Henry sat silent a moment, then sighed. “Not much consolation for trying to help someone, was it?”
“No, not so much. We miss him. And of course things changed after we lost him. Different focus, different choices. Maude hasn’t been able to bring herself to be here for Christmas since he died. Maude’s a lot like Joy. She made over the holidays, and Christmas was always her favorite. She lived to give our boy the best experience possible each year. But after . . .”
“I can understand that. There’s always that undeniable empty seat at the holiday table. Oh, somebody else may be sitting in it, but it’s still empty.” Henry paused and stared at the fire again. “Something plain wrong about burying a child. But then, as trite as the saying is, life goes on. Look at me—ninety-two years old and have spent many a Christmas in some mighty interesting places. This is just another one with this Unlikely Christmas Party on Wheels, as Lily calls us.”
Maude stood outside the doorway, not really eavesdropping, but not wanting to interrupt because she had no words.
I haven’t heard Silas talk about Elan and Christmas in ages.
She pondered that thought. Is it because of me? Because he doesn’t want to hurt me? She took a breath. And does it? Does it hurt to hear him speak of Elan?
She leaned against the wall, hands spread to either side of her, waiting for the pain that always attended thoughts of Elan, especially around the holidays. But although she felt the ache that never faded—that had never faded in all these years—she was surprised to find it didn’t overwhelm her as it had in the past. She closed her eyes and breathed, thinking of the colonel’s words. He’s right—the thought of the empty seat at the Christmas table is why I can’t bring myself to celebrate Christmas. To hear that explanation voiced was . . . freeing, in a way.
Seems we’re not the only ones feeling our loss during the holidays. But Henry doesn’t let it keep him from new experiences.
Maude wasn’t sure how that made her feel.
The road conditions made Gordy a few minutes late. Greg watched as Lily, in her new Mongolian lamb vest underneath her overcoat, fidgeted and paced back and forth in front of the windows by the piano. She searched for van lights and wondered aloud if it might have been better after all for Gordy to stay overnight at Grey Sage.
The guests welcomed Silas’s second urn of coffee while they waited. The colonel sat in his now-favorite wing chair by the fireplace. Ted and Laura meandered around the gathering room, entrance hall, and Silas’s study, admiring the paintings and sculptures. Emily and Kent sat on the sofa, unaware of anyone else in the room.
Seeing their son engage with Emily pleased Greg, and to make certain that conversation was not interrupted by Reba, Greg took her arm and led her away. “Come on, Reba. Let’s see if Lita will allow us into the kitchen. I’d like to know more about this prickly-pear syrup and where to get it. This morning may be my last chance. Sorry you didn’t get to taste it.”
Iris understood and gave her husband the old I-know-what-you’re-up-to smile as she followed him and Reba into the kitchen. Maude and Lita were sitting on the barstools at the counter going over a list. Lita saw them first.
Greg stepped into the doorway, stopped, and sheepishly asked, “I wasn’t told if there are any off-limit places in the inn. Are we allowed in the kitchen?”
Maude motioned for them to enter. “Come right on in. We’re going over lists for dinner plans. Could we get something for you?”
Iris walked through the kitchen into the keeping room. “Oh, I love this room, warm in every way. You even have a fireplace and a daybed built into that bay window. The colors—and so many places to relax and read right in here in this big open space.” She turned around to where Maude and Lita were seated on stools at the counter. “And look at this magnificent kitchen. All the cupboards and work spaces, and the sink underneath window. Oh, and all the windows. If I lived here, I’d never come out of this room except to sleep, and I might even decide to do that in the daybed.”
Maude smiled. “Well, you know what they say about the kitchen being the heart of the home,” she said. “And this one certainly is. We call this our keeping room.”
Reba gently spoke up. “Probably because it’s so comforting, it just keeps you here.”
“Well, something keeps us in here. The kitchen is not original to the house, but I designed it, and Alo built it. We upgraded a few years ago when Lita decided we should open Grey Sage as an inn.”
