs.
***
By late afternoon, Maggie’s guests had had their fill of teacakes and scones. Still, no one made a move for the door. Instead, people lingered and relaxed. Maggie was headed toward the kitchen when John intercepted her and pulled her through the back door onto the porch.
“What are you doing? It’s freezing out here,” she cried.
John wrapped his arms around her. “Better?” he asked. “I’ve watched you flit around all afternoon. I wanted a moment with you by myself,” he smiled down at her.
“Since you put it like that, fine.” She placed her arms around his neck and they kissed, gently swaying like teenagers at a school dance.
When they finished, Maggie rested her head on his shoulder. “This has been nice. I think everyone’s had a good time.”
“Are you kidding? It’ll be the talk of the town for the next year. Judy’s been snapping photos like mad. She’s probably already posted them to Facebook.”
“Really? That’ll be good. I didn’t even think of taking pictures. I’ll send them to Susan and Amy. And the twins. They’ll think this is pretty neat.”
Maggie shivered.
“This will have to hold me for a while,” John said. “Let’s get you back inside.”
As they entered through the kitchen door, they heard the first strains of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” coming from the grand piano in the conservatory.
“Music!” Maggie cried, slapping her forehead with her palm. “I completely forgot about music!”
“Looks like someone else thought of it,” John observed. “I’ll bet that’s Marc playing.”
The melody, skillfully played, filled the air. “Must be,” Maggie agreed. “I don’t know anyone else who plays like he does.”
As they made their way to the conservatory, they heard the first, tentative voices take up the chorus. By the time they entered the room, a large group surrounded Marc at the piano. Clearly delighted, he stood at the end of the tune and waved his arm for silence.
“Let’s have an old-fashioned Christmas carol sing-along. What do you say?” he asked.
The crowd whistled and clapped.
Maggie leaned close to John. “Never in a million years did I think this would happen. I’ll tell you what; this house is magic. It has such an effect on people.”
“It’s not the house, darling. It’s you who’re magic,” he replied, but his words were drowned out by a rousing chorus of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing.”
Maggie squeezed his arm and joined in the singing.
***
Frank Haynes could hear the strains of Christmas carols up in the attic. Perfect, he thought. If everyone were in the conservatory singing, no one would notice his absence. He continued to weed through boxes, but he couldn’t find the file he sought. In fact, it looked like someone had been working in the attic, rearranging and tidying things. Damn it, he thought. Did Maggie discover the file and destroy it? Or was it still here, lurking somewhere out of his reach?
Haynes cursed again when he noticed that the singing had stopped. He’d better get back downstairs before anyone missed him. One thing was certain, he thought as he headed down the steps, he would return to the attic somehow, and he would find that file.
***
Afternoon tea was still going strong at five thirty. Maggie was thrilled that everyone was having such a good time, but anxious to start cleaning up. She had a full schedule at Town Hall the following day. Sam Torres had been watching her carefully and now drew her aside.
“I think it’s time we broke this party up, don’t you?”
Maggie sighed. “I can’t just yell ‘Time’s up! Get out!’”
“Leave it to me,” he stated confidently. He circled behind Marc at the piano and whispered something in his ear. Marc concluded “O Come, All Ye Faithful” with a flourish and lowered the lid on the keyboard. He ignored the cries of protest from the crowd and turned to acknowledge a smattering of applause.
Sam Torres clapped his hands above his head. “Everybody, grab your coats and follow me. The outside lights are set to come on shortly. You won’t want to miss them.”
An excited murmur rippled through the crowd as people hurried to retrieve their coats and congregate outside. The wind bore an icy bite. A few drifted away to their cars, but most remained, stamping their feet and rubbing their hands to stay warm. Maggie and John stood at the bottom of the steps and waited.
At precisely five forty-five, Rosemont’s façade jumped into brilliant relief against the night sky. The crowd gasped and John and Sam exchanged proud nods.
Before Maggie could utter a word of thanks to the crowd, Sam jumped in front of her, tugging Joan along with him. He took Maggie’s hand and pumped it, saying in a voice too loud for the distance that was between them, “Thank you so much for having us, Mayor. We had a wonderful time, but we must be going now.”
“So that’s your game, is it?” Maggie uttered softly, gazing over his shoulder. “Get everybody out of the house and then start the procession to their cars? Brilliant. And it looks like it’s working. Thank you.”
“I hate to leave you with all the cleanup,” Joan said. “Maybe we should come back in half an hour.”
Maggie laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You helped me set up. You go on home now,” she ordered, giving Joan a hug.
“Come on now, honey,” Sam said, pulling Joan aside. “Other people want to say their goodbyes.”
By six fifteen, Maggie and John had waved goodbye to the final guest. Arm-in-arm, they climbed the stone steps and crossed the threshold to the sight every hostess hates—the aftermath of a party.
Maggie slumped into the nearest chair. “Right now, I want to slap myself silly. Why did I do this?”
John grinned. “Buck up; it’s not that bad. And you’ve got me to help. You just ne
ed to get your second wind.”
Maggie nodded unenthusiastically.
“Tell you what. Why don’t I go pick up Eve and Roman, plus a pizza, and bring them back here? Go soak in the tub while I’m gone, and we’ll make short work of this after we eat.”
Maggie opened her mouth to protest, but John was already pulling her to her feet and turning her toward the stairs. “Don’t waste time arguing with me. Just do it,” he said with a familiar smile.
***
Maggie was still relaxing in the tub an hour later when Eve bounded up the stairs and into the bathroom in search of her master. Maggie quickly snatched her towel and stepped out of the tub, fearing that Eve would launch herself into it at any moment.
“You silly girl,” she cooed, rubbing her ears. “You were only gone for one afternoon. And you love your friend Roman.”
She turned as she heard John’s tread on the stairs.
“You decent?” he called.
“Not yet,” she replied
“Good. Then I’m right on time.”
“I don’t think so, Mr.,” she hollered through the door. “Take yourself back downstairs, and I’ll be there shortly. I barely ate at my own party, and I’m starved.”
Maggie and Eve bounded down the stairs ten minutes later, Maggie snug in her favorite flannel pajamas.
John burst out laughing.
“Don’t start with me,” Maggie warned. “I love these pj’s. I live in these pj’s from November through May. Just accept it.”
John nodded. “As long as I can get you out of them from time to time.
Maggie shot him a sideways glance. “Let’s eat,” she said, flipping open the lid to the pizza box. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
John had been right—the bath and the food restored her energy. By ten o’clock, all the dishes had been stacked in the kitchen, waiting to be run through the dishwasher; the dirty linens were in the washer; and John had moved most of the furniture back to its original position.
Maggie threw her arms around John’s back and hugged him. “Let’s call it quits for tonight. I can finish up during the evenings this week.”
Weaving the Strands Page 23