Edith wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, so she simply stood up and told them she had to get back before her cinnamon rolls burned.
At ten o’clock, after the last of the guests had finished breakfast, Edith called and informed Helen that the shower was a go.
“It sounds like they don’t have much of anything,” said Edith. “And living in the bus like that, without laundry facilities, well, I’m sure some extra clothes and blankets will come in handy.”
“This is going to be fun,” said Helen. “And I have all these decorations and plates and napkins and things that I’d wanted to use when Angie had her baby, and then her sister-in-law went and beat me to the punch.”
“But that was more than twenty years ago, Helen.”
“I know. But they were so cute that I hung on to them, and I plan to use them tomorrow.”
“So you really think you can pull this off by tomorrow?”
“I don’t see why not. People will come or they won’t. But we
will
have a shower.”
Not for the first time, Edith was reminded that Helen had once been a military nurse and that she was used to giving orders.
“Is ten o’clock all right with you?”
“It’s fine.”
“Great. I’ll be there by 8:30 to set up.”
“Be where?” Edith felt worried now.
“At the inn, of course. You didn’t think I’d have it here, did you, Edith? Goodness knows, you’ve got far more room than I. And if you’re not too busy, could you bake something yummy? You’re such a good cook.”
What could Edith say?
“And it might be easier if you made the punch too. Maybe something pink, since the decorations are blue and pink.”
“Cake and punch,” said Edith. “Anything else?”
“Well, do you happen to have mixed nuts and those little pastel mints on hand?”
“No, but I can get some.”
“Oh, good. I think that should do it.”
“How many people do you think we can count on, Helen?”
“Hmm . . .” Edith imagined her counting on her fingers. “I’d say at least twenty.”
“Twenty?” Edith was surprised. “On such short notice? And just two days before Christmas?”
“Maybe even thirty.”
Edith was not so sure. “Okay, well, I’ll just make sure we have plenty, and if there are leftovers, I can use them during the holidays.”
“Of course.”
They said good-bye and hung up, and Edith just shook her head and sighed.
“What’s wrong?” asked Charles as he came in to refill his coffee mug.
“Oh, nothing much. But it now looks as if I’m the one hosting the baby shower tomorrow.”
“I thought Helen was taking care of everything.”
“So did I. But it seems her way of taking care of it is to have it here.”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “Poor Edith, you’ll be ready for a vacation by New Year’s.”
She forced a smile. “Actually, I should be thankful. I’m very happy for Amy. And Helen has the hardest task anyway.”
“What’s that?”
She laughed. “Lining up guests who are willing to come to a shower for a girl they might not have met, who doesn’t live here, and whose bright-colored bus is causing a bit of a fuss in town.” Then she told him what the mayor had said.
“Don’t worry about it, Edith. I’ll talk to him. And I was just about to get Collin to come with me to get parts. We’ll probably have to go out of town for them.”
“Well, he’s out shoveling snow,” said Edith.
Charles smiled. “Good for him. Did you ask him, or did he just offer?”
“He just found the shovel and started doing it.”
“And you think Amy will be okay here without him?” asked Charles with a slight frown. “I mean, if she should suddenly decide to go into labor and have her baby or need help or anything.”
Edith laughed. “You sound just like an anxious father to be.”
“Well, these kids seem a little helpless . . .”
“I know. And don’t you worry. Amy’s downstairs at the moment, doing several loads of laundry. I’ll be here. She should be just fine. And if she should go into labor, there is always Helen.”
He nodded. “Then I guess you’re all in good hands.” He reached for his plaid wool coat and went out the back door. Edith watched him going out to speak to Collin, who had nearly finished shoveling the sidewalk by now.
“Edith?” called a familiar voice. “Where are you?”
“In the kitchen, Myrtle,” Edith called back.
“Edith,” said Myrtle as she came into the kitchen, “you have a problem.”
“And that would be?”
“There’s a loose board on the stairs, and I nearly fell and broke my neck just now.”
Edith reached out and put a hand on Myrtle’s fleshy forearm. “Are you okay?”
Myrtle, looking slightly indignant, pursed her lips and said, “I think so. But it was quite a scare.”
