'Tis the Season Page 2

  This was all well and good — a neat and tidy story, thought Flora — except for one thing. On this past Thanksgiving night, in a conversation with Min, Flora had learned that her great-grandfather had died in 1964. So how had Mary continued to receive the gifts for two years after Lyman Davis’s death? There was only one way that could have happened: All those years the money must have been sent by someone other than Flora’s great-grandfather. But who? Flora’s heart started to pound just thinking about this.

  That afternoon, as she and Ruby and Nikki and Olivia worked away at their window (the trip to Mrs. Grindle’s had been uneventful, since the store had been crowded and Olivia had made a beeline for her mother), Flora kept looking at the clock, waiting for Mary Woolsey to arrive. When at last she walked through the door of Needle and Thread, Flora leaped to her feet, a shower of paper scraps and glitter falling from her lap.

  “Mary!” she cried. “Mary, I have to tell you something.”

  Mary, startled, looked at the four girls working at the table by the window. She saw one shiny brown face, two shiny pink faces, and Nikki’s faintly smudged face. (Hot water was sometimes in short supply at the Shermans’.) “Yes?” she said, edging toward her work space at the back of the store.

  Flora followed her. “Mary,” she said again, “my great-grandfather died in nineteen sixty-four. Min told me so.”

  Mary shrugged out of her coat and hung it on the back of her chair. She turned to Flora, frowning.

  “Well, don’t you see?” Flora went on. “You said you got the last envelope of money in nineteen sixty-six. Lyman Davis had been dead for two years then.”

  “Well, my word,” said Mary. And then, “My word.”

  “It’s a mystery, isn’t it?” said Flora.

  “It is indeed. A real mystery.”

  “Unless Min’s mother had been sending the money all along,” said Flora, hoping desperately that Mary wouldn’t agree with her. She liked the idea of a mystery.

  Mary looked thoughtful, but then she shook her head. “I don’t know, of course, but I really don’t think so. Mrs. Davis was a very nice lady, but she didn’t have the …” Mary paused, thinking, “the guilt that your great-grandfather did. She wasn’t the one who lost my parents’ nest egg; she wasn’t the one who fired my mother. It would take a good, solid, strong reason to send so much money for so many years. Mrs. Davis didn’t have such a reason.”

  “So who did,” asked Flora, “if it wasn’t my great-grandfather?”

  “I have no idea,” Mary replied. “No idea at all.”

  Flora spent the rest of the busy day wrapped in delicious mysterious feelings as well as delicious Christmasy ones. “I’ve never seen Camden Falls so crowded,” she said to Olivia.

  “This is what always happens after Thanksgiving. It’s the holiday rush.”

  The window still wasn’t finished when Min asked Flora if she would run to the copy center for her. Flora did so, not pausing to chat with Mr. Adams, who was working at the counter. She returned just as Gigi asked Olivia to run across the street to Stuff ’n’ Nonsense again, this time to borrow Mrs. Grindle’s hammer. “I can’t imagine what happened to ours,” said Gigi.

  As Olivia ran by Flora, she whispered, “No way am I asking the Grinch for the hammer. I hope Mom knows where it is.”

  Flora had just settled down next to Nikki again when the door to Needle and Thread opened and in walked Mr. and Mrs. Fong, who lived at one end of the Row Houses. Mrs. Fong’s hand was resting on her belly, which was starting to look rather big.

  “Hi!” Flora said, happy to see them.

  “Hello, Flora,” replied Mr. Fong, and Mrs. Fong smiled and said, “We thought it was time to begin making some things for the baby’s room.”

  Flora grinned. “We have a lot of really great stuff for kids. You could start over there with that rack labeled ‘Juvenile Fabrics.’ You might want to look at the flannels, too. We have a selection of flame-retardant flannels. What are you going to make?”

  “We’re not sure yet,” replied Mrs. Fong.

  “We have a lot of ideas,” added her husband. “Curtains, bumpers for the crib.”

