Home for the Holidays Read online

  “Is something troubling them?” Jane asked Hope.

  Louise set down her menu. “Now, Jane …”

  “I’m just asking.” She handed her menu to the waitress. “From the sound of things, they’re having some kind of difficulty.”

  “Well, from what I’ve heard, their tour guide slipped on a patch of ice just after they got to town yesterday,” the waitress said. “They had to take him over to the hospital. They came back today, expecting a new guide, but no one showed up. I don’t think the company running the tour has anyone to fill in.”

  “I remember that gentleman coming up on my ward last night,” Alice said. “He’s going to be fine, but his ankle was fractured in two places. The doctor had to put him in a heavy leg cast, so he won’t be able to walk on it for some time.”

  “How terrible!” Louise felt a pang of guilt over her earlier thoughts. Of course, the group had the right to be upset. She just wished they would discuss their problem somewhere else, away from her highly sympathetic and susceptible sisters.

  Jane gave her order for a bowl of chili with a side salad, and then asked, “Do you know whose homes they were scheduled to tour, Hope?”

  “June said that the Bellwoods’ and Miss Reed’s were two of them.” The waitress turned to Louise. “What can I get for you, Mrs. Smith?”

  After she placed her order, Louise tried to block out the continued grumbling coming from the tourists’ table by discussing holiday plans with her sisters. This year she had her heart set on getting out to visit more of their friends, and on participating in some of the community gatherings and celebrations.

  Despite her efforts, however, both Jane’s and Alice’s attention—particularly Jane’s—kept drifting over to the five unhappy faces around the other table.

  “I know what you two are thinking,” Louise said after they had finished lunch. “Have you forgotten that we promised ourselves this vacation? And how hard we have worked to arrange it?”

  “I know, Louise. It’s just …” Alice searched for the right words.

  “It’s Christmas,” Jane answered for her, “and we should do something.”

  Louise sighed. She loved her sisters dearly, but sometimes they exasperated her to no end. “What can we possibly do for these people?”

  “Well, one of us could fill in for their guide,” Jane said.

  “It wouldn’t take much time to show them around,” Alice said, very tentatively. “Perhaps an hour here and there at the most.” When Louise did not reply, she added, “We could take turns.”

  Her silver eyebrows rose. “You are assuming that you already have my participation.”

  “Oh, come on, Louise. We were planning to visit our friends anyway, weren’t we?” Jane flipped her ponytail over her shoulder as she sat back. “If we take them around, it’ll just be like visiting. Only we’ll be bringing some extra people with us.”

  “I fear it may not be that simple.” Louise placed her napkin next to her plate. “The group is obviously expecting a professionally guided tour, something none of us is really qualified to provide.”

  “Well, we could tell them up front that we’re simply good Samaritans and not professional tour guides.” Her youngest sister put her hand over hers. “Please, Louise. ’Tis the season, let’s help make these poor folks feel jolly.”

  Louise cast another doubtful glance at the group. Some of them did not look very pleasant, particularly the biggest man.

  “It would be the Christian thing to do,” Alice added gently.

  Louise did not consider herself a selfish woman, and she did believe in being a good Christian and helping people whenever she could.

  Just not this week.

  Yet there was no way she could look at her sisters’ hopeful faces, or the dejected ones at the other table, and not feel selfish.

  “Oh, very well. We can offer to help.” When Alice and Jane started to talk at the same time, Louise held up one hand. “I only want you both to remember something: Taking a group of strangers around to see other people’s homes was not my idea of how we should spend our vacation.”

  “Don’t be such a worrywart,” Jane chided. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

  Since Jane had been the one to propose the idea, she volunteered to be the one to approach the group about their dilemma. She was also more outgoing with strangers than Alice was and more at ease with them than was Louise.

  “We didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Jane said after she had walked over and exchanged greetings with the group, “but my sisters and I couldn’t help overhearing your discussion. If you’d like, we’d be happy to take you around on the home tour.”

