Christmas at the Hummingbird House (14 page)

Someone cried, “Oh, look!  There’s one!”  And they turned to watch the shooting star.

Carl Bartlett came up behind his wife and placed a hand on her shoulder.  She lifted her own hand and entwined her fingers through his, nodding toward where their two daughters still sat at Mrs. Hildebrand’s table listening to her talk with rapt expressions on their faces.  “Darling, hold me,” she murmured.  “I think I’m about to fall into a parallel universe.  Those two are actually having a
conversation.
  With an
adult
.”

He smiled.  “The only stars those girls are interested in are the ones Mrs. Hildebrand knows.”

“I’m serious.  You may have ruptured the time-space continuum.  They seem to be on the verge of discovering that there are other people in the world besides themselves.” She finished off her glass. “I need more champagne.”

Carl handed her his glass. She leaned back against him and sipped contentedly. Another meteor shot across the sky and a spattering of applause broke out.

Carl said softly, “I love you.”

She smiled up at him. “I know.”

“It’s just that …”  He hesitated.  “I might not get another chance to tell you that.”  He saw the flicker of alarm in her eyes and corrected himself quickly.  “A better chance, I mean, with the stars and all … and in all the confusion of Christmas I just wanted you to know that I love you, and the girls, and that it has nothing to do with diamonds and emeralds.”

She looked slightly puzzled.  “You’re acting awfully strange tonight, honey. Are you sure everything is okay?”

He closed his eyes and kissed her hair, and there was a moment when he almost told her everything, right then, right there.  But it was just a moment.

He smiled, and told her, “Everything is perfect.”

He did not notice that when his wife turned away to watch the next burst of shooting stars, she looked far from convinced.

A few feet away Angela and Bryce Phipps stood with their backs to the crackling fire, cradling champagne glasses in their hands, watching as the streaks of light moved faster and faster across the sky.  Bryce said quietly, “There’s more for us out there, Angie.  More life, more love, more everything.  We’re both still young.  We can start over.”

She smiled and lifted her glass as another chorus of oohs and ahhs went up from the gathered watchers.  “I can never start over,” she said.  “There isn’t any more for me.”

Someone started singing “O Little Town of Bethlehem.”  Another voice joined in, and another. 
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep/the silent stars go by …

Bryce said, “When we get home, I’m filing for divorce.”

The hopes and fears of all the years/are met in thee tonight …

She said, with no change in her expression whatsoever, “Okay.”

She smiled fleetingly at someone who glanced her way, and he put an arm around her waist. They stood together on the top of the hill and watched in silence as the stars fell down.

~*~

December 23

Good morning! Just a reminder that for those last minute gifts for those at home, we do offer express shipping service.  Leave your properly addressed packages at the desk before 10:00 a.m. and the charges will be added to your bill at checkout.  Today is the last day we can guarantee Christmas delivery. Have you done the tour of local antique shops yet?  Ask for a list, or see us about arranging transportation. Have a wonderful day in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley!

Your hosts,

Paul and Derrick

6:00–10:00 a.m.
Coffee and pastries available in the dining room

8:30 a.m.
Country breakfast is served in the dining room

1:00 p.m.
A light buffet lunch will be available in the dining room

2:30 p.m.
Shuttle departs for the tour of the Ladybug Farm winery and cooking class at the Tasting Table

5:30
Shuttle returns to the Hummingbird House

6:00 p.m.
Cocktails served in the front parlor around the Christmas tree

7:30 p.m.
Dinner is served in the dining room with a selection of Ladybug Farm wines.  Dessert courtesy of Chef Bridget Tindale, your culinary instructor

9:00 p.m.
Vans depart for a tour of the spectacular holiday lights of nearby Evergreen Park

~*~

 
THIRTEEN

Change of Plans

“
W
ell, will you look at me?” Mick grinned as he admired himself in the cheval mirror that stood against the office wall, turning in profile and then back again.  “Wouldn’t recognize myself on the street, would you?”

That was perhaps a slight exaggeration.  Derrick’s old tuxedo, which was too small at the shoulders and too big at the waist—not to mention the trousers that were tucked into Mick’s motorcycle boots as a way of dealing with the fact that the cuffs landed about two inches above the ankles—made him look more like the ringmaster of a very strange circus than the respectable chauffeur Derrick had in mind. Derrick stepped back, eyeing his creation critically.

