Chapter
! Six #
“Idon’t think this is such a good idea, Lucy,” complained Bill. He was standing in front of the mirror in the bedroom and fiddling with a necktie. “I can’t believe I wore a tie every day back in the city. This thing is an instrument of torture.”
“You look very nice,” said Lucy, adjusting the tie and giving him a little kiss.
“I can’t really take the time,” he continued. “Why don’t you and Toby go and I’ll finish insulating the nursery?”
Lucy held his jacket for him. “Don’t be silly. It’s the last Sunday before Christmas and we haven’t been to church even once. It will give you some Christmas spirit.”
“I’ve got plenty of Christmas spirit,” said Bill, slipping his arms into the sleeves.
Lucy set her jaw in a stubborn expression. “Well, I want to hear the carols,” she said, pulling the jacket up over his shoulders and smoothing it out. “Do it for me.”
Bill rolled his eyes. “You are a stubborn woman, Lucy Stone.”
Lucy’s temper flared. “I don’t think …”
“But I love you anyway,” he said, silencing her with a kiss.
When they arrived at the little white Community Church with the tall steeple they found it was bursting at the seams 336
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but people cheerfully slid down the pews and squeezed together to make room for everyone. Lucy assumed the crowd was made of folks her mother called “Christmas and Easter Christians,” people who only came to church on holidays, a group which Lucy had to acknowledge she and Bill had joined. But a quick perusal of the bulletin revealed that the usual sermon would be replaced by the Sunday School’s annual pageant, a local tradition which brought entire families out in force. She nudged Bill, who was holding Toby in his lap, and pointed out the notation.
“It ought to be really cute,” she whispered.
“Hmph,” said Bill.
But even he was smiling when the children, dressed as shepherds, advanced down the aisle, some holding stuffed lambs and other animals, including a few neon colored Care Bears, and arranged themselves in a tableau vivant around the teenagers playing Mary and Joseph. Mary was keeping a nervous eye on baby Jesus, who was a real baby, and Joseph seemed ready to flee; Lucy wondered if they were presenting a more accurate version of the actual events than they knew.
The arrival of the youngest children, dressed as angels in white robes and homemade wings, with tinsel haloes, was greeted with coos from the congregation, and everyone joined in singing “Away in a Manger.” Then came the Three Wise Men, a trio of high school girls with fake beards, robes, and turbans made out of upholstery material (Lucy recognized the pattern as one her mother had chosen years ago for a slip cover) accompanied by the singing of “We Three Kings,”
which was followed by Lucy’s favorite, “Silent Night.” When it was over the entire congregation burst into applause. This was new to Lucy, and an indication that it had indeed been some time since she had been to church and things had changed while she’d been away.
When the service was over most people trooped down the aisle to the front of the church where there was a door lead— CANDY CANES OF CHRISTMAS PAST
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ing to the parish hall where coffee was served. Bill started to go in the opposite direction, but Lucy stopped him.
“Let’s get a cup of coffee,” she pleaded. “Maybe we’ll meet some people.”
Bill was less than enthusiastic. “Aw, Lucy… .”
She cut him off. “It won’t kill you to be sociable, you know,” she said, taking Toby by the hand and marching down the aisle. Bill followed, a glum expression on his face.
The parish room was crowded and there was a happy buzz as adults greeted each other and children, still dressed in their shepherd and angel costumes, dashed around and helped themselves to more cookies than was wise before lunch. Appetites would certainly be spoiled, thought Lucy, accepting a Styrofoam cup of rather weak looking coffee. She chose a plain sugar cookie for Toby and looked around for a familiar face. Bill, she noticed, was already deep in conversation with a man she recognized from the lumber yard. She was sipping her coffee and feeling rather hurt that he hadn’t thought to include her in the conversation when she saw the Miller twins approaching her.
“So nice to see you, Lucy,” said Emily.
“And Toby, too,” said Ellie. “Maybe he can be in the pageant next year. He’ll be old enough to be an angel.”
“He will have to be quite an actor to pull that off,” said Lucy, remembering the previous day’s tantrum.
The two ladies’ eyebrows shot up in surprise, then Ellie smiled. “It’s a joke, dear,” she told her sister. “Just look at that angelic little face.”
Lucy looked at Toby, trying to see him through another’s eyes. He was angelic looking, she realized, with his blond curls and pink cheeks. “Thank you,” she said. “It was a lovely pageant. I really enjoyed it.”
“They do it every year,” said Emily. “It’s always the same.”
“And it’s always wonderful,” said Ellie. “We were in it, years ago.”
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“Ellie got to be Mary,” complained Emily. “It wasn’t fair.”
“Emily was supposed to be Joseph,” said Ellie. “She wasn’t happy about it.”
“No, I wasn’t. I got Hannah Sprout to take my place. Oh, my goodness, here she comes.”