  “That’s a very kind offer,” Allan Hansford said as his white mustache framed his smile. He had introduced himself as a retired architect, and like her older sister he had very keen, light blue eyes. “But we don’t want to put anyone to any trouble.”

  “It’s better than sitting around the hotel doing nothing,” Max Ziglar said. His strong features were filled with as much dreariness as his deep voice. “There’s nothing in it for you, though.”

  Jane frowned. “We’re not expecting anything, sir.”

  “What Max is trying to say is that if you’re thinking of charging us for the pleasure, you can forget it,” said Laura Lattimer as she reapplied lipstick that matched her fingernails, handbag and bright red designer outfit perfectly. She had said she was an interior decorator. “I’ve already spent too much money on this trip.”

  “Max, Laura, please,” Edwina Welles said, her tone as gently reproving as only an experienced grammar-school teacher’s could be. She gave Jane an apologetic look. “We’re all a little tired, I’m afraid. We’ve spent so much time cooped up in the van, and now to face the return trip without so much as a break …” she moved her shoulders. “I have to admit, I’m not looking forward to it either. Still, there’s not much we can do, under the circumstances.”

  “I’m not going to sit in a hotel,” Max insisted, tapping one finger against the tabletop. “Either the company provides a replacement or I’m staying here for at least the day.”

  “I guess even a walk around town beats staring at four hotel room walls,” Ted admitted.

  “You’ll just end up spending more money,” Laura predicted. “If this lady doesn’t get any out of you.”

  “I understand how you feel.” Jane was starting to wonder, though, if Max Ziglar ever smiled or if Laura Lattimer even understood the definition of Christian charity. “Please be assured that my sisters and I don’t want to charge you anything. We’re going to be visiting the homes on your tour anyway: The people who own them are our friends. We only wanted to offer our help.” She met Max’s dark gaze. “Absolutely free of charge.”

  “Well, I’m all for it.” Ted Venson checked the snap on the case of his camera before hanging it around his neck. He pushed his thick-lensed glasses higher on the bridge of his prominent nose before he added, “I need to take at least three more rolls of film to round out my portfolio and these homes are rumored to be the best on the tour. I’m really looking forward to shooting them.”

  “Are you a professional photographer, Mr. Venson?” Jane asked.

  “Not exactly,” he admitted. “I work in the camera section of a department store and I take portrait photographs. You know, cute babies, families and so on. But I do my own photography on the side, and I’d like to go freelance and start selling my own work to magazines and publishers.”

  “Freelancing.” Max’s voice went heavy with disapproval. “You can’t support a wife and family when you don’t have a steady paycheck coming in, boy. You’d do better to forget this artistic nonsense and hold on to that job of yours.”

  “Oh, I am.” Ted touched the gold wedding band on his left hand and a pained expression came over his face. “This is one last shot at my dream. If I can’t sell these photos, I’ll stick to family portraits.”

  Jane felt sympathy for the young man. When she had left home, she had
pursued her own dreams with a single-minded intensity. But she knew that not everyone could have that opportunity.

  “If you’re certain this won’t put out you or your sisters, then I’d be delighted to have you as our guides,” Allan said.

  “So would I.” Edwina leaned to the side and smiled over at Louise and Alice, who were watching them.

  The big businessman subjected Jane to another long, silent stare. Obviously he was reluctant to trust her, Jane thought, but why? What makes you so suspicious of people, Max Ziglar?

  “Max, it would seem that we’ve been outvoted.” Laura put her lipstick away and gave Jane a decidedly narrow look. “I do hope this is not going to be a complete waste of my time. That is one thing I absolutely cannot abide. My time is precious and, truth be told, I’d rather spend it back in the city.”

  For a moment the interior decorator reminded Jane of Florence Simpson, one of the more difficult women at church. Florence was the type who would not only look a gift horse in the mouth, but would hold off accepting it until she had weighed, measured and X-rayed it. And only then if it came with an appraisal.