Maude was describing how to construct adobe walls to Iris and Reba, and Greg was taking notes of Lita’s suggestions for finding prickly-pear syrup in town, when the tinkling of a bell interrupted their conversations. Greg stashed his note card and pen into his shirt pocket. “Ladies, sounds like Lily is summoning us. Thank you for this information, Lita. Oh, and thank you for suggesting the use of the brass bell. I didn’t want Lily to get choked on that whistle.”
“Tell Lily I’ll be right there as soon as I get my boots on and grab my coat,” Maude requested.
Maude had traded in her dressy wool pants and cardigan for her silk long underwear and jeans and a fleece-lined suede vest over a red cashmere turtleneck—her regular attire for a winter day when Grey Sage had no guests. She grabbed her coat and met the others as Silas and Alo ushered them out to the waiting van. Lily was the last one. She was out the door and halfway to the van when she turned around to Silas.
“Oh, Silas, would you ask Lita or whoever tidies up our rooms to please be on the lookout for my whistle? I seemed to have misplaced it.”
Silas, hands in his pockets, nodded. “Of course, Lily. We’ll find it and keep it in a safe place just for you.”
He kissed Maude’s cheek just before she walked out the door behind Lily. “You stay warm out there, Maude. I’ll be right here to welcome you home. Don’t miss me too much.”
Maude waved before climbing into the van. She took the seat Lily had saved for her next to the window and removed her gloves and coat. The van was warm, almost too warm, and she cracked her window for a bit of air.
Everyone in their same seats again, she thought, looking around. Wish Emily was bold enough to leave her mother and take that empty seat next to Kent in the back. She noticed Lily digging through her purse. Lily doesn’t have her whistle. She’s always had a problem keeping up with things. Or maybe Lita did decide to hold on to it for safekeeping. She smirked. More like safekeeping Lily’s health if she continued to blow it.
Gordy was playing his favorite Boston Pops Christmas music. The volume of multiple conversations buzzed over an instrumental version of “Winter Wonderland.”
They were almost to town before Lily took the microphone. “People, people. We’re almost there. I hope you’ve had a chance to look at the maps and the information I gave you about the Railyard District. Fifty acres of pure interesting, and I’m not certain you’ll be able to cover it all in the three hours we have. So choose wisely, and you’re on your own for lunch. That is, if you need lunch after that marvelous breakfast. Maude’s agreed to say a few words about what you’ll see this morning.”
Lily whispered something to Gordy before she sat down.
Maude stood, faced the passengers, and took the microphone. “Yes, as Lily said, the Railyard District is almost fifty acres of urban space that has been carefully planned for your pleasure. About thirteen of those acres are open spaces for a park and walking trails and a plaza, but I’d suggest not trying to see that today because of weather. Skipping those areas may afford you time to see the cultural museum, more galleries, and the live-in artist studios where you can watch the artists work and even take classes from them. But don’t sign up for a class today. I don’t want you to miss the farmers market—one of the best in the country. Remember, it is winter, so I’m not certain how many vendors will be there, but some will be selling craft items, Christmas baked goods, and jarred goodies. All kinds of interesting and delicious things.”
Greg spoke up in his preacher voice. “I’m headed
straight there. Any of you want cactus-pear syrup and jelly? Just follow me.”
“Greg’s been talking to Lita, and I’m certain he will find what he’s looking for and more. Everything, and I do mean everything you buy at the market is grown or produced right here in Northern New Mexico. And the folks who grew it or made it will be the same ones selling it. Engage them in conversation. They love to talk about what they do.”
Beatrice interrupted. “Who wants to have a conversation with acres of farmers? I certainly do not.”
Maude graciously recovered. “Now, if you’re not into the market, you really could spend all your time out of the weather in the cultural museum. It’s a huge warehouse of things to experience and see. Oh, there’s also quite a nice candy shop. I can imagine you’d enjoy that, Beatrice.”
Beatrice clapped her hands and smiled.
“Lily and I will be wandering around. If you can find us, I’ll be happy to answer your questions.”