“Oh, dear. I’m so sorry. Do you recall which board it was?” Edith had come down the stairs herself this morning but hadn’t noticed anything. Of course, Myrtle was quite a bit heavier, so it was possible that her weight had helped to loosen it.
“Second one from the top.”
Edith looked out the window in time to see Charles and Collin driving away in the car. “Oh, dear,” she said again. “I wonder if I could fix it myself.”
Myrtle shook her head. “Not likely. You’ll need to call in a handyman.”
Edith considered this. Usually, she and Charles liked to do as much as possible for themselves, to spare their finances, but then again, if the board was really loose, she couldn’t risk having a guest take a fall. “I’d better go look at it,” she said suddenly. “And perhaps keep people off the stairs until it’s fixed.”
She saw Leslie and Megan just coming down the stairs now. “Did you notice a loose board up there?” she asked.
“As a matter of fact, I did,” said Leslie. “It must’ve just happened, because I don’t recall it wobbling like that before.”
“Oh, dear. I better call a handyman right away.” So Edith got on the phone and dialed Peter Simpson’s number. Peter had occasionally helped them with bigger projects at the inn. As it turned out, Peter was not busy and promised to come right over. Edith hung up the phone and felt better.
“And what are you two doing today?” she asked Leslie and Megan. So far she’d been so busy with the other guests that she’d barely had a chance to talk to these two.
“I’m not sure,” said Leslie, and Megan just shrugged. “We’ve already been to town to see Santa . . . and it’s awfully cold out there today . . .”
“I have an idea,” said Edith, leaning down to look into Megan’s big blue eyes. “Do you like to decorate cookies?”
“With frosting and stuff ?” Megan looked hopeful.
Edith nodded. “Yes, with frosting and stuff.”
“Can I, Mommy?”
Leslie looked at Edith. “Are you sure? I mean, Megan hasn’t had much experience with—”
“I’m sure by the time she finishes, Megan will be an expert. I have about eight dozen sugar cookies in the freezer, all ready to be decorated.” Edith laughed. “Not that I expect Megan to do all of them.”
Leslie smiled. “And if it’s okay, maybe I could help her. I love doing creative things like that.”
“Oh, it’s better than okay. It would help me immensely. In fact, I was just about to invite you, as well as all the female guests at the inn, to come to a rather impromptu baby shower that I’m hosting tomorrow morning.”
“
A baby shower
?” Megan clapped her hands and danced around. “I’ve always wanted to go to a baby shower. Can we, Mommy? Can we?”
Leslie just smiled. “I don’t see why not.” Then she looked at Edith. “But we’ll have to get something for the baby. And I have no idea what to get. Is there a place in town with baby things?”
So Edith explained who the shower was for and that Rudolph’s Five and Dime had a limited selection of baby things and Amy could probably use just about anything. “And can you come too, Myrtle?” she asked the older woman.
“I don’t know . . . I still have a lot to do for the Christmas pageant. And besides,” Myrtle frowned now, “I don’t really like baby showers.”
Megan looked at the old woman in disbelief. “You
don’t
like baby showers? Why not?”
“Too many women in one room, and everyone yakking their heads off, all at once. Just gets on my nerves.”
Edith tried not to look too relieved as she patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Myrtle. I understand completely.”
“I guess I could pick up something for the baby though.” She grimly shook her head. “Poor child . . .”
“How about if Megan and I make a quick run to town now?” said Leslie with excitement in her voice. “We’ll find something for the baby, then get back here to do cookies.”
“Sounds like a great plan.”
Edith posted a sign warning guests about the second stair tread and then went into the kitchen to get things ready for cookie decorating. She would cover the dining room table with waxed paper and just leave all the frostings and other tempting goodies out there in case any other guests wished to participate. It was the way she’d always done it with her own children, and usually, by the end of the day, the cookies were all decorated, although at final head count there were always quite a few missing in action.