  “Maybe a seat cushion for the rocking chair,” said Mrs. Fong.

  “Do you know whether the baby is a boy or a girl?” asked Flora.

  “Nope,” said Mrs. Fong. “But we’re going to find out soon.”

  Flora showed the Fongs the interior decor sections in the books of sewing patterns and was about to join Nikki again when she glanced outside and saw Sonny in his wheelchair. He was sitting by the door, facing Main Street. Flora poured a cup of coffee from the pot Min and Gigi kept going for the chat-and-stitchers and brought it to Sonny.

  “Thank you, Flora,” said Sonny, taking it in his good hand.

  “It’s kind of chilly today,” said Flora.

  “Snow’s in the air. I can smell it.”

  “Really?” Flora asked. “When is it coming?”

  “Don’t know for sure, but it’s around the corner.”

  Flora wondered for the millionth time about Sonny Sutphin’s life before she had met him. It was strange to know absolutely nothing about a person’s background. She knew at least a little about most of her new friends in Camden Falls — Nikki, Mary Woolsey, her Row House neighbors. But not Sonny. And she didn’t feel comfortable asking him questions. For instance, right now she wanted to say to Sonny, “What will you do after it snows? Can you get around in your wheelchair? Why do you need the wheelchair in the first place? What holidays do you celebrate? Do you celebrate with anyone? Do you have a family?” She thought she knew the answers to some of the questions, but she would have liked to hear them from Sonny himself.

  Now, as Sonny sipped the coffee, he said to her, “You’re going to catch cold, Flora, standing out here with no coat. Thank you for the coffee, but you’d better go back inside. I’ll leave the mug on the bench when I’m finished.”

  It wasn’t until darkness was falling that Flora realized there was a lull in all the activity. Only one customer was wandering around Needle and Thread, and the door hadn’t opened or closed in ten minutes. Min and Gigi looked at each other, and Min said, “My land, let’s sit down for a bit.”

  “Girls, you are doing a wonderful job,” said Gigi, settling herself onto the couch and watching the progress in the window.

  “Thank you,” said Nikki.

  And Ruby added, “We’re almost done. We can probably finish tomorrow.”

  “Hey, Gigi,” said Olivia, “are we going to have those gift workshops again this year?”

  “What gift workshops?” asked Flora.

  “In December we usually have workshops at the store to make presents for people who might not get any other presents at the holidays,” Olivia explained.

  “They’re distributed with the Special Delivery meals at Christmas and Hanukkah,” added Min.

  Flora nodded. She knew about Special Delivery. Her neighbor Mr. Pennington had a Special Delivery route, taking cooked meals to homebound Camden Falls residents.

  “What presents do you make?” asked Ruby.

  “Well,” said Olivia, “we supply fabric and buttons and trims, and people stop by all day to make eyeglass cases, pillows, aprons, fleece scarves, that kind of thing. It’s really fun.”

  “Our customers bring cookies and candy and even eggnog,” added Min. “It’s like a party.”

  “Excellent!” said Ruby.

  “So are we going to have the workshops this year?” asked Flora.

  “Yes,” replied Min. “Two, I think.”

  “One during the week, and one on a Saturday,” added Gigi.

  “Goody,” said Ruby. “We can all come to the Saturday workshop.”

  “All right,” said Min. “Time to close up the store.”

  Ruby looked at the clock. “Now? But it’s only quarter to five.”

  “And that’s the perfect time for the lighting of the Main Street Christmas tree.”

  Outside Flor
a could see that the street was even more crowded than before. People were streaming by Needle and Thread, all hurrying in the same direction.

  Olivia was grinning. “This is almost as good as what happens on Christmas Eve. You didn’t know about this, did you?” she said to Flora and Ruby.

  They shook their heads.

  And Nikki added, “I’ve heard about it, but I’ve never seen it.”

  “You’re kidding,” said Olivia. “I thought you lived here all your life.”

