A Piggly Wiggly Christmas (25 page)

“I’m feeling better about everything by the minute,” Petey said. “By the time we finish dessert, I’ll have that new plan in place.”

“How exciting!” Myrtis exclaimed. “Now that’s the Petey Lyons we’ve all come to know and admire around here.”

“I must admit it’s been great fun having you here at Evening Shadows to keep us ladies of a certain age company,” Euterpe put in, sighing there at the end. “If I were only a couple of decades younger, I keep telling myself during my daydreams . . . oh, did I say that out loud?”

Myrtis gave her a naughty glance and wagged a finger. “You know good and well you did.” Then she put down her fork and took a deep breath.

“I’m not quite sure where this came from, but I’d like to take this opportunity to thank both of you for these past few months of marvelous companionship. I know it’s not going to be a permanent arrangement, but I just can’t help it. It feels like a family to me. Every morning when I get up and walk down the upstairs hallway to help Sarah in the kitchen, I glance at the Mimosa Suite and know that the dashing Mr. Petey Lyons is in there sleeping in my four-poster. And then I glance at the Bloody Mary Suite across the hall, and I know my sophisticated friend and fellow Nitwitt—not to mention piano teacher—Euterpe Simon and her precious Pan are getting their beauty rest in there. I really don’t get the chance to know the guests who come and go overnight for the most part.” She paused briefly to dab at her eyes with her napkin. “Oh, I wonder if I’ll have withdrawal symptoms after the two of you are gone.”

It was Euterpe who spoke first. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I’m not so sure I’ll ever leave, Myrtis. You’ve made it so easy for me to live here in high style. Where else could I enjoy such elaborate meals and impeccable living quarters all rolled into one? I’ve toyed with finding a place of my own, of course, but, Myrtis, I’m leaning strongly toward the two of us making a go of it out here together. I end up doing miniconcerts at the piano for your guests all the time anyway. What would you think of our sitting down with a lawyer and making this bed-and-breakfast a partnership of some kind?”

Myrtis gave a little gasp of surprise, followed by the grandest of smiles. “Why, Euterpe, the thought never occurred to me. But I must say that I’m intrigued. This is an awfully big house, and it was terribly lonely for me after Raymond died. That’s why I finally came up with the bed-and-breakfast idea. At least I could have some company now and then. Other than Sarah in the kitchen, I mean. But what would become of your music studio? Would you give it up?”

“Absolutely not. I am, after all, the Mistress of the Scales, and I assure you she can handle both.”

“Well, I think it’s just an extraordinary idea!”

“Is that a yes, no, or a maybe?”

Myrtis took a healthy sip of her wine for courage. “Well, I think it’s a ‘let’s sit down and explore it seriously’ after the holidays.”

Then Petey joined in, obviously delighted by the developments. “Now you have a new plan, too, Myrtis. Which reminds me—I haven’t really had the chance to tell you how much the wedding you staged for my mother meant me to me and my sister, Amanda. Meta and her Florida friends were just as crazy about it, too. You went all out here at Evening Shadows, and we all agreed that we’d never been more impressed with a reception. That tent you put up was to die for. So, Meta and I were wondering if you’d be willing to do the same for us. That is, if we finally come around and set an actual date.”

“Well, it seems Christmas has come early for me this evening,” Myrtis said. “I’d be honored to host your wedding and reception, Petey.” Then she leaned in and began talking in a stage whisper. “And rumor has it that Renza has been trying to get her only daughter married off for years. I’m sure she’d foot the bill without a hint of her usual prickly pear behavior.”

Petey managed a little smirk. “Meta and I didn’t think she’d come around at first, but she has. Last time Meta talked to her over the phone she brought up the subject of grandchildren. Oh, yes, she’s definitely on board now.”

Over the dessert of tiramisu and coffee, Myrtis reminded Petey of his promise to unveil his new plan for himself and Meta. “Are you ready to share? Unless the wedding here at Evening Shadows was the plan.”

“Of course the wedding is part of the plan, and I know Meta will be thrilled to hear we’re having it out here. I don’t think she envisioned anywhere else but here. But I have something more comprehensive in mind for Second Creek,” he explained. “The details have to be ironed out, though. First, I have an important phone call to make to Amanda up in Chicago. Then I have to run a few things by my mother. I really don’t mean to sound so mysterious, but I promise you I’ll have something in place by Christmas Eve.”

Just past nine o’clock, Mr. Choppy and Gaylie Girl left the hospital after visiting with Cherish and Henry and getting the latest update on baby Riley Jacob. Denver Lee had just wound up her Vigil Auntie shift and tagged along, but none of them were in especially high spirits.

“It must be just awful for Henry and Cherish to have to wait it out like this with no change in the status of that precious little baby. Every hour must seem like an eternity to them,” Gaylie Girl remarked as they headed out into the cold to the hospital parking lot. A brisk wind brought tears to their eyes as they hugged their coats and picked up the pace to their cars.

“Anyone want to go for some decent coffee and have a little talk before we head home?” Denver Lee called out just as she reached her Cadillac. “I believe the Town Square Café is still open.”

Her suggestion met with everyone’s approval, and soon they were thawing out with their cappuccinos at a corner café table.

“I don’t know why I keep coming here,” Denver Lee was saying. “Oh, of course I do. Their bear claws are such a temptation for me, and I just can’t afford the sugar bomb. I have no business putting myself in harm’s way.”

“We’ll remind you if you get the sudden urge to order one,” Gaylie Girl replied with a wink.