  “We’ll do our best, Miss Lattimer. Let me bring my sisters over now so you can meet them.” Laura’s haughty remark made her repeat what she had told her sisters. “I think this will be a terrific experience for all of us.”

  “I think this will be a complete disaster for all of you,” was the prediction Ethel Buckley made that evening over dinner at the inn.

  Alice looked over at Louise, who seemed to be in silent agreement, and at Jane, who had a decidedly militant gleam in her eyes. “We haven’t even started yet, Aunt Ethel.”

  “If you had the sense the good Lord gave a rabbit, Alice Howard, you’d call the whole thing off.”

  “Stop being so optimistic, Auntie,” Jane said. “All this enthusiasm and confidence will make our expectations skyrocket.”

  Her aunt glared. “What were you girls thinking, agreeing to take on this tour group? You don’t know anything about these people and you’re certainly not responsible for them. They hired a company to bring them here for a tour. Why aren’t they doing something about it? What sort of tour is this?”

  “From what I understand, this is the first time the tour company has scheduled a Christmas homes tour to visit Acorn Hill. This group is being used as a test for the town, to decide if they want to bring their groups here on a regular route.” Louise unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap. “The tour begins in Philadelphia and makes several visits to different towns over a period of ten days. The group pays a reasonable package price, which includes hotel accommodations and transportation.”

  “How did they decide on what houses to visit here in Acorn Hill?” Ethel asked.

  “The company ran an ad in the Acorn Nutshell, inviting locals to make their homes available for the tour,” Alice said. “In exchange, the company will make a donation in the host’s name to Toys for Tots.”

  “It’s a nice idea and could turn out to be good for the inn,” Jane said. “If the tour company is looking for an annual package deal for accommodations, we might be able to offer them a discounted rate and have their groups stay here.”

  “If they are small groups,” Louise added.

  “Business is one thing, but I still don’t see how not having a guide for these people has suddenly become your responsibility,” their aunt insisted.

  “It’s Christmas, Aunt,” Alice reminded her as she passed around the cloth-covered basket of hot rolls. “They’re visitors to our town, they’ve had some bad luck and now we’re simply trying to help out the poor souls.”

  “Poor souls, my Aunt Frances.” Ethel snorted. “June told me that Ziglar fellow wears a fancy tie clip with a diamond the size of a golf ball. She also said that he paid for his lunch from a roll of bills that was three inches thick.”

  “June should have her eyes checked. The diamond was barely a full carat.” Louise steepled her fingers. “What, pray tell, has Max Ziglar’s wealth to do with whether or not we show them around, Aunt?”

  “Only that it’s obvious he could buy and sell this town, and yet he’s accepting charity from you girls. And I’m not even sure he deserves it.” Ethel took a roll and passed the basket to Jane. “No rich man can be a good Christian. Jesus told that to a wealthy young man in Mark, chapter ten, verse twenty-three.”

  “Jesus said it was hard for the rich to enter the kingdom of God,” Alice corrected. “I taught a Bible study lesson about wealth and Christianity to my ANGELs before Thanksgiving.

  “That sounds about right to me,” Jane said.

  “You’re really determined to do this.” Ethel put down her roll and looked around the table. “None of you have ever given a homes tour before, have you? How are you going to do it? When do you start?”

  “We’re going to discuss that now,” Alice said.

  “Let me get the brochure Mrs. Welles gave me.” Jane rose and retrieved her purse from the counter, then brought the pamphlet back to the table. “There are four houses on the tour,” she said, reading from the back. “Those of Viola Reed, Joseph and Rachel Holzmann, Mayor Lloyd Tynan, and Samuel and Rose Bellwood.” She handed the tour literature to Louise. “We should be able to do all of them in three days, don’t you think?”

  “Three days? Is that enough time to visit three houses and a farm?” Ethel frowned, then inched her chair closer to Louise’s so that she could read over her niece’s shoulder.