“I don’t know,” he said.  “Something’s not quite right.  Perhaps different headgear?”  He indicated the bandanna that was tied around Mick’s head above the long braid—blue, today, covered in white snowmen wearing green holly wreaths.

Paul came into the room, stopped a foot or so inside the door, and did a double take. Mick spun on his heel and swept a bow.  “What do you think, then?  Magnificent, eh?”

Paul replied, “Um.”

Mick turned back to the mirror and adjusted his bow tie. “I was a stranger and you took me in,” he said, grinning at them both in the reflection of the mirror.  “I was hungry and you fed me, I was naked and you clothed me … You, my brothers, are the genuine article, aren’t you?”

“Well,” said Paul, still staring at him with an expression of stunned disbelief.

Derrick met Paul’s gaze and returned a helpless shrug.

“Well then, I’d best go polish up the van if I’m going to be driving those fine ladies and gents to cooking class today, yes? And the perfect chance to show off my new togs!”  He slapped Paul on the shoulder in passing and was whistling “Jingle Bells” in perfect counterpoint to Manheim Steamroller’s “Carol of the Bells” that came through the wall speakers as he left the office.

Paul looked at Derrick and said simply, “Seriously?”

“I did the best I could,” replied Derrick defensively. He plucked the dressmaker’s pincushion off his wrist and tucked it, along with the tape measure he had draped around his neck, into his desk drawer.  “And I still think a change of headdress would make all the difference.  By the way,” he added, “thank you for returning the children’s video console.  I was going to package it up for today’s UPS pickup, but you’d already done it.”

Paul said, “I didn’t return it.  You know I leave that sort of thing to you.”

Derrick frowned, confused.  “How odd.  Do you suppose Purline …”

There was a tap on the door and Geoffery Windsor looked in. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”

“Mr. Windsor,” Paul greeted him warmly.  “How are you enjoying your stay?  Do you have everything you need?”

Geoffery came in the room and said, “Everything has been fine, just fine.  However, I wanted you to know I’ve decided to cut my stay short.”

“Oh, no.”  Derrick’s crestfallen expression was somewhere between anxiety and deep concern.  “Is everything all right?  There hasn’t been bad news, has there?”

“Is it something we’ve done?” offered Paul.  “Something we didn’t do?  Because believe me, our only desire is to make every guest at the Hummingbird House feel pampered and at home.”

Geoffery raised both hands in protest.  “No, no, believe me, my stay as been wonderful.  I have every intention of giving the Hummingbird House the highest recommendation to all my friends.”

Paul relaxed marginally, though he still seemed confused. “It’s just that no one has ever left the Hummingbird House early before.”

And Derrick added, “Won’t you reconsider?  The weekend package was part of your compensation for the reading yesterday, which as you know was a grand success, and I’ll feel just awful to think we’ve shorted you in any way.”

Geoffery smiled.  “You really are nice,” he said, “both of you.  And I appreciate your generosity, I do.  It’s just that it’s Christmas, you understand, and I’d like to be at home.  I can get a train from Charlottesville tomorrow afternoon that will have me home by dinnertime, so I was wondering if you could arrange transportation into town sometime in the morning.”

“Well, of course,” Paul said, still a bit uncertain.  “No problem at all.”

“In fact, the van is taking Christmas shoppers into Staunton in the morning,” Derrick added. “If you don’t mind a brief stop, our driver will happy to take you right to the station afterwards.”

“Thank you,” Geoffery said, “that sounds fine.” He turned to go.

“But,” insisted Derrick, “you’ll at least enjoy the rest of your stay with us, won’t you?  The winery tour is fascinating. and you’ll adore Bridget’s cooking class.  Even if you can’t boil an egg, she’ll make you feel like a pro.  And,” he added with a grin, “you get to eat the proceeds!”

Geoffery said, “I’m sure it’ll be lovely, but I prefer to stay here this afternoon and pack.”

Paul said, “We’ll be sorry to lose you, Mr. Windsor.  Please let us know if you change your mind.”

When he was gone, Derrick looked at Paul with a resigned quirk of his lips.  “Well,” he said.

“Indeed,” agreed Paul.  Then, frowning a little, “Did you hear what he called us?”

“Nice?”

“Exactly.”

