Home for the Holidays (25 page)

“I’m fine, dear, except for hearing on the radio that church services have been canceled.” Her aunt sounded anything but fine. “Are you girls all right?”

“We have a full house.” Jane told her about the tour group becoming stranded at the inn. “Have you heard from Lloyd? Alice told me he had come down with the flu.”

“He went to see the doctor over in Potterston yesterday and decided to stay overnight with that fishing buddy of his,” Ethel told her. “I expect he’s stuck there now, and him sicker than a dog.”

That explained her aunt’s sounding depressed: Jane knew Ethel had had her heart set on spending the holidays with her beau.

Is anyone going to have a happy Christmas?

“Why don’t you come up to the house when the storm dies down?” she asked her aunt. “We could use another happy face around here. They’re in short supply.”

“A face I can bring,” her aunt said. “Happy I won’t promise. I’ll rig a storm line when I do, though.” She referred to an old farmer’s trick of tying a rope to one building and reeling it out until it could be tied to another building. It kept people from getting lost in the blinding snow and winds of a blizzard.

Jane said good-bye and hung up the phone. She flipped the last of her raspberry pancakes onto the stack that she had already made and brought them to the table.

“Add one more person to the cheer-up roster.” She told her sisters about Lloyd’s unhappy situation and her invitation to Ethel.

“It’s a shame we can’t call someone and request that Christmas be postponed for a week.” Alice passed the pitcher of maple syrup to Louise. “That would solve so many problems.”

“We could call FEMA, maybe,” Jane said, “and have this section of Pennsylvania declared a disaster area, get an extra week to dig out of the snow and unite people who should be together for the holidays.”

“FEMA is for tornadoes and floods, dear,” Louise said, “not snowstorms and family separations.”

Alice sighed. “I think it’s starting to depress me now.”

“Some vacation, huh?” Jane reached out and took hold of both her sisters’ hands. “I’m the cause of this and I am truly sorry. I never saw this happening.”

“You aren’t allowed to carry all the culpability,” Louise told her. “I invited them to stay with us.” She looked across the table at Alice. “I’m sure you had something to do with it too.”

Their middle sister nodded. “I was a conspirator from the beginning. I should have at least one-third share of the blame.”

Jane couldn’t hide her relief or her love for her sisters. “Okay, so what do we do now?”

“We should get everyone into the spirit of things,” Alice suggested. “Maybe we could put on some Christmas music and bake cookies? Have a decorate-the-inn party?”

“I hope that our guests might be up for that kind of activity. How is Mr. Hansford doing?” Louise asked.

“He is going to need at least a full day of bed rest, maybe two,” Alice said. “He’s in good shape, but I’ll keep a close eye on him, just to be sure.”

“Max seemed pretty chipper last night,” Jane said, eyeing her. “Did you have something to do with that?”

“I talked him into calling his son after the holidays. They haven’t spoken for ten years—it’s about time that they did.” Alice flushed a little as both her sisters stared at
her. “It’s not as hard to cheer up someone who already has no one at home. Truth be told, I think Max is happy that this happened. He even said it was better to be stranded here with us than to go home and sit in an empty house.”

“One down, four to go … five counting Aunt Ethel.” Jane held out the plate of pancakes so that her sisters could take seconds. “I tried to cheer up Ted while we were working on dinner.”

Alice perked up. “How did that go?”

“Terrible. I only ended up depressing him more.” She thought for a moment. “I think it was talking about his wife that upset him. Maybe we should try to avoid the subject of family altogether.”

“I know that they are upset over being separated from their loved ones, but we must help to overcome that, especially if they’re to be here for days.” Louise added a splash of cream to her coffee. “We need something that will keep them from brooding.”

“I’ll be happy to put everyone to work in here, but having too many cooks in the kitchen is never a good thing.” Jane glanced at the bucket beside the back door in which Alice kept the greenery that she had used to make her wreath. “Alice, I like your idea about asking them to help us with the decorating. We still have a couple of boxes of things to unpack and we definitely need more ornaments for the tree.”

“As long as we keep it low-key. Decorating might
remind them of home,” Louise said. “I don’t want to make them more homesick than they already are.”

Jane sat back. “Unless you blow up their hometowns, Louie, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

Louise tapped a finger against her cheek. “Perhaps if we go about doing what we normally do, they will want to join in and help us.”

“What if they don’t?” Jane’s smile dimmed.

“I don’t know, Jane, but I think Louise is right. Maybe we should just do what we normally do for guests,” Alice said. “We’ve always been able to make people feel right at home. Why should the holidays be any different?”

Jane pursed her lips. “Can we still pray for a van to show up, or would that be selfish and mean and unChristian?”

“We can pray for anything, and you do not have a single mean, selfish, unChristian bone in your body.” Louise nodded toward the window. “At least the Good Lord is giving us a beautiful, white Christmas.”

Jane suppressed a sigh. Christmas might look white for the moment, but if they did not find some way to cheer up their five guests, it was quickly going to turn a dismal shade of blue.

Coping with a full house was nothing new for the Howard sisters, except for the fact that Grace Chapel Inn’s visitors
were for the most part happy and satisfied people relaxing on vacation or taking time from a business trip while passing through the region.

The guests living under their roof at present were not happy people. They tried to put on a willing, cheerful demeanor, but when they discovered that a foot and a half of snow had fallen, and more was coming down every moment, their spirits drooped again.

“I never really believed in luck, good or bad,” Edwina said as she picked at her breakfast, “but I’m beginning to think that this tour has been jinxed from the start.”

Jane popped into the dining room to check on the guests and took a tray upstairs for Allan Hansford, who was still feeling too ill to leave his bed.