After getting things ready for cookie decorating, Edith turned on her computer. She’d learned how to make cards at her last computer class, and so she found the right program, picked a baby graphic, and wrote out a very simple invitation that she neatly folded and addressed and slipped under the doors of all the women at the inn. Silly perhaps, since she’d already informed more than half of them. But it made the shower seem more special to go to this little bit of extra trouble. Amy emerged from the basement just as Edith was returning to the kitchen.
“Oh, do you need help?” offered Edith when she saw how off balance the very pregnant Amy looked while carrying a full basket of clean and folded clothes.
“I’m okay,” said Amy. “But maybe you could get the door for me.”
So Edith went ahead of Amy, opening and closing doors until they reached the bus, and this time it was not quite as laborious since Collin had made a clean path right up to the bus’s door. “Oh, yes,” said Edith as she opened the door. “Charles and Collin went to get parts for the engine. I hope you don’t mind.”
“That’s great.” Amy smiled. “You guys are great. And I totally love your laundry room. You have so much counter space and stuff,” she held the basket up proudly, “that I actually folded our clothes for a change. Collin will be surprised.”
“That’s nice.”
“I still have one more load down there in the dryer, but my back was starting to ache so—”
“Don’t worry about it. You go in there and have a little rest. We don’t want you wearing yourself out, or going into labor, especially since your baby shower is scheduled for tomorrow morning.”
Amy let out a happy squeal. “That is so totally cool!”
Edith nodded. “I’d better get back now.” But as she walked back to the inn, heading for the front door to make sure that the steps had been properly deiced, she couldn’t help but agree with Amy. It was
so totally cool
!
Before Edith reached the front porch, she heard loud female voices arguing. They sounded as if they were coming from the direction of the church. She turned to see Myrtle and Olive, face-to-face, near the side door that led to the church kitchen, in what appeared to be some kind of standoff. She paused to watch them for a moment, and as the volume of their voices elevated, she grew seriously concerned that this argument might actually come to blows. She hurried across the street to see if she could help.
“You are not going to bring a bunch of stinking farm animals into this church!” shouted Olive. “I forbid it.”
“Who died and made you God?” spat Myrtle.
“Edith!” exclaimed Olive when she saw her approaching. “Help me out with this lunatic.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Edith, fearing that she was already in over her head.
“This woman,” said Olive dramatically, “wants to bring
live
animals into our church, the house of God—chickens and pigs and—”
“I
never
said pigs!” argued Myrtle. “I only thought it would make the pageant more interesting to have live animals, and I talked to a fellow on the phone this morning who said—”
“We are not going to have animals in church!” shouted Olive. “And the sooner you get that into your thick head, the better!”
“What makes you think that
you
get to make all the decisions?” demanded Myrtle with her feet spread apart and hands on hips.
“Because I’m the one in charge.”
“Says who?”
Olive let out an exasperated groan and turned to Edith. “Please, Edith, do something! Or do I need to call Pastor Charles? This is really your fault, you know. Myrtle is your guest, and you’ve allowed her to help.”
“So, she’s been helping you?” asked Edith weakly.
“Helping me?” Olive practically shrieked. “With help like this, I might as well go out and hang myself.”
“Oh, Olive . . .” Edith sighed. “There must be some way to resolve this.”
“Yes!” said Olive. “And that’s to tell her
no
farm animals.” Then she turned and marched into the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.
“Are the children around?” asked Edith in a quiet voice.
“No,” said Myrtle, still clearly unhappy. “They won’t be here for another twenty minutes.” Now she looked at Edith. “And how do you think the children would react to having live animals?” she asked. “Do you think they would enjoy feeling the nose of a fuzzy donkey or rubbing their hands through the thick curly wool of a sheep?”
Edith considered this. “Well, yes, I’d have to agree with you there, Myrtle. Kids love animals.”
Myrtle smiled as if she had the upper hand now. “And if having animals around was good enough for the baby Jesus, I can’t see how they could do much harm to a church, can you?”
“Well, no. Not actually . . . but then there’s Olive . . . and she’s dead set against it, Myrtle. And, really, she’s the one who’s supposed to be in charge. You’re only supposed to be helping her.” Edith was actually wringing her hands, something she hadn’t done since childhood. “Please, Myrtle, can’t you try to get along with her—for the sake of the children?”