Derrick frowned as well.  “I never thought of either one of us as nice, did you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Erudite, interesting, sophisticated …”

“Brilliant,” supplied Paul, “witty, charming, urbane …”

“Well spoken, compassionate, even generous,” added Derrick.

“But not nice,” Paul concluded, wrinkling his nose slightly in distaste.

“Definitely not,” agreed Derrick.

“At any rate,” Paul said, flinging himself onto the leather settee beside the window, “there’s more bad news.  The president has canceled his holiday trip to Camp David.”

Derrick lifted an eyebrow, obviously confused.  “I’m so sorry for him.  But we seem to have an open room at the Hummingbird House if he needs a place to stay.”

Paul deliberately ignored the witticism. “That means all leave in Noah’s unit has been canceled,” he explained.  “Apparently when the president is in town, the Marines are in town, or some such nonsense.  Even the senator can’t do anything about it.”

“Oh, no!” Derrick said, dismayed.  “I already told Noah our plans!”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now.  Not only does that mean Noah can’t have the weekend off, he won’t even have Christmas afternoon off like he’d planned.”

“Oh, poor Lindsay.”

Paul sighed.  “Well, maybe you can soften the blow for her.  You’re still going with the group to Ladybug Farm, right?”

“I am,” agreed Derrick unhappily.  “But I’m somehow not looking forward to it as much as I once was.”

Six hours later Derrick returned with a report that lived up to his expectations.

“Oh, the class was fine,” he said, “despite the fact that Bridget almost mixed up the sugar with the salt and preheated the oven to 530 degrees instead of 350.”

Paul raised an eyebrow.  “That doesn’t sound like Bridget.”

Derrick had found Paul in the workroom, snipping red and white carnations for the dinner table centerpieces.  Derrick began adding a sprig of evergreen to each of the silver bud vases on the work counter while Paul handed him either a red or a white carnation.  “She received bad news, I’m afraid,” Derrick explained.  “Her granddaughter has an ear infection and can’t fly, so of course that means no one can come for Christmas.  Literally, no one. The ladies will be all alone for Christmas.”

“Not all alone,” Paul objected.  “They’ll have us.”

Derrick said, “It’s not the same.”

Paul sighed.  “No, it’s not.”

“I just thank heavens for the free wine tasting before the cooking class.  The place was like a morgue, but all our guests were so lit no one noticed.  And the chocolate-peppermint tarts were sublime.  Even those awful teenagers managed to follow instructions long enough to create something edible.”  He placed the last carnation and then frowned.  “Aren’t we missing a vase?  Why are there only six centerpieces?”

Paul muffled a groan of frustration.  “Purline polished the vases today.  She must have misplaced one.  I don’t have time to look for it now.  We’ll just have to use one crystal vase.”

“We can’t have just one,” Derrick objected.  “We either have to do a complete mismatch, or none at all.”

Paul gave him a long look, then started plucking flowers and greenery out of the vases.  “Very well.  Four silver and three crystal.”

Derrick went to the cabinet to retrieve the crystal bud vases.  “The thing I feel so badly about is that I think Bridget might have gone to her daughter’s house in Chicago for Christmas if we hadn’t asked her to do the cooking class today,” he said.

“And Lindsay might have gone to California with Dominic if we hadn’t scheduled the winery tour for our group,” Paul agreed.

“Of course, that would have left Cici all alone,” said Derrick, lining up the vases on the counter again.

Paul put down the evergreen sprig he had been about to arrange, a slow speculative light beginning to grow in his eye. “Not,” he said, “if someone surprised her with a trip to Cabo to be with her daughter.”

Derrick looked at him, a delighted grin spreading over his face. “And if we could get Lindsay to California …”

“And Bridget to Chicago …”

“Now
that
’s the kind of Christmas money can’t buy!” declared Derrick, clapping his hands together in excitement.

“Actually,” Paul reminded him, “it’s going to cost a good deal of money.”

“But it’s for the girls!” Derrick said. “The sky’s the limit.”

“Precisely,” said Paul, taking out his phone.

“But it’s almost Christmas Eve,” Derrick worried.  “Is it even possible?”

“All things are possible to good men of good intention,” Paul sang out happily and raised his phone to his ear.  With his other hand he made busy typing motions. “Go!  Get on the computer, work your phone.  We have three flights to catch!”