Maude motioned for Lily to stand up. Lily took the microphone, but before she could say anything, Beatrice announced. “If I can’t be found, look for me at the candy shop.” She turned to Henry. “I so hope you’re feeling strong and able enough to carry my shopping bags this morning.”
Henry smiled at her.
“Thank you for these bits of information, Beatrice. I’m certain we couldn’t lose you if we tried, but we’ll know where to look first,” Lily trilled.
Reba leaned forward. “If you don’t mind, Colonel, I think I’d like to walk around with you and Beatrice this morning. I’ve seen quite enough art, so that candy shop sounds like a perfect place, and I don’t want to miss it.”
The van slowed, signaling they were almost ready for the drop-off.
Ted adjusted the muffler around his neck. “Where and what time should we be back, Lily?”
“Gordy will pick us up at the same place he drops us off.” She turned to Gordy as she announced, “Be ready to load the van at one thirty sharp, people.”
Maude and Lily were the first off the van and stood at the door while the other guests passed. Ted and Laura took off in one direction with a map of the district in their gloved hands, headed most likely to the live-in studios. Greg folded his map and stuck it in his coat pocket, and he and Iris headed toward the farmers market. Emily and Reba had a quiet conversation before Reba left her daughter standing alone. Reba took the colonel’s arm that Bea hadn’t grasped, and off they went toward the shopping area.
Lily watched them all head off, then heaved a sigh and turned to Maude. “Shall we?”
“We shall,” Maude answered with a smile. Arm in arm, she and her best friend headed toward the galleries.
There was an awkward silence as Kent and Emily were the only ones left standing beside the van. Kent approached Emily. “I think my parents are tired of me. Your mother abandon you too?”
Emily, a puzzled look on her face, seemed somewhat stunned. “I think that’s what she did.”
“What do you say we walk down to the park just to take a look? Unless, there’s something else you prefer. We can catch up with the others later.”
Emily adjusted her gloves and stuck her hands in her pockets. “I think I’d really enjoy that.”
Beatrice surprised Henry. “Why don’t we go to the market first while we’re still warm?” She looked up at him. “I know I said I didn’t want to go, but I’d like to take a look. Not to worry about packages. I’m not buying zucchini and apples and red peppers. But after the tea shop, I can’t promise what you might have to carry.”
So the candy-loving trio followed several steps behind Greg and Iris.
Reba spoke to Beatrice. “I hope you two don’t mind that I joined you this morning.”
Beatrice didn’t answer, but Henry replied, “You just bring added pleasure, Reba.”
“I’m not sure what I bring anymore. I just needed to get away from Emily for a while.” She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder.
Henry chuckled. “You? You needed to get away from Emily?”
“Yes, she’s hovering. It seems our roles have reversed since her father died. I love her dearly, and I couldn’t be more grateful that she’s so caring, but I’m almost to the point of suffocation from all her attention.”
They came to a booth with baked goods. Beatrice stopped. “Oh, I’ve seen everything I care to see here. But I see a candy store. It’s over there across the way.”
Reba moved to Beatrice’s side. “Bea, you’ve found every candy shop between here and Chicago. It’s like you have candy radar or something.”
“Well, if you had danced half your life and had to deny yourself anything that would push your weight over ninety-five pounds, you’d be looking for candy too, my dear.”
It was comfortably warm inside the candy store, Henry decided. For once, his old bones weren’t chilled. He waited as Beatrice stood at the counter and sorted through the bags of candy already packaged by the pound and handed five bags to the shopkeeper. She continued sorting through the bags of spiced nuts. “Reba, what’s your favorite candy?”
“My favorite?” Reba eyed the chocolates. “I’d have to say I’m not quite the adventurous connoisseur you seem to be. My favorite would be just the plain old English toffee.”
“Add a pound of English toffee to my order, please,” Beatrice said to the young shopkeeper, who had obviously eaten too much chocolate. “No, make that two pounds. My daughter Dorothy loves toffee too.”
Reba responded quickly. “Oh, Beatrice, you don’t need to do that. I wasn’t asking for toffee.”
“I know you weren’t asking, but it is my peace offering as a gift to accompany my apology to you.”
