Blame It On The Mistletoe - A Novel of Bright's Pond

by Joyce Magnin

  "Boy, I haven't seen Stella in a while," I said. "How's she doing?"

  "She's doing good, Griselda. She's been spending time with her brother. He's taking us to Bermuda this Christmas."

  "Didn't you just go there for Thanksgiving?"

  Nate nodded. "Yep, but we want to go back. It's fabulous. I might just move there some day."

  Dot and I shared a knowing glance. That ended the possibility of Agnes getting forklifted into town. Nate was the only person in town who owned a forklift.

  "And just so you know, Griselda," Nate said. "Stella and I brought the scenery out to Paradise for that woman to paint."

  "Thank you, Nate," I said. "That's great."

  "Honey," Zeb said. "Hold up your hand and show everyone."

  "Oh, the ring. Yes, isn't it pretty?" I let everyone get a look at my diamond.

  "It's very nice," Stu said. "A little small but . . . nice."

  "Been in the family for generations."

  "Congratulations," Boris said. "When's the big day?"

  "Christmas Eve," Zeb said. "At the chapel."

  Dot elbowed me. "You better say something," she whispered.

  "Later," I said.

  Fortunately Mildred came in. "Sorry I'm late, everyone. But I was out at Greenbrier interviewing the residents."

  "Did you learn anything," Boris asked. "Is it drugs?"

  Mildred grabbed one of the lose chairs and pulled it close to the meeting. "No. Not drugs. Not exactly."

  "Now what in jumpin' blue heck does that mean?" Boris asked. "We have to get this mystery solved."

  "OK, OK," Mildred reached into her jacket pocket. "I found five or six of these in Haddie Grace's room." She placed a bottle on the table.

  "What is it?" Boris asked. "A bottle?"

  "Oh, it's more than a bottle. It's the Fountain of Youth."

  "What?" Nate said.

  "I don't understand, Mildred," Boris said.

  "It's simple. That kooky Leon Fontaine thinks he discovered the Fountain of Youth up in Paradise."

  Dot Handy cracked up. "That's hysterical."

  "Hysterical?" Boris said. "It's criminal. Is he selling the water to those poor people."

  "Nope," Mildred said. "He just gives it to them."

  "And they believe him?" Studebaker said.

  "Well, if you'd ever talked to Leon Fontaine you'd understand why," I said. "He fancies himself a kind of Don Quixote, defending the poor, doing good deeds. He thinks he's a kind of modern-day knight in shining armor."

  "Then he's crazy," Boris said.

  "Maybe," Mildred said. "He's certainly delusional. But I just don't know what to do with him."

  "Did you talk to Doctor Silver?" I asked.

  "Not yet. Going up there in the morning."

  Boris looked both pensive and aghast. His big round eyes became slits. "I don't know if this will satisfy the Moose. They're pretty clear on what they condone and what they don't."

  "It's water," Zeb said. "Plain, old-fashioned water."

  "Leon just convinced some of the people out there that it'll make them younger," I said. "And they believe him."

  "Power of suggestion," Dot said. "My, my, but it's powerful. I heard of cases where doctors gave sugar pills to people and cured them of their ills—all because the patient believed it."

  "Mind control?" Boris said. "You're talking about some kind of mind control. I don't know what's worse—drugs or mind control."

  "No, no," Mildred said. "Leon isn't doing anything but telling people that they can be younger if they drink his special water. They believe it and voila!"

  "Voila!" Stu said.

  "You should go see for yourself. It's quite a sight."

  "Trouble is," Mildred said. "I'm not sure what to do about it."

  "Arrest him on fraud charges," Boris said.

  "Oh, stop it Boris," I said. "The man is harmless. I say we let Doctor Silver decide. He's the medical director out there."

  "OK, OK. I'll inform the Moose Lodge of your findings, Mildred, and hopefully they'll agree to be in the parade. Silly little moose antlers and all."

  "So it's all settled then," I said. "We have our Mary, and the mystery of Greenbrier has been solved."

  "Floats are ready, scenery painted," Nate said. "Mary? You mean that Negro girl?"

  "Yes," I said.

