“Why don’t you see if Afton would like to come to our house instead?” Maddy suggested. “I’ll pick up a pizza on my way home.”
“I guess,” Jordan said. Obviously a night at home couldn’t measure up to an evening with Afton and Fab-o-Mom.
“I’ll get makings for root beer floats, too,” Maddy said.
“Okay.” There wasn’t much increase in enthusiasm. It was more a case of Jordan realizing this was the best deal she was going to get.
“I’ll be home by six. Have her come over then.”
Jordan gave her another resigned, “Okay,” and ended the call.
All right, pizza and root beer floats. What else could she do to make her house the place to be? Maybe she’d rent the latest Pixar movie for the girls. Or get out a board game so they could all do something interactive. WWAMD? What would Afton’s mom do? Board game, of course. Fine, they’d play Clue.
She left the shop later than she’d intended. Hildy Johnson came in looking for lavender just as Maddy was ready to turn the sign on the door to Closed. “I’m going to make sachets for everyone for Christmas,” she said, and then proceeded to go into great detail about what she was serving for dinner, who was coming, who couldn’t and why. She continued talking long after the lavender buds had been measured out and payment made. And the wall clock kept ticking. Five minutes past closing time, ten minutes past closing time. Fifteen.
Finally Maddy started moving the conversation toward The End. “Hildy, it sounds like a lovely celebration...”
As if sensing a premature end, Hildy broke in. “Well, you know, last year was a disaster, because of that awful woman Kevin brought home. But they’re not together anymore, thank God. This year is going to be perfect.”
Was she reading Muriel’s book, too? Maddy didn’t dare ask. That would give Hildy even more to talk about.
“We’re pulling out all the stops.”
“I’d love to hear more, but I’ve really got to close. My daughter has a friend coming over tonight and I promised I’d bring home pizza.”
“I hope you already called in your order. Otherwise, you’re going to have quite the wait.”
“Well, I’d hoped to beat the rush,” Maddy said, and hurried to the back room to get her coat and purse. “I guess I’ll have to call it in on my way.”
“You’d better not let Dot’s daughter catch you talking on your cell phone and driving,” Hildy warned her. “That young woman is as tough as they come. She actually gave me a ticket the other day. No warning, no nothing. As if I haven’t known her since she was in diapers.”
Hildy continued talking even though Maddy was now out of range. Maddy could hear her droning on as she called Italian Alps and ordered a large pepperoni, Jordan and Alan’s favorite. When she came out of the back room, Hildy was still talking. “But motherhood isn’t easy, as I’m sure you’re finding out.”
How they’d gone from pizza and traffic tickets to motherhood, Maddy had no idea, but she nodded politely and started moving Hildy toward the door. Once outside she said, “It’s been great catching up with you but I have to run. Good luck with your sachets.”
“Oh, I know they’ll be a hit,” Hildy said confidently. “It’s always nice to get something homemade.”
“Yes, it is,” Maddy said as she walked off. Hildy was still talking and she hated to be rude but she had candy canes and a pizza to pick up, and Afton would be arriving at the house any minute.
Safeway was packed as townspeople and tourists alike stocked up on eggnog, weekend snacks and dinner makings. Every checkout line stretched to the end of the world. At this rate she’d never get home.
She called Alan. “Can you close up early?”
“Babe, I’ve got some customers in here right now, so no, not really. What’s wrong?”
“I’m stuck in line at the grocery store and I still have to pick up pizza for tonight. Jordan’s friend Afton is coming over.”
“Well, they’ll be fine on their own for a few minutes,” Alan said. “I’ll be home a little after seven.”
Yes, the girls would be fine. They didn’t need her there, hovering. Still, she called her daughter to let her know she was on her way.
“Have you got the pizza?”
“Not yet. I’m waiting to pay for the candy canes.”
“Mom, we’re hungry.”
“I know. I’ll be home soon.”
“Right.” Her daughter’s voice was sullen.
“That’s enough of that, young lady. You’re not going to starve to death in the next half hour.”
“You’ll be longer than that. You still gotta drop off those stupid candy canes and you’ll end up talking.”
“No, I won’t. Meanwhile, you girls go ahead and find something to snack on. But don’t eat too much. You don’t want to ruin your appetite.”
“Okay.”
“Bye. Love you,” she added, but Jordan had already ended the call.
She finally got home to find the girls texting on their cell phones and giggling, having obviously survived pizza deprivation. Afton wasn’t nearly as pretty as Jordan—she had a long nose and narrow eyes—but she was sweet and polite, a good friend and, hopefully, a good influence. Maybe she could influence Jordan to abandon her crush on the unsuitable Logan.
Or not. As it turned out, that was who both girls were texting with. Logan, it appeared, was spending the night with a friend only a couple of blocks away. “Can they come over?” Jordan asked.
The last thing Maddy wanted was little Mr. Unsuitable hanging around. “Let’s keep it just girls tonight,” she said lightly, which earned her a scowl from her daughter and a “Why?”
Because this boy sounds like a loser. “Another time,” she said, not wanting to have this particular discussion in front of company.