“Your apology to me? For what?”
“For thinking that you’re a whiny, demanding mother and that you are holding on much too tightly to that beautiful young daughter of yours. I was wrong. So I apologize.” Beatrice gave her head a quick downward nod, noting the end of that conversation. “Besides, I like buying candy.”
Henry hid his smile at Reba’s bemused look.
The shopkeeper came to Bea’s assistance. “Let’s see, ma’am. You have two pounds of English toffee and a pound of Piñon Rolls with a center of fudge, dipped in caramel and rolled in piñon nuts. Good choice. And you have pound bags of the Chile Pistachio Bark, Red Chile Peanut Brittle, and the Rocky Road. I think you’ll like the marshmallows inside the Rocky Road. We make them here, and we add pecans that are grown nearby. All these are excellent, excellent choices, ma’am.”
Beatrice tapped on the glass. “And pray tell, what are those?”
The shopkeeper removed the tray and offered her one. “We call them Piñon Tortugas. Tortuga is Spanish for ‘turtle.’ Caramel and pecans dipped in milk chocolate.”
“Well, why didn’t you just call them turtles? Then I would have known.” Beatrice devoured it in thirty seconds. “Good. I like it. Give me a pound, please.”
The shopkeeper knew she had a live one. “But ma’am, you’re missing something very special, especially at Christmas.” She took another sample from behind the glass. “These are our famous Bolitas—our best chocolate fudge shaped in balls, dipped in dark chocolate, and rolled in ground almonds and powdered cocoa. Can’t get much more chocolate than that.” She handed the Bolita to Beatrice on a sheet of wax paper.
Beatrice took it, eyed it, and put the whole thing in her mouth. Seconds later: “The best yet.”
“And even better, ma’am, we have a legend around here that the Bolitas will bring you great happiness.”
“That’s what Christmas is supposed to be—a whole lot of happy. And I’m going to buy everybody some happy.” Beatrice looked around for Henry. He and Reba stood at the window watching the whole scene. “Henry, how many are in our Unlikely Christmas Party?”
Henry, amazed at the twists and turns in the gears of Bea’s mind, studied for a moment. “Ten, including Lily.”
“Young lady, I’d like ten pounds of those things that ‘
bring you happy,’ but I’d like them in one-pound bags and tied with a Christmas ribbon, please.”
She paused, thought a moment, then gasped. But the shopkeeper had disappeared to the back. She spun around on one foot. “But Henry, what about Maude?”
“What about her?”
Beatrice grew impatient. “How many live with Maude at Grey Sage?”
“Just Silas and Lita and Alo. So that makes four.”
Beatrice tapped the bell on top of the counter. “I don’t know your name, but I know you’re back there somewhere and you have chocolate on your apron. I need four more pounds of happy, please.”
Henry sensed that Beatrice was up to something that she might regret later. He approached her. “Bea, what are you doing?”
“It’s Christmas, Henry. I’m buying everyone candy to make them happy.”
“Ah. Of course.” Sardonically, he added, “Well, by all means, don’t forget Gordy.”
“Oh, that’s right. But he’s such a sourpuss, and I really don’t care for him very much.” She pondered. “All the more reason to buy him candy.” She tapped the bell. “One more bag of that happy candy, please, and that will be all.”
A few minutes later, the shopkeeper returned with three giant shopping bags filled with one-pound bags of candy. “That’ll be three-hundred seventy-four dollars and twenty cents.”
Reba joined her. “Really, Beatrice? That’s a lot of money for candy.”
“Well, I had three husbands, and two of them were rich, so I have a lot of money, and what else can you do with money? I like candy. And besides I’m buying more than candy. I’m buying happy.”
Henry stepped in again. “Beatrice, that’s almost twenty-five pounds of candy. I can’t carry that all day.”
The shopkeeper interjected quickly before someone came to her senses. “Oh, we’ll be most happy to keep it right here for you, and you can pick it up later. I’ll put your name on it right now and put it in the back. I can even put those bags in lovely gift boxes.”
Christmas at Grey Sage Page 7