  “I have. But we never came into town for this. In fact,” Nikki went on, looking worried, “I probably shouldn’t be here now. I think I was supposed to go home before it got dark. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Call your parents,” said Gigi gently. “Tell them I’ll drive you home as soon as the tree has been lit.”

  Nikki, hands shaking, used the phone at the checkout counter to call her house. “I think the service has been turned off again,” she said a minute later.

  Gigi put an arm around her. “This is not for you to worry about. Come with us and enjoy the ceremony. Min and I will take care of things.”

  “Okay. Thank you,” said Nikki.

  Min was walking around the store, turning off sewing machines and unplugging irons and the coffeepot. “Will you join us, Mary?” she said as Mary slipped into her coat.

  Mary bowed her head. “I think I’ll head on home.”

  Even Flora knew better than to beg her to stay. But she did say, “I’ll see you next week. Keep thinking about our mystery!”

  At last, the store lights were turned off, too, except for the tiny gold ones that now bordered the window, and Min, Gigi, Flora, Ruby, Olivia, and Nikki stepped into the frosty night air. They joined the crowd moving along the sidewalk, sleeves brushing sleeves, mittened hands raised in greetings, boots tromping. Every business had closed, Flora realized, but the streetlights glowed, and the windows were alive with mechanical Santas and trimmed trees and glowing stars. Flora passed several menorahs, the candles still unlit as the first night of Hanukkah was two weeks away. As she paused by some windows, she heard music — songs and carols and bells chiming — and as she paused by others, she smelled chocolate and cider and warm buttery things.

  “Ooh, look!” Ruby said suddenly.

  They had reached the town square. A fir tree, at least three stories high, had been placed in the center of the square. Its branches were dark, but Flora could see the lights that had been twined around them, and she could smell the sharp scent that made her feel as if she were deep in a pine forest. In front of the tree a group of carolers, each holding a candle, stood in a tight knot, voices raised. “Adeste fideles!” they sang.

  “‘Everywhere, everywhere, Christmas tonight,’” murmured Flora, remembering a poem she had once read.

  And at that, Nikki cried out, “Mom!” She broke away from Flora and Ruby and Olivia and wiggled through the crowd of people.

  “Hey, there’s Mae,” said Olivia, pointing to Nikki’s little sister.

  “And Tobias,” added Flora.

  “And I guess that’s Mrs. Sherman,” said Ruby.

  The carolers stopped singing then, and one of them stepped forward and led the crowd in “Deck the Halls” and “Silent Night.” There was a moment of expectant silence, and then a tree of blue and green and gold and red and violet and white sprang forth from the darkness.

  Flora drew in her breath. It’s like magic, she thought. But years later, even when she was a grown woman remembering this Christmas in Camden Falls, the image that would first come into her mind was not of the tree but of Nikki standing between her mother and Mae, holding their hands, Tobias behind them, their faces shining, Mae’s nearly awestruck.

  Flora didn’t know why Mrs. Sherman, who never attended town events, had decided to come to the lighting of the tree but she thought perhaps she had been emboldened by the thought of a life without Mr. Sherman. Flora took this as a very good sign.

  Everyone admired the tree for a few minutes (“It will stay lit until New Year’s Day,” said Min), and then they began to drift away.

  “Good-bye!” Flora and Olivia and Ruby called to Nikki.

  Gigi and Olivia’s grandfather walked to their car. Olivia had found her parents and her brothers and also Mr. Pennington, who lived next door to her, and they made their way back to the Row Houses with Min, Ruby, and Flora, turning left off Main Street onto Dodds Lane, then right onto Aiken Avenue. And there before Flora were the Row Houses, looking in the dark like a castle. They were actually eight attached houses that had been built in 1882, and they were the only ones of their kind in Camden Falls. Flora had already begun to think of the Row House residents, all twenty-five of them, as her very large family. She passed by first the Morrises’ house, dark since the Morrises had gone away for Thanksgiving; then by the Willets’ house, where Mr. and Mrs. Willet were probably eating supper; and then by the Malones’ house, which was also dark, before turning onto their walk.

