Merry, Merry Ghost (12 page)

“Indeed.” Her tone was considering. “I hadn’t made a final decision. Of course, I want to see Peg happily launched. She’s a wonderful girl. Frankly, I’ve never especially cared for Dave. Sometimes too-handsome men think the world revolves around them. He can be extremely charming when he chooses and I’m afraid Peg is dazzled, but he seems very dictatorial. I’m afraid Peg was too young when her father died and she may be looking for the sense of security that comes from letting other people make decisions. But that’s not my business. I suppose I listened to his plans for her sake. And”—she sounded rueful—“I didn’t really care about the estate then. Now I care. However, there was no commitment. I merely said I would consider providing the money interest-free. Now, I definitely want to see a business plan and also the blueprints for the building. When he calls again”—her voice was cool—“tell him he needs to submit a formal proposal.”

“I’ll do that.” Wade sounded satisfied.

“You give good advice, Wade. Now is no time for extravagance. There seem to be too many demands on me suddenly. Tucker recently asked about buying a new bull. Gina wants me to pay off her credit cards. I am not inclined to do that. She must learn to live within her means.”

“She’ll have to face financial reality sooner or later. Now, about the new will”—he was businesslike—“our office closes on Christmas Eve and we won’t reopen until January second.”

Susan’s words tumbled out. “I hope you don’t think I’m being unreasonable, but I want to sign the will as soon as possible. That will give me peace. Could you possibly have it ready for me by Monday?”

“This coming Monday?” He was clearly dismayed.

“Please, Wade. I know it’s the holidays. But it will mean the world to me to be sure everything is arranged for Keith.”

There was only the shortest hesitation before he answered. “I understand.” His voice was kind. “I’ll bring the instrument here Monday at ten o’clock.”

In the shaft of light from a hall lamp, Jake’s face looked pinched. She began to ease the tension on the knob.

As soon as the panel shut, Jake would hurry downstairs. Susan Flynn would never know her conversation with Wade Farrell had been overheard. I made my decision on the instant. With a firm shove, I pushed the door open. It banged against the wall.

Jake stood frozen in the doorway, a picture of guilt.

Susan turned to look. Her patrician face reflected surprise. And concern.

Wade came to his feet. His eyes narrowed in speculation though his expression was pleasant.

Jake’s face flushed a deep painful red. “I came to see if I could bring some coffee. Something banged into the door.” She looked over her shoulder.

The hall was empty.

“I don’t know what happened.” She stared at the door.

“It is thoughtful of you to ask.” Susan’s voice was light and even, but her eyes held a shadow. “We won’t be needing anything. Thank you.”

Jake turned hurriedly and bolted into the hall, slamming the door behind her.

Susan looked at Wade, started to speak, gave a slight head shake, then said briskly, “I’ll keep the papers about Keith.”

The lawyer nodded. “I’ll get right to work.”

Susan sank back in her chair, her thin face troubled.

As Peg set the
table for lunch in the kitchen, Jake paced near the oven. Her face flushed, she talked rapidly.

“…and I think it’s mean as can be. Susan promised the house to me.”

Peg lifted a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator. “Mother, what difference does it make? The house will be yours as long as you live.”

Jake slapped napkins next to each plate. “I know how it will go. There will be all kinds of provisions.

Everything will be his, really. What if when he”—she jerked her head toward Keith, absorbed in stacking different-sized saucepans one within another—“gets married, his wife doesn’t like me, and they want to live here?” Jake’s voice rose in a wail.

Peg poured tea into bright red tumblers. “Mother”—her tone was patient but exasperated—“don’t borrow trouble. Let him be a little boy and grow up. That’s all years away.”

Gina sliced ham. “Ease up, Jake. Peg’s right. A life interest sounds great. I’d be glad to have a life interest in something.”

“Two hundred thousand dollars for each of us is very generous.” Peg’s tone was sharp.

“It isn’t two million.” Gina’s voice was shaky.

Jake planted her hands on her hips. “Susan promised the house to me and neither of you care. But I’m not the only one who’s going to pay a price. Gina, you can whistle Dixie about those credit cards. Susan’s not going to give you a nickel. As for you, Peg, Susan’s not about to rubber-stamp Dave’s clinic. She wants a business plan and she’ll consider a plain-vanilla building for the clinic, not that fancy stacked stone Dave wants. Both of you can chew that over with your lunch. I’m too upset to eat a thing.” Jake whirled and slammed out of the kitchen.