Lucy watched as a tall, gray-haired woman in a bright red suit with a Christmas brooch pinned on the shoulder crossed the room. “Good morning, ladies,” she said, looking curiously at Lucy. “Wonderful pageant, wasn’t it?”
“We were just telling Lucy here, oh, this is Lucy Stone and her little boy Toby. They moved into the old farmhouse on Red Top Road.”
“Nice to meet you, Lucy. I’m Hannah Sprout.”
“We were telling Lucy about the time you had to play Joseph in the pageant because Emily wouldn’t wear that beard.”
“I don’t blame her one bit,” said Hannah. “That thing was scratchy. But, my word, that was a long time ago. We were just kids.”
“Actually, Lucy’s interested in the old days,” said Emily.
“She was asking about your mother.”
Hannah turned to face Lucy. “Mother? What do you want to know about her?”
Toby was pulling on Lucy’s hand so she picked him up and balanced him on her hip. She was beginning to put one and one together. Hannah Sprout, she realized, must be Helen Sprout’s daughter.
“Was your mother a cook? Did she work for Judge Tilley?”
asked Lucy.
“She sure did. But why do you want to know about that?
That was ages ago. Before the World War.”
“I’m doing a bit of research. I’m trying to write a sort of Upstairs, Downstairs sort of thing.”
“For TV?” Hannah’s eyes were big.
“Possibly,” said Lucy, relieved to see Bill coming toward CANDY CANES OF CHRISTMAS PAST
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her. Toby was squirming in her arms and her back was beginning to hurt. She greeted him with a big smile, handing over Toby as she introduced him to the ladies.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked, perching Toby on his shoulders.
“Actually, I’d like to chat a bit more. Would you mind taking Toby outside to play?”
“Take him to the general store,” suggested Emily.
“They have penny candy,” said Ellie.
“You have to go to Country Cousins after church,” added Hannah. “It’s the Eleventh Commandment.”
Bill knew when he was beat. “Okay,” he said, nodding at Lucy. “I’ll meet you at the car in ten minutes.”
“Every mother deserves a break now and then,” said Hannah, nudging Lucy.
“A break, that’s right, a break,” chorused Ellie and Emily.
“So tell me about your mother,” said Lucy. “Did she ever talk to you about Judge Tilley and his wife?”
“All the time,” said Hannah. “It was so sad, you see. ‘That poor woman,’ she used to say. ‘How she suffers!’ She was talking about Mrs. Tilley, of course. She was very ill and nobody, really, was taking care of her. The judge was occupied with important matters and the two daughters, well, Mother always said she thought Mrs. Tilley kept her true condition from them, didn’t want them to worry or fuss. Not that it did her a lot of good, considering how that wicked Harriet ran off with that labor union fellow, eloped she did, and I don’t think she was ever heard of again. But it wasn’t until the judge finally hired that nurse that things began to improve. A blessing that was, at least that’s what Mother used to say.”
“Did your mother ever talk about Mrs. Tilley’s accident?”
“Did she? She talked about nothing else for the longest time. She was devastated, you see, because she wasn’t there.
The cellar stairs were right off the kitchen, you see, and if she’d been there she could have stopped her from going 340
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down. She never would have let her attempt those stairs, not if she was there, but it was Christmas Eve and the judge told her to go home to her own family.”
“Was the judge usually that considerate of the staff?”
asked Lucy.
“Now that you mention it, he certainly was not. He made sure he got every cent’s worth he could out of them, and more.” Hannah leaned closer. “Mother didn’t think much of him,” she whispered. “Not that she actually came out and said it in so many words but I got the idea that the judge was having an affair with that secretary of his.”
Emily and Ellie nodded and chimed in, encouraged by Hannah’s frankness. “She was a fast one,” said Ellie.
“Put on airs,” sniffed Emily.
“I heard she went to the beauty salon every morning to get her hair combed,” said Lucy.
“She did worse than that,” crowed Hannah.
“She did?” Emily and Ellie were all ears.
“Now, remember, this was a long time ago, when people felt differently about what we call single mothers nowadays.
They used to be called unwed mothers and that was most certainly not a term of approval.” Hannah nodded knowingly. “But a week or so before poor Mrs. Tilley finally got her blessed release and went to her heavenly reward, that secretary left town for six months or more to care for a sick relative.”
“Ooh,” said Emily, her mouth round with shock.
“I never,” added Ellie, with a sharp intake of breath.
“So you think she was pregnant, with Judge Tilley’s child?” asked Lucy.
Hannah winked. “Oh, I never said that.”
“Oh, no,” said Emily, shaking her head.
“No, not at all,” said Ellie, pursing her lips.