  Nate took in the glares that were sent his way. "OK, OK. Just asking."

  "My goodness," Ruth said. "I don't remember a time when we were more prepared for a Christmas Festival."

  "It is in good shape this year."

  "And don't forget about the camel and sheep," Ruth said,

  "Hold on a second," Boris said. "Camel? Sheep?"

  "Yep, we're getting live animals for the pageant. Isn't that just so wonderful?" Ruth said. "And maybe they can march in the parade too."

  "We can't have live animals in the church," Stu said. "They'll . . . they'll mess all over the place."

  "Oh, don't be such a fussbudget, Stu," Ruth said. "They'll walk on, stand there while the children say their lines, and then walk off. Filby said his friends will take care of the whole thing."

  "Well, they better," Boris said. "And they better not bite any of the children. Our insurance doesn't cover camel bites."

  "Don't worry, none of the children will get hurt. In fact, they are really excited about it."

  Boris banged his gavel. "All right, all right. If there is no other business then I move that the meeting be adjourned and we meet at the Kincaid Farm next Saturday at 6:00 a.m. to kick off the Bright's Pond Christmas Parade."

  We all cheered. As much trouble as it was to carry off, the parade was the highlight of our year. I think the whole town came out for it and maybe even a few folks from Shoops. They had their own parade, but there was just something special about a Bright's Pond Christmas Parade. It brought cheer to all and ignited the Christmas spirit.

  Everyone got up to leave. Zeb grabbed my hand. "It's early yet. Want to go for a walk or sit by the fire at your place—soon to be our place?"

  "Sounds nice," I said.

  "Ah, you two are so cute together," Dot said.

  Zeb turned off the lights and pulled the café door closed. He locked it and checked the handle twice. "OK, let's go."

  "Zeb," I said. "We have to talk."

  "What now, Grizzy? Don't tell me you changed your mind again."

  "Not about us. But—and I know you're gonna get angry— but it's about Agnes."

  "Agnes. I knew she'd get in the middle again." We walked a few steps holding hands. "Maybe I'll explain after you get the fire going."

  A little while later the fire was blazing, and I made warm cider for Zeb and me.

  I kissed him and then I said, "There's no way we can get married in the chapel."

  "Ah, Griselda, I told you it was important to me to get married in church."

  "There's no way to get Agnes there. I can't get married without her."

  "Why? Don't you think she'd understand? You dedicated your whole life to her. It's her turn to give up something for you."

  "Zeb, I understand. But she's all the family I have. I keep thinking about what it would be like to know that I got married without my sister looking on, without her being there with me. I . . . I don't think I can live with that."

  "But what about what I want? I don't have any family, since my mother died. I guess it's the town, Bright's Pond is family, my customers, the regulars who I know more about than their doctors."

  "I understand that, too, but I know that if you think Agnes's presence comes between us a lot, well, I'm afraid what this absence could do."

  Zeb poked at the fire. "Then what do you suggest, the nursing home? I don't want to get married in a smelly old nursing home surrounded by sick people and—"

  "How about at the nursing home, but outside? In the gazebo."

  "That crazy monstrosity that loony Leon Fountain—"

  "Fontaine."

  "—built?"

  "Yep.
We can wheel Agnes out in her chair. She can sit right at the foot of the little steps. It could be so romantic. You and me and Pastor Speedwell in the gazebo with—say, who is your best man?"

  Zeb looked at me with a funny grin. "Oh, I hadn't even thought about it."

  "You need a best man."

  He poked at the embers and a giant spark jumped onto the hearth. He stamped the tiny molten pool with his boot. "Like I said, I never gave it a thought."

  "What about Studebaker?"

  "Stu? Maybe. I'd say Nate but he'll be in Bermuda."

  "Boris?"

  "For criminy's sake, no! He'd insist on wearing that ugly gray suit and that striped tie and probably want a cigar in his lapel.

  "There must be someone."

  "Do I really need a best man?"

  "Someone has to hold the rings."

  "OK, Grizzy, I guess it'll have to be Stu."

  "Stu it is. But you better tell him soon. Or I should say ask him soon."

  "We should have just eloped," Zeb said.