  “I believe that if the weather holds, we should be able to complete the entire tour in three days with little difficulty,” Louise said.

  “Good.” Alice had been worried about the time schedule.

  “This says four days in the beautiful town of Acorn Hill,” Ethel read from the brochure.

  “The tour here was originally planned for four days plus extra time in the area for shopping and resting up,” Jane clarified, “but the group lost a day because their guide was injured and they have to return to the city on Saturday. That’s why we agreed to start tomorrow.”

  “We should each take the group for one day,” Louise said. “Alice, since you have to prepare to take your ANGELs out caroling tomorrow, I’ll accompany the group to Viola’s in the morning, and the Holzmanns’ in the afternoon. You can take them to Mayor Tynan’s on Thursday morning, and Jane can escort them to the Bellwoods’ on Friday evening while you and I go to the children’s ward party at the hospital.”

  “That seems reasonable to me.” The phone at the reception desk rang, and as Jane was already up, she left the kitchen to answer it.

  “Doing this will cut your vacation in half,” Ethel persisted.

  “Not precisely,” Louise said.

  “This was Jane’s idea, wasn’t it?” Their aunt glanced at the door. “I thought you closed the inn for the holidays so that you could have this time together as a family. Now you’re letting Jane waste it looking after a bunch of people who aren’t even staying at your inn.”

  “We’ll still have plenty of time for our vacation, Aunt Ethel,” Alice assured her. “It’s only for three days and then they’ll be on their way home.”

  “I don’t know, Alice.” Her aunt shook her head slowly. “I have a very bad feeling about this.”

  “Alice, it’s a Mr. Baldwin for you,” Jane said as she came back into the kitchen. Her aunt was still looking rather peevish, so she retrieved the small jelly roll cake she had made for dessert and brought it to the table. “Here, Auntie. Have some cake. It’s low fat.”

  Ethel sighed. “You always say that, but my hips always look bigger in the morning. I’ll have to walk to town tomorrow to work off the calories.” Her aunt gave into temptation and helped herself to a thin slice. “Oh, by the way, Jane, you haven’t said a word about what you’d like to have for Christmas yet.”

  Your unconditional support for anything I decide to do for the next calendar year, thought Jane. “Anything would be just fine,” she said.

  “Anything is not specific eno
ugh.” Ethel waved her fork for emphasis. “Anything could be anything, from a black velvet painting of The Last Supper to a red and yellow beanie hat with a propeller attached to the crown.”

  “I’m allergic to black velvet,” Louise said at once.

  Jane turned around from the stove and feigned surprise. “Really? Since when?”

  “Since people stopped wearing it and started painting portraits of the Lord and Elvis Presley on it.” Louise winced as she regarded their aunt. “Nothing with a propeller attached, Aunt Ethel. I beg you.”

  “You see?” Ethel spread her hands and put on her best martyred look as she turned back to Jane. “You have to give me a better idea before I get into trouble with your sister.”

  It didn’t help that what Jane wanted for Christmas was one thing she could never have.

  “I have everything I could possibly want,” she said at last. “A little something for the kitchen or garden will do fine.”

  Alice returned in time to overhear the latter, and gave Louise an odd look before she sat down. “That was Mr. Baldwin from the tour company. He wanted to express his appreciation for our taking charge of the group. He’s going to e-mail the tour literature to us and has offered to pay us the standard rate one of his guides would receive.”

  “The literature will be very helpful,” Louise said, “but it’s not necessary to compensate us.”

  “Take the money, Louise,” her aunt said. “By this time tomorrow, you’ll probably feel like you’ve earned it.”

  Jane was a little surprised when her oldest sister shook her head. She knew Louise was only going along with the idea because she and Alice had cajoled her into it.

  “This is the season of giving, especially to people in need,” Louise said. “We’ll take this opportunity to be Good Samaritans.”

  “All right.” Ethel shook her head. “I only hope you don’t end up needing some charity yourselves.”