Mr. Choppy was craning his neck, staring at the café’s big picture window that overlooked The Square. He seemed about to make a comment when March Ventress, the tall, gangly owner of the Town Square Café, approached their table.

“Sad sight out there, isn’t it, Mayor?” March said, shaking his head and then whistling through his teeth for emphasis.

“How’s it affected your business so far, March? Not too much, I hope,” Mr. Choppy asked, wanting to know.

“Well, it’s funny. We’ve actually had a little spike here lately. People comin’ to The Square to see all the damage that’s been done, and then they see we’re open and come in for a cup of coffee or somethin’ to get outta the cold. But I really don’t expect that kinda business to last. Even our burned-out stores aren’t that spectacular to gawk at, ya know. I’m sure word’ll get around that there’s just not that much to see.” March surveyed the table quickly. “My waiter taken good care of you here? Got everything you need?”

“Service was just fine, March,” Mr. Choppy said. “Thanks for lookin’ after us.”

After March had stepped away, Mr. Choppy returned to his contemplation of The Square. “I’m really worried about the long-range effects. We have such a monumental re-buildin’ task ahead of us.”

Gaylie Girl put down her coffee cup and nodded. “I did talk to Novie the other day, and she said that it’s too early to tell how much the fire will affect Marc’s business at How’s Plants? She also said that he and Michael really needed to have a banner Christmas to make up for lagging sales the past few months. The reality has to be that this terrible fire can’t help things. But I feel sure that Caroling in The Square would have been a boon. We were so close to establishing a new Square tradition.”

Mr. Choppy leaned over and nudged her. “We gotta remember our cream of courage, right?”

Denver Lee blinked a couple of times. “What?”

“Oh, long story,” Gaylie Girl said. “I’ll fill you in another time over a Bloody Mary or two.”

Then Denver Lee let out a long and plaintive sigh. “Do you know that I actually had a couple of the choirmasters take me up on my organ accompaniment tapes? It was that nice Press Phillips at First Presbyterian and that sweet Mrs. Vergie Woods of that Marblestone Whatchamacallit Church. And they both got back to me and said what a tremendous help my tapes were during practice. I custom made them, you know. I really felt like I was contributing to the success of your project, Gaylie Girl. And now, all we have to show for our efforts are these awful ruins. This is the sort of thing that drives me to powdered doughnuts!”

Gaylie Girl wagged a finger with a supportive smile. “Willpower, dear, willpower.”

Denver Lee straightened up in her chair and crisply tossed her head back. “You’re absolutely right. I must be strong. We all must be strong—for ourselves, for Second Creek, and for Henry and Cherish and their little son. The fact is, we could all use a little resolution at this point. Well, at least we have the caroling at Delta Sunset Village to look forward to as a definite. That, and seeing our dear Wittsie is sure to put us back in the Christmas spirit.”

Gaylie Girl reached over and grasped Mr. Choppy’s hand. “I sincerely hope so. Hale is giving me the afternoon off from my secretarial duties so I can be there with all of you. I’m sure it will be good for our souls.”

“M
iz Wittsie is having her best day in months!” Mrs. Holstrom was explaining to Laurie and Powell, the first of the Nitwitt contingent to arrive for the afternoon caroling event at Delta Sunset Village. They had left Second Creek a good fifteen minutes before the others and had happened to walk into the enormous atrium lobby just as Mrs. Holstrom was finishing up directing the arrangement of folding chairs for the audience of residents and their friends and families.

“I really think the fact that you’re all coming to see her at once has sparked her interest. She hasn’t forgotten a thing all day. It’s pretty remarkable in a way,” Mrs. Holstrom continued. “You’re aware she’s had that trouble swallowing, of course. It’s been a rough couple of weeks for her. But she seems to be all there today. Just as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as I’ve ever seen her. It’s somebody’s Christmas wish come true.”

Laurie gazed at Powell briefly and then offered Mrs. Holstrom her brightest smile. “Maybe ours. I’m referring to the Nitwitts, of course. I’m sure we’ve all been praying for her every day.”

Mrs. Holstrom smiled and then checked her watch with her usual efficiency. “Mr. Phillips called just before you came in and said they were running a tad bit late, but he expected the choir bus to be here any minute. We’ve still got a half hour before it’s all scheduled to start. But as you can see, we’ve got some curious early birds. Our people have been talking about this for days on end. I’m just hoping we have enough chairs. I just finished having the staff put out some extra. Some of the residents have invited as many family members as they can get hold of. It’s probably going to be an overflow crowd. I’m fairly certain we wouldn’t have gotten this kind of reaction if the Christmas storytelling couple I had booked originally had shown up. Sometimes what looks like a bother and a problem turns out to be a blessing in disguise.”

Laurie surveyed the lobby and noted the sprinkling of walkers and scooters around the edges. The faces of those using them were expectant, even touchingly childlike, and Laurie felt pangs of emotion welling up in her throat. “I wonder if that will be us in another ten or fifteen years,” she said to Powell.

“As long as we’re together,” he answered, smiling down at her, “I don’t care where we are. And who says we can’t get us a scooter built for two?”

The rest of the Nitwitts began trickling in. Future in-laws Renza and Gaylie Girl had driven over together and were next to join them in the lobby. Then Myrtis and Euterpe showed up as the Evening Shadows contingent. Denver Lee rolled in last, muttering something about almost running out of gas and having to stop at a filthy service station somewhere that charged outrageous prices at the pump and had Third World bathrooms to boot. But finally they were all there, ready to embrace Wittsie, sing along with the choir to the best of their ability, and immerse themselves in the much-needed Christmas spirit.