  "Oh, Zeb, no, I want a wedding. It will all work out. You'll see . . . I hope."

  "Could be pretty cold outside on Christmas Eve," Zeb said. "Not like we can wear overcoats on top of our wedding clothes."

  "That's doesn't matter. Our hearts will be warm."

  "Oh, Griselda, that's—"

  "A little much?"

  Zeb pulled me close and kissed me. "I wish we were already married."

  I sighed. "Me too. But soon."

  19

  The next morning arrived with rain and cold. It was the kind of rain that started as ice pellets and then turned to rain once it hit the ground. I could hear it pelting the windows and roof. Arthur never liked this kind of rain. I think the noise bothered him, and he stayed underfoot all morning. I tripped over him twice.

  "I'm going to hurt you if you don't watch out," I said. "Crazy, paranoid cat."

  After breakfast, I made my way to the town hall hoping to catch up with Mildred. She was planning on meeting with Doctor Silver. I kind of wanted to be in on the conversation. I walked because the roads looked a little slippery, and it could be worse by the time we finished at Greenbrier. Mildred could just drop me at home afterward.

  "Nasty weather," she said when I saw her in her office.

  "Yeah. I'm worried about the kids' rehearsal tonight. I hope Dot is able to still hold it. And I hope Mercy Lincoln comes out."

  "Oh, that's right. Well, they're calling for rain on and off all day and turning to ice. Not a great day to be on the roads. I might have to close the highway in and out of town later."

  "Oh, that won't matter so much. Most of the kids can walk."

  "Good." Mildred searched through papers on her desk. "So are you ready to go?"

  "Yep. I'm hoping the doctor decides to let it go. Maybe just tell Leon to stop coming around and then he can get the place back to normal."

  "I'm hoping he decides to pop Leon Fontaine in the loony bin."

  "Ah, that isn't nice. He's harmless."

  "For now, but one day . . . he could snap and shoot up the trailer park."

  "Nah, they got one wacky guy up there already. That's his job."

  "Oh, yeah, I remember. The old war vet who shoots trash cans and raccoons. Haven't heard much from him lately."

  She pulled her office door closed, and we headed for the car.

  Mildred drove a little slow, maybe a little too slow, all the way to the nursing home. "I'd much rather drive on snow than this stuff," she said. "I don't like not being able to feel the road under my tires."

  "I appreciate you going up here today."

  "Need answers, Griselda. The law doesn't take a holiday."

  That time I tried real hard not to roll my eyes but sometimes it was all a person could do.

  She pulled into the parking lot. It was pretty sparse that day. "Looks like some folks might have taken the day off."

  "It's the smart thing to do," I said.

  We saw Nurse Sally first.

  "Don't you ever leave this place?" I said half joking. "Doesn't your family miss you?"

  "No. I spent the night last night on account of the weather. I knew a lot of people would call in sick. Someone had to be here."

  "Is Doctor Silver here?" Mildred asked.

  "He called. He'll be in a little late. Maybe an hour."

  "Oh, geez," Mildred said looking around the place. "That's OK, mind if I interview some of the other residents?"

  "No, just be careful like before. We don't want blood pressure spikes and heart attacks on a day like this."

  "Let's start with Agnes," Mildred said.

  "Agnes? But she hasn't taken any of the magic water."

  "I know, but she might know something."

  We headed down the hall toward Agnes's room. I noticed Christmas cutouts taped to the walls—ornaments, Santas, trees, and candy canes. Some of them looked homemade and cut from construction paper with glitter and ribbons, while others were definitely store-bought.

  "She would have told me if she knew anything," I said.

  "Yeah, but still, let's go visit. Sometimes a trained interrogator can ask just the right question to jar a person's memory."

  Agnes was still in her bed. The home was short on aides so there was a good chance she could stay in bed all day. When I saw her lying there I imagined Ruth trying to wrap enough pink satin around her to make a suitable bridesmaid dress. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

  "Morning, Agnes," I said. "Look who's here."

  "Mildred Blessing," Agnes said. "How are you?"

  Mildred removed her cop hat and walked over to Agnes's bedside. "Hi, Agnes. It's good to see you. You're looking chipper, and I think maybe a little skinnier?" She put a question mark on the end of the sentence.