Jordan’s scowl worsened and Afton gave her a sympathetic look.
Maddy pretended not to notice. “So, who’s ready for pizza and root beer floats?”
The pizza and root beer floats were a big hit. Playing a board game not so much. The girls vanished into Jordan’s room, where they streamed a movie on her iPad and continued texting and giggling, leaving Maddy out of the equation.
“You’ve still got me,” Alan said, giving her a hug once they’d settled in the family room.
Maddy shook her head. “I thought we could have some fun together.”
“I think those days are gone, at least for a while. They don’t want to hang out with grown-ups.”
“They hang out with Afton’s mom.” Why was that? And what was Maddy doing wrong?
“Not as much as it sounds like, I’m betting.”
“I don’t know. She goes skating with them.”
“Just because she’s on the rink doesn’t mean she’s part of the tribe.”
“She makes taffy with them.”
“Probably supervises. Once it’s made you can be sure they’re up in Afton’s room. Come on, you remember what it was like. You didn’t want to hang out with your mom when you were that age.”
“I guess you’re right,” she said.
“Forget about it. Let’s watch a movie.”
“Okay. But first, let me take some cookies up to them.”
“What, they don’t know where the kitchen is?” He shook his head. “Bribery never works.”
“Sure, it does,” she said with a grin.
She loaded a plate with some of the goodies she and Jordan had made earlier in the week and went upstairs. She knocked on her daughter’s door, then opened it, poking her head inside.
Both girls gave a guilty start and Jordan’s face turned as red as a Christmas stocking.
What had they been talking about? Her? If so, it hadn’t been anything good.
“I thought you’d like some
Christmas cookies,” Maddy said, ignoring her daughter’s guilty flush.
“Thanks, Mrs. Donaldson,” said Afton, whose face was also a little red.
Maddy resisted the temptation to linger outside the door and eavesdrop. Ignorance wasn’t bliss, but it beat overhearing whatever complaints were being shared inside the teen confessional.
She’d just come back into the family room when her cell phone rang. Alan groaned. “Don’t answer it.”
“It might be an emergency,” she said, picking it up.
“What, someone’s out of candy canes?”
“Very funny,” she said, and answered.
It was Carla Welky, who was on candy-cane duty. “I think I just saw those kids.”
Good. “Call the police.”
“They’re not doing anything. They’re just cruising down the street with the music turned up.”
“Well, get the license-plate number, anyway,” Maddy said. She parted the drapes and peered out the window. She could see several cars, but not the black SUV she’d encountered the other night.
“Okay. Oh, wait. There they go. They’re speeding!”
“Did you get the license-plate number?”
“No, just the WA.”
That narrowed it down. “I’m gonna follow them,” Maddy said decisively. “Come on, Alan, get your coat.”
Alan looked at her as if she was nuts. “What?”
“Don’t bother,” Carla told her. “They already turned the corner. You’d never find them.”
Maddy accepted defeat with a frown. “Call me if they come back.”
“Will do.”
“And who were we going to follow?” Alan asked as Maddy set down her phone and flopped on the couch.
“Those rotten kids were back.”
“Did they wreck anything?”
“No,” Maddy said irritably. “Not yet.”
“Well, then, it wouldn’t have accomplished anything to follow them,” Alan said. “Anyway, you need to let the police handle it.”
“They haven’t been handling it, and those brats are back.”
“They were probably just out joyriding.”
“Or scoping out the neighborhood.”
“Yeah, next thing you know they’ll be stealing mechanical reindeer and selling them over in Wenatchee. Are we going to watch this movie or not?”
Maddy sighed. “Yes. I need a laugh.”
“Come on.” Alan kissed her on the cheek. “Life’s not that bad.”
Easy for him to say. Their daughter wasn’t complaining about him behind his back.
Still, there was nothing she could do about the mystery juvenile delinquents. Jordan was going through a bratty phase but she’d come out of it. Everything would be fine.
The rest of the night went smoothly. The girls giggled and carried on until eleven-thirty and then settled down. Maddy let them have their fun, not wanting to provoke another display of brattiness from her daughter. But tomorrow, when she and Jordan went shopping, they’d have a little talk about her attitude.
Hmm. In the middle of mother-daughter bonding? Maybe not. A more opportune time was bound to present itself. With that resolved, she drifted off.
At one point something woke her up. She lay in bed, listening. Somewhere a dog barked. A car crunched down the street in the snow. And then all was quiet again and she fell back to sleep.
The next morning she woke to sunlight filtering in through the bedroom blinds. A sunny day—that was a good omen. She didn’t have to be at the shop until ten, which meant she could make the girls breakfast before Afton’s mom came to pick her up. At noon she’d take Jordan out for hamburgers and then to Gilded Lily’s. She fired up the Keurig, then went to the living room and opened the drapes to the view of Candy Cane Lane.
And of broken candy canes lying every which way along her front walk.
Chapter Eleven
One of the best gifts you can give anyone is a second chance.