  “See you tomorrow!” Flora called to Olivia as the Walters turned onto their own walk next door.

  From down the dimly lit street she heard Mr. Pennington and Robby Edwards and his parents and the Fongs calling good-bye and good night to one another. Ruby opened their front door and Min grabbed the mail from the letter box. She stood in the front hallway and leafed through the envelopes as Daisy Dear galumphed out of the kitchen and King Comma made a more subtle appearance.

  “Huh,” said Min, an open card in her hand. “This is from your aunt Allie, girls. She says she’s planning to visit at Christmas and that she’ll call soon to make arrangements. My stars. She hasn’t visited Camden Falls in years.”

  This turned out to be bigger news than Flora could have imagined.

  Nicolette Sherman didn’t usually wake up cheerful, but on Monday morning she woke up feeling as though she could whistle and skip and dance all day long. Who cared if it was raining? Who cared if it was Monday? Who cared if Thanksgiving vacation had ended? Who cared if Mr. Donaldson, her new teacher, was taking over today, and Mrs. Mandel, her favorite teacher ever, had left? The day before, her father had packed up his clothes and a few belongings, loaded them into his truck, and taken off.

  He was gone.

  It hadn’t been much of a good-bye. Tobias hadn’t even been home. “He doesn’t deserve to be able to say good-bye to me,” Tobias had said angrily to Nikki. “I don’t care when he leaves, just so long as he leaves. I’ll see the rest of you tonight.” And then he had driven away in his old car, which would become the family car once Mr. Sherman was gone.

  Nikki agreed with everything Tobias had said, but she wanted to watch her father drive away. She didn’t want any doubt that he had actually left. So she had been standing in the driveway with her mother and Mae when Mr. Sherman tossed his things onto the front seat of the truck and then climbed in after them.

  Mrs. Sherman, looking worried but not particularly sad, had said, “And where is this job you found?”

  Mr. Sherman grunted. “I told you. Alabama.”

  “You know there’s hardly any money in our account. Just enough for a few weeks.”

  “I’ll be sending you money long before then. Quit worrying.”

  Those had been Mr. Sherman’s last words before he’d slammed the door shut, started the engine with a bang, and roared down the lane, his tires sending gravel flying.

  Mae, a smile creeping across her face, had turned to Mrs. Sherman and asked, “Can Paw-Paw be our pet now? Can he come in the house?”

  Nikki had spotted Paw-Paw, one of the stray dogs she and Mae regularly fed, sitting hesitantly at the edge of their property, and she, too, turned an expectant face to her mother.

  “I don’t know,” said Mrs. Sherman. “What will we do when your father comes back?”

  Mae made a pouty face but then said jubilantly to Nikki, “She didn’t say no!”

  And now it was the next morning, and even though it was a rainy Monday and vacation was over and Mrs. Mandel was
gone, Nikki leaped from her bed, whistling “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” “Come on, Mae!” she exclaimed as she rummaged through their bureau drawers. “Time to get up. I’ll make pancakes for breakfast!”

  Later, when the school bus arrived, Nikki ignored the two kids sitting in the front seats who made a great show of holding their noses as she and Mae lurched their way to the rear. She listened to Mae talk about Santa Claus all the way into town.

  When at last the bus drew up in front of Camden Falls Elementary, Nikki looked out her window. “There are Olivia and Flora and Ruby,” she said, and she ran along the aisle of the bus, pulling Mae behind her.

  Nikki and Mae were the last ones to hop down the steps, and they were grinning when they met their friends.

  “Dad left yesterday,” Nikki announced, but she inclined her head toward Mae as she said this, and Flora and Olivia and Ruby refrained from asking her any questions.

  “And Santa Claus is coming soon!” said Mae.

  Flora glanced at Olivia and smiled, but her smile faded when Mae added, “Last year he didn’t have a map to our house so he couldn’t come.”