  "Yeah, they say I'm losing but I can't tell. I still have enough blubber to keep Anchorage in lights for a year or more."

  "Now, Agnes," I said. "What did we decide about you putting yourself down?"

  "Oh, I've just been feeling upset since our last talk. You know about the wedding and the dress and all."

  I helped her with a sip of water. "I have good news about that," I said. "We're going to get married right here at Greenbrier. Out in the gazebo."

  "No kidding, really? Zeb agreed to that?"

  "Sure did. I figure we'll wheel you out and you can sit in your chair while Pastor Speedwell does the deed."

  "Does the deed," Mildred said. "You make it sound like an execution."

  "Oh, stop," Agnes said. "It sounds lovely. When?"

  "Christmas Eve."

  "Christmas Eve? Wow. But what if it snows?"

  "No matter, we'll still do it."

  "But what about a dress?" Agnes asked.

  "Ruth Knickerbocker is working on it."

  "She's sewing me a dress?" Agnes said. I thought I saw a spark of interest. She pulled herself up on the trapeze bar. "That's so sweet of her."

  "Yep." I knew I was rushing the truth, but I also knew that when the chips were down Ruth was the woman you wanted in your corner.

  "Agnes," Mildred said, "mind if I change the subject?"

  "Course not. What's on your mind?"

  "It's about Leon Fontaine and the way people are acting."

  "Oh, I suppose you want to talk about that supposed Fountain of Youth water."

  "You heard about it?" I said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "It was just the other day, and you haven't been here for me to tell. Haddie Grace showed me one of Leon's bottles. Cute."

  "Do you know anyone else he might have given it to?" Mildred asked.

  Agnes smiled and her eyebrows rose. "Just look around. Plenty of people acting a little . . . peculiar."

  "Did he try to give you any?"

  "No. Not sure why. Maybe he was afraid of me. I could crush him, you know."

  Nurse Sally poked her head in the room. "Excuse me, but Chief Blessing, Doctor Silver has arrived a little earlier than he thought. I told him you wan
ted to speak to him."

  "Oh, oh, thank you," Mildred said. "Now look, Agnes, you just keep getting skinny and don't worry about Leon Fontaine. I'll get the little con artist on some charge."

  "I ain't worried about him," Agnes said. "I'm just wondering why everyone is making such a big deal about it."

  "People could get hurt," Mildred said.

  I kissed Agnes's cheek. "I'll be back before we leave." I looked out the window. "And from the looks of that sky and the sleet falling it better be soon."

  Doctor Silver was tall, young, and handsome with Al Pacino hair. He wore his white doctor coat with two pens sticking out of the top pocket. His name, Dr. Richard Silver, was embroidered under the pocket in blue thread.

  Mildred spoke first. "Good morning, Doctor Silver, Chief Mildred Blessing, Bright's Pond Chief of Police, I was hoping you could shed some light on what is going on around here."

  He looked up from his desk work. "Morning. I wish I could. All I know is what you know, and I also wish someone would put an end to it and soon. These people should not be carrying on the way they are."

  "Then you know about Leon Fontaine?"

  He nodded. "I do. And I told Haddie and Clive and the others, especially Jasper York, to stop taking his water. They call it the Elixir—did you know that? The Elixir of Youth."

  "Can't you force them to stop?"

  "It's water." Doctor Silver stood up and walked to a small table that held a coffee carafe. "Oh, please, let Sally have filled this thing this morning."

  "Are you OK?" I asked.

  Doctor Silver poured the carafe. "Ah, hot coffee. Yes, I'm fine. A bit busy." He returned to his desk. "I think you'll need to ban Leon Fontaine from coming around here," Doctor Silver said. "Slap some kind of restraining order on him."

  "Will you swear that he's a detriment and harming people?"

  The doctor nodded his head as he sipped coffee from a green mug. "Yep. Just give me the papers."

  That was when we heard Haddie whiz past the office. "She is going to kill herself," Doctor Silver said. "That woman's bones are as brittle as tree bark. One good crash and—SNAP!"

  I shuddered.