The knife clattered from Gina’s hand. As she bent slowly down to pick it up, Peg came close and touched her arm. “I’m sorry, Gina. You were counting on that money.”

Gina rose and flung the knife into the sink. “I’m desperate. They have a judgment against me and they’re going to take my car away from me.” Tears welled in her eyes.

“If I can help—”

Gina’s burst of laughter was harsh and ragged. “You’re poor, too, honey. Nothing can help me except cash. If I could take out a loan…But banks won’t loan money to people like me, not when they won’t even loan money to somebody like Dave, a brand-new vet who can make at least seventy thousand a year once he starts his practice. What are you going to do? Isn’t Dave coming right after lunch? Are you going to tell him?”

I finished a hasty
lunch, pulled together in a flash when Peg went to answer the front door and Gina took a tray up to Susan.

A remarkably handsome man followed Peg into the living room. Dave Lewis had curly brown hair and film-star features, a broad forehead, straight nose, full lips, cleft chin.

Dave held up a portfolio, his face pink from the cold and excitement. He was magazine-ad attractive in a thick Shetland wool pullover sweater and dark gray slacks and black loafers. His pale brown eyes gleamed with delight. “Got a new concept. It’s even better than the first one.” He stopped, gazed at Keith. “Who’s the kid?”

“Susan’s grandson, Keith.” Quickly, Peg explained.

Keith tugged at a log. He called out, “Let’s make a fire, Peg.”

She moved toward the fireplace.

“That can wait.” Dave pointed at the wood. “Yeah, Keith, why don’t you count the logs.” He turned to Susan.

“Look at these.” He knelt to pull out the thick sheets and spread them on the floor. “It makes sense to build as large a clinic as we can. We’ll have boarders, of course. See, here’s the run for dogs—” He looked up, frowned. “Come on, Peg. Take a look.”

Keith tugged on Peg’s sweater. “Can we have a fire?”

“In a minute, sweetie. Run upstairs and get your bag of gold coins and I’ll sell you some wood.”

Keith grinned and pelted for the door.

Dave grinned. “Good move, Peg. Now we can look at my—”

“Dave.” Peg clasped her hands tightly together. Her round expressive face was slightly pale, her eyes anxious. “You need to check with Susan’s lawyer. I think Susan wants a business plan. And”—Peg’s eyes fell away from him—“she may think the building should be scaled back a little. Because of the economy.”

Dave let the plans roll back together. He picked up the roll, stood. “What’s up? Why the roadblock? I’ve got a great concept and it’s all pulled together.”

“Susan’s looking ahead to the future. For her grandson.”

“How about our future? I thought she was on board.” He seemed to realize he’d spoken too loudly. “Look, Peg, Susan’s fond of you. Talk to her. You can smooth everything out.” He walked over, pulled her close.

“I’m counting on you. This is for us.”

Keith pounded into the living room, holding the little leather bag. “I’ll buy two logs.”

Dave took an irritated breath. “I’m going out to take some pix of a good property that’s selling for a song. I’ll show them to you later.” He glanced at Keith. “When you aren’t playing nursemaid. Maybe we can get out after the tree party.” He turned and strode toward the hall.

I love a good
party, but I didn’t feel a part of the festivities hovering above the crowd. I landed behind a huge evergreen. After looking carefully in all directions, I swirled into being. I’d noted the coats and jackets of the onlookers crowding the front lawn of Pritchard House. The styles were casual. I much preferred dressier selections, but I wanted to blend into the festive gathering. I wasn’t willing to don the slick bulky coats worn by many. I decided on a double-breasted black wool cropped jacket with oversize buttons on the sleeve cuffs, a magenta blouse, black wool trousers, argyle socks, and black boots.

Earlier in the afternoon, Leon and Tucker had erected scaffolding next to the big tree and wound the light strands around and around from the top of the tree to the bottom. Promptly at four o’clock the neighbors converged. Children from toddlers to teenagers formed an orderly line at the base of the scaffolding steps.

For the past hour, Leon had guided children up the steps to a platform. Each child carried a decoration large enough to be visible on the big tree.

The decorations were both everyday and extraordinary:

Red-and-white-striped candy canes.

Models of sleds, reindeer, angels, snowmen, antique cars, even a rescue helicopter.

Wooden carvings of a giraffe, elephant, seal, whale, lion, lamb, cow, horse, armadillo, dog, cat, goat, chimpanzee, polar bear, and eagle.