—Muriel Sterling, Making the Holidays Bright: How to Have a Perfect Christmas
Tilda was still in bed when her doorbell began ringing. That was followed by knocking. Followed by more doorbell ringing. What the heck? Had Icicle Falls been invaded by aliens? There’d better have been at least an avalanche for somebody to be bugging her on her day off.
She stumbled out of bed and drew on some jeans and a T-shirt over her red Victoria’s Secret baby-doll nightie and shoved her feet into her fuzzy zombie slippers. “Coming!”
The banging kept on with 9-1-1 urgency.
“I’m coming already,” she snarled. She opened the door to find Maddy Donaldson on her porch looking like a one-woman lynch party.
“It’s happened again!” Maddy pointed a shaking finger in the direction of her house. Tilda ran a hand through her hair. A sexy fireman had been carrying her from a burning building and telling her how much he liked her nightgown, and she’d been dragged away from that for this? “Did you call the station?”
If Maddy got any angrier, her head was going to spin off her neck and take off for parts unknown. “You’re the officer of record. Do something!”
Tilda rubbed her face, wishing she could scrub away the vision of Maddy in all her pink glory, having a fit on her porch. “I’m not on duty today, Mrs. Donaldson. I think you should call the station.”
“And I think you should do something. For heaven’s sake, this is your neighborhood. Don’t you care what happens? Do you want to see irresponsible little vandals get away with this?”
“Of course not, but you really need to...”
“Good. Now what are you planning to do about this?”
Nothing. But she wasn’t going to tell Maddy that. “We can have a patrol car drive by tonight and keep an eye on things.”
“Was anyone doing that last night?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t on duty last night.”
“Well, when are you on duty?”
“Not today,” Tilda said. “But I’ll be happy to put in a call and make sure someone swings by tonight. Did you see anything last night?”
“Yes. Well, no, not me. Carla Welky saw that black SUV again. I’m positive it was the same kids.”
“Did she get the number of the license plate?”
Maddy frowned. “No.”
“That would’ve been helpful.”
“I know that,” Maddy said through gritted teeth. “We obviously need professional help.”
You could say that again.
“Are you going to interview the neighbors?” Maddy demanded.
“Not at this time.”
“Well, then when?”
“When someone reports damage to their property,” Tilda said. She needed coffee.
Maddy thumped her chest. “I just reported damage to my property.”
“And I’m talking to you right now,” Tilda said, using her most diplomatic voice, even though she wanted to throttle the woman. “But I’m afraid that since you didn’t see anything and you don’t have a license-plate number, there’s not much I can do.”
“You can check out the scene of the crime, which I might add is growing,” she said, pointing to a lawn where two mechanical reindeer had been spray painted and were now on their sides, taking a nap in the snow.
Tilda sighed inwardly. “Let me get my coat.” What she really wanted to get was some coffee, but she knew Maddy was in no mood to wait while she took care of her caffeine needs.
Boots and coat on, she walked down the street with her new neighbor, Maddy sputtering all the way. “I don’t know what this world is coming to when people go around damaging Christmas decorations. It’s...un-American.”
“It is sad,” Tilda agreed. Considering how much the darned things cost, she’d
be pissed, too, if hers had been ruined. Especially Mr. T.
They got to the Donaldsons’ house and Maddy pointed at her neighbors’ home on the other side. Like Maddy’s, their candy canes had been stomped to death. “Look, they got the Werners this time. Maybe one of them saw something.”
“I’ll ask,” Tilda said. “Meanwhile, why don’t you go inside?”
Maddy’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
Yes. “If you think of anything else, be sure to call the station,” Tilda said.
Maddy got the hint and marched back inside her house.
Tilda stood for a moment, looking at the carnage along the Donaldsons’ front walk. As before, each candy cane had not only been tipped over but crushed. Somebody sure hated candy canes. She walked next door to the Werners’ place. Only two of theirs had been ruined. The vandals must’ve been interrupted or scared off halfway through their fun. Tilda shook her head. No concept of what property rights were all about. She hoped she did catch them. But Icicle Falls had a small police force and the odds of getting the sneaky little monsters were pretty slim.
Mr. Werner answered his door after several knocks. He scowled at Tilda. “Whatever you’re collecting for, we already gave.”
He started to shut the door and Tilda put up a hand. “I’m Tilda Morrison with the Icicle Falls Police Force. I was here earlier in the week with my partner.”
“Oh. Well, we’re not donating to the policemen’s ball, either.”
“Sir. I’m here about your candy canes.”
“What about ’em?” he asked. Then he looked past Tilda and his eyes got as big as oversize Christmas balls. “What on earth?”
“There was more vandalism last night,” Tilda explained.
“Well, why didn’t you do something about it?” Did these people think she wore a red cape under her uniform?
“Did you or your wife see anyone wandering around the neighborhood who didn’t seem to belong here?”
“This street is full of people who don’t belong every night. Carloads of ’em.”
“Maybe someone on foot? Some teenagers, perhaps?”
He frowned and scratched his head. “No, no. The missus and I are back in the TV room by seven, watching Jeopardy!”
Christmas on Candy Cane Lane Page 16