“All the major highways are closed?” Laura asked for a second time as Alice refilled her coffee. “All of them? You’re sure that’s what the report said?”

“I’ll turn on the radio in the parlor if you’d like to listen to it after breakfast,” Alice offered. “But people are already stranded all over the area.”

Laura drummed her bright-red fingernails against the table top. “Last night I hired—at great expense to myself, I might add—a private car to come and pick me up and take me back to the city.”

Max grunted. “Say good-bye to your deposit.”

The rhythm of her tapping nails increased. “Can’t we
call someone and tell them that it’s an emergency? Have them plow the roads?”

For a moment Alice was so stupefied by the request that all she could do was stare at the younger woman.

“You can try,” Max said. “People who have to work during the holidays can always use a good laugh.”

“This isn’t funny,” Laura snapped.

Alice noticed that Edwina was also staring at the younger woman, but the look on her face did not reveal shock as much as it did disappointment.

“Were you going to mention this private car to anyone, Laura?” the schoolteacher asked.

The interior decorator gave her a sharp look, then her cheeks grew red. “I would have.”

“If this storm is as bad as they say, we’ll probably lose the power,” Max said. “Where do you store your extra firewood, Alice?”

“We keep it in a bin in the shed at the side of the house,” Alice told him. “I should have thought of that. We’ll need to bring in as much as we can.”

The businessman nodded. “Venson, you and I will go out after breakfast and deal with that.”

Ted looked across the table at him. “We will?”

“You’re not afraid of a little snow, are you?” When the younger man shook his head, Max smiled. “Good.” He turned
to Edwina and Laura. “You two can help Miss Howard and her sisters get things ready in here. Even with the fireplaces, we’ll need extra blankets, flashlights and candles.”

“I don’t feel well.” Laura pressed a palm to her head. “I should go lie down.”

“Doing something will make you feel better.” Max drained his coffee and rose. “Ted, if you’re finished, let’s get cracking.”

With a look of near hero-worship, Ted nodded and followed the businessman out of the dining room.

Alice was about to release the breath she was holding when Laura abruptly got to her feet.

“Where is my bag?” she demanded loudly. Her face was very pale as she looked around her chair. “I had it right here.”

“I didn’t see you bring down a bag,” Alice said. She saw Louise look in on them from the kitchen and gave her older sister a small shake of her head.

“It had my snow globe in it,” she said, her voice growing more shrill. “I had to pay
thirty dollars
for that snow globe and now I won’t even be able to give it to my client. She’ll cancel her contract with me. She’s a friend of my mother’s. I have to have it. Where is it?” She started pacing around the room.

As Laura ranted about the snow globe, Edwina slipped out of the room. She returned just as Laura’s voice was
bordering on a shriek and held out the interior decorator’s purse.

“Here,” she said, putting the bag in her hands. “You left this in your room. Now sit down and stop acting like a hysterical child.”

Laura stared at her, open-mouthed.

“Don’t think I haven’t tried to be patient with you. We all have. But you’re a grown woman, Laura, and it’s time you started behaving like one.”

“How dare you say that to me! You don’t know what I’ve been through. What I’ve sacrificed and suffered to build my business. My mother is going to be so angry that I failed, that I—” She pressed her napkin against her face and burst into tears.

“Oh, Laura.” Edwina went over and sat next to the younger woman and put an arm around her narrow shoulders. “I’m sorry I spoke so harshly to you. This has been a terribly stressful time for all of us. You just need to let it out. There, there.” She looked up at Alice and gave her a small nod, as if to let her know she would look after the distraught woman.

Alice left them alone and carried the dishes she had cleared into the kitchen, where Louise was washing up.

“Are you all right?” her older sister asked.

“Yes. Laura needed to vent a little frustration,” Alice
told her. “Edwina is talking to her now. I think we should leave them alone for a bit.”

Jane returned from upstairs. “I gave Allan the bad news and he took it well. He’s feeling a little better, but I told him to stay in bed.” She looked in the direction of the weeping coming from the dining room. “Do I hear the stone wall around Laura’s heart finally giving way?”

“Max and Edwina said some things to her, and she’s upset over the storm and her mother.” Alice stacked the plates neatly in the dishwasher. “Evidently she hired a private-car service last night to come and pick her up, which won’t happen now. More than anything else I think it embarrassed her to admit that.”

Jane nodded. “A good cry will help.”

The sisters worked together to tidy the kitchen and then discussed what needed to be prepared in the event of a possible power outage. Max and Ted made several trips outside to bring in firewood from the shed and then distributed it to the inn’s fireplaces. Alice put out the extra blankets they might need, while Louise brought out the storm lamps, candles and flashlights. Jane put together the ingredients for several meals so that they could be made quickly and with minimum effort on the inn’s gas stove.

The sounds of stomping on the rear porch announced their aunt’s arrival just as Alice and Jane were regrouping in
the kitchen. When she joined them powdered from the storm, she was too cold at first to do more than let her teeth chatter. Jane quickly warmed her up with a cup of hot, sweet ginger tea.

“If I were a bear, I’d go find a cave and stay there until spring,” their aunt said once she was able to unclench her jaw. “It must be twenty below out there.”

“Colder with the wind-chill factor.” Jane used a hand towel to whisk the melting snowflakes from her aunt’s short red hair. “You should have waited until the storm cleared a bit before coming over.”

She waved a hand. “I faced worse when we were living on the farm. Besides, I have some news from town. If we’re still snowed in by Christmas Eve, Pastor Thompson’s made arrangements to have his sermon broadcast over one of the local AM radio stations in Riverton. He’s going to call the station on the telephone and they’re going to broadcast his call, just like they do with talk radio.”

“What a clever idea.” Alice said. “Here I had resigned myself to missing Christmas Eve service this year too.”