Bright plastic balls with painted scenes of a skating party, roasting chestnuts, a sleigh ride, carolers, presents piled beneath a tree, a family dinner, the Salvation Army kettle, lampposts decorated with strands of red and green lights.

Leon helped the last child, a little girl in a pink snowsuit, place a sparkling candy cane on a branch. As he swung her up to wave, the crowd stirred expectantly.

The woman in front of me lifted a little boy. “Look up, Bobby. Watch the balcony.”

I stood on tiptoe trying to see.

She gave me a quick bright smile. “Here, you can squeeze in beside me. Isn’t this wonderful. It’s just like old times.” Dark curls framed a cheerful face, her cheeks red with cold.

“I’m visiting around the corner.” I gestured to my left. “Is this a church party?”

She shifted the child onto one hip. “A neighborhood party. It will really make you feel like Christmas.” Her smile was infectious. “I’m Kay Kelly.”

I hesitated only an instant. “Jerrie Emiliani.”

Kay gave an expansive wave with her free hand. “I grew up in Adelaide and this has always been my very favorite Christmas celebration. It was started by the Pritchard family years and years ago. Susan Flynn, who lives here now, is the last of the Pritchards. Everyone is welcome. It started off as a little party for children who were friends of the family’s children, but now people come from all over town. Mrs. Flynn doesn’t mind. The children help decorate a big Scotch pine cut fresh from the Pritchard ranch. The tree isn’t like the tree at Rockefeller Center, but for Adelaide it’s a big, big tree. After the decorating is done, there’s a bonfire and kids roast marshmallows and there are cookies and punch and hot chocolate and every child gets a little wrapped present. One of the family members hands out gifts to each boy and girl. The gifts are assorted by age. I still have all my gifts. My favorite was a little charm bracelet with a rose rock.”

I knew all about rose rocks, the official rock of Oklahoma. Barite crystals combined with Oklahoma’s iron-rich sand to produce reddish rocks shaped like roses. The Cherokee believed that each rock represented the blood of those who died on the Trail of Tears when the Cherokee were forcibly removed from Georgia in 1838 to Indian Territory.

“Mrs. Flynn”—my new friend nodded toward the house—“has been ill the last few years and hasn’t come out on the balcony with the rest of the family to welcome everyone. One child will be picked to place the star at the very top of the tree and switch on the tree lights. Every year the lights are a different color. Last year they were all blue. Oh look, here comes the family.”

Twin lanterns flashed on, illuminating the now shadowy balcony in a golden glow, making it a bright stage in the deepening dusk. Susan Flynn stepped outside. She was elegant in a full-length black mink coat with a wing collar and turned-back cuffs. A crimson turtleneck emphasized the dark sheen of the mink. A matching fur fedora was tilted at a jaunty angle.

A cheer rose.

My new friend was joyful. “How wonderful. That’s Mrs. Flynn. She must be feeling better, though her face is awfully thin.”

Susan held up both hands, smiling and blinking back tears, touched by the exuberant welcome.

I sorted them out as they stepped onto the balcony.

Plump Jake Flynn nodded this way and that as if the welcome was for her, not Susan. Jake looked like a plump robin in a red quilted vest.

A wide-eyed Keith clutched Peg Flynn’s hand. Dave stood on Peg’s other side. He held possessively to her elbow. His camel-hair coat looked new and was undoubtedly expensive.

Gina Satterlee drew some admiring glances for her silver fur and stylish red-and-black-plaid slacks.

An ebullient smile was bright as a Christmas wreath on Harrison Hammond’s florid face. His wife Charlotte shivered and tied a red wool scarf beneath her chin. She moved toward a remaining sunny spot on the balcony.

Tucker Satterlee sauntered out last. Unlike the other men, he had a rugged outdoor appearance in his tan shearling coat and snug jeans. Tucker pulled the hall door shut and joined his sister. He leaned against the railing and folded his arms.

Gina gave Tucker a quick, unreadable glance.

Susan moved to the railing. “Merry Christmas.” Her voice rang clear and true.

“Merry Christmas.” The shouts rose on the clear cold air.

“Thank you for coming to our tree party.” The breeze ruffled the lustrous fur of her coat. She took a quick breath. “Every year a child is invited to put the Star of Bethlehem atop the tree when the other decorations are in place.” Susan gripped the railing with both hands, steadied herself. “This year, the child is special to me and this Christmas will be one of the most joyous of my life. My grandson Keith has come to live with me. Keith will crown our tree.”