“I see,” said Lucy, understanding that in this case no meant yes. Then she remembered Bill, who was waiting for CANDY CANES OF CHRISTMAS PAST
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her outside, in the cold. “I’ve got to get going, but thanks for all the information. It’s been very interesting.”
“Oh, yes, interesting,” said Emily, nodding.
“Very interesting,” said Ellie, licking her lips.
Lucy took her time walking around the church to the lot where Bill had parked the car. She rarely had a moment to herself and she was determined to make the most of it. A couple of inches of snow had fallen overnight and the reflected sunlight made everything bright. It wasn’t too cold, though, and she was enjoying the fresh air and the quiet, as the snow muffled sounds.
She was thinking how strange it was that Judge Tilley’s affair with his secretary was still a delicate subject, almost as if it had happened yesterday instead of fifty or more years ago.
And even stranger, that their love child had remained a secret to many people for all those years. She was especially curious about the fact that even though Katherine Kaiser’s child was born around the time of Mrs. Tilley’s death, the lovers had not gotten married. Why not? They could have waited for a decent interval, tied the knot, and then added the child to their family claiming it was adopted. But the fact that hadn’t happened seemed to indicate the need to continue keeping their relationship a secret. And that, Lucy thought, could have been because the judge didn’t want people talking and speculating about his wife’s death. It might have appeared a bit too convenient, and might have drawn attention to the judge and his mistress as possible murderers. And then there was the fact that he had dismissed Mrs. Sprout early on Christmas Eve. Did he want her out of the way?
Lost in thought, Lucy would have walked by the car if Bill hadn’t honked. Startled, she jumped, then climbed in beside him. Toby was sitting in his car seat, contentedly nibbling on a long pretzel stick. “Two cents at the general store,” said Bill, with an approving nod.
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“Quite a bargain,” said Lucy.
Bill shifted into reverse and backed out of the parking space. “So what were you thinking about? Christmas? The baby? You were miles away, you know.”
“Both,” said Lucy, smiling at Bill and rubbing her tummy.
She hardly wanted to admit she was thinking about a scandal and murder. “Weren’t those kids cute?” she asked.
Back home, Lucy decided to leave the pea soup in the fridge and splurged by making tuna-melt sandwiches for lunch.
Toby could barely keep his eyes open to finish his and Lucy gratefully settled him down for what she hoped would be a long nap. Then, ignoring Bill’s suggestion that she strip the ugly old wallpaper in the hall, she picked up the phone and called Sue.
“Sorry I missed your call yesterday, I was napping,” said Lucy.
“Good for you. I was wondering if you’d like to grab some coffee tomorrow morning. At Jake’s, maybe?”
“Sure,” said Lucy. “Ten? Eleven?”
“Let’s make it ten-thirty,” said Sue. “The place quiets down around then.”
“Great,” said Lucy, who was already looking forward to their get-together. “Gee,” she added, in a burst of candor, “this is pathetic. I can’t tell you how excited I am about actually having some place to go and getting out of the house.”
“I hear you,” said Sue. “Sometimes I just pack my bag and head to my mother’s for a night, just to get some time to myself.”
Lucy felt a stab of jealousy. “Does she live nearby?”
“Boston. Close enough, but not too close, if you know what I mean. The drive’s long enough that I have time to decompress, get rid of that ‘I’d like to kill my husband’ feeling.”
Lucy was a bit shocked by Sue’s frankness. “Doesn’t your husband mind when you leave?”
“No. To tell the truth, I think he enjoys it. I mean, he prob— CANDY CANES OF CHRISTMAS PAST
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ably wants to kill me sometimes, too, impossible as that seems.”
“Not that impossible,” said Lucy. “I think that if anybody was counting they’d discover that lots more wives are killed by their husbands than vice versa.”
“I know,” agreed Sue. “And I can never quite understand.
Take that awful guy in Boston who shot his wife and killed her and then shot himself to make it seem like they were attacked by some entirely innocent black man—all that fuss when he could have just filed for divorce.”
“Divorce is no picnic, either,” said Lucy. “Imagine thinking you’re in a perfectly happy marriage and then one fine day, your husband looks at you over the morning paper and says ‘Honey, it’s been great, but I’ve found this hot little chick and I like her much better than you, she never nags me about taking out the trash like you do, so what do you say we get a divorce?’ ”
Sue laughed. “I see your point. If he shoots you, well, he’s a real bastard and all, but at least you can go to your death without feeling like a failure because he’s having an affair.”
“Yeah,” agreed Lucy, thinking of Judge Tilley’s insistence on maintaining appearances. “Like it was a perfect marriage right up to the moment he killed you.” From the distance, she heard Bill calling her. “Gotta go save my marriage by stripping the wallpaper in the front hall.”
“Honey, you’d do better to strip yourself.”
“Point taken,” said Lucy. “See you tomorrow.”