The Mystery Before Christmas

Friday

A quick glance out my bedroom window revealed the fact that the snow had paused at least for the moment. I was enjoying the beauty of the snowy landscape, but I did hope that it would be dry for the tree lighting this evening. Dealing with the cold was going to be hard enough, but if you threw in a heavy snow, the turnout was sure to be affected.

I rolled out of bed and turned on the lights I’d draped around my window. I wasn’t sure why, but every time I looked at the lights, I found myself smiling. So far, this holiday season had been enchanting. Exactly the sort of thing I needed to chase away the last of the self-pity I’d been struggling with since my accident. Life, I decided, was pretty darn perfect. Paisley and I’d decorated the tree in the attic yesterday, and it had turned out amazing. Paisley has a natural eye for color and design, and the tree ended up looking like something you would find in a magazine. Not only did the tree look awesome, but we’d had a lot of fun as well. So much fun, in fact, that when Paisley had shared that her grandmother hadn’t felt up to getting a tree, I’d taken her to the tree lot where we purchased two small trees for Paisley’s grandmother’s house, one for the living room, and one for Paisley’s bedroom. After we set them up, we’d decorated both while Ethel offered decorating advice from the sidelines.

All in all, it had been a fun and relaxing afternoon. It had even gotten Paisley and Ethel talking about the idea of putting some carols on the stereo and baking a batch or two of the gingerbread cookies they’d baked in the past. I could see a glimmer of hope and energy in both their eyes. Having Paisley’s mother ill for so long and then dealing with her death seemed to have been harder on them than I’d realized. I hoped now that the joy of the season had been introduced into their home, the pair would run with it and have the merriest of holidays in spite of their grief.

Today, I planned to track down both Grover Wood and Donnie Dingman. I’d need to finish the interviews for my column before my volunteer shift at the shelter. I planned to write the column this weekend, and then move onto the Secret Santa suspects as soon as I solidified a list of individuals to speak to. In the meantime, there was a wonderful smell coming from downstairs, so perhaps coffee and breakfast were the immediate order of the day.

“Morning, Aunt Gracie,” I greeted as I poured myself a mug of coffee.

“Good morning, dear. How’d you sleep?”

“Really good, actually.”

“I made cinnamon rolls if you’re interested.”

I poured a dollop of cream in my coffee. “I’m always interested in your cinnamon rolls. It seems like you’ve been baking a lot lately.”

“Baking helps me to relax.” She slid a roll from the pan onto a plate and handed it to me.

“Have you been stressed?” I asked, picking up on the subtle clue that baking relaxed her, and she’d been baking up a storm.

“Not really.” She slid a roll onto a plate for herself. “Well, maybe a bit. But it is nothing I want you to worry about.”

Well, now I was worried. “What’s going on?” I asked in what I hoped was my most encouraging tone of voice.

“It’s Nora. She’s been diagnosed with cancer.”

Nora Nottaway was one of Gracie’s best friends. She was a few years younger than Gracie was but close enough in age that they’d always been friends. Both had lived in Foxtail Lake for their entire lives, and they shared a rich and vast history.

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry.” I crossed the room and hugged Gracie. “Is it… Is she…” I was trying to find a way to ask if it was early and therefore treatable, or if it was only a matter of time.

“She is receiving treatment,” Gracie answered, seeming to understand what it was that I’d been trying to ask. “I spoke to Ned this morning, and he seemed to think that Nora is doing just fine, given the circumstances.”

Ned was Nora’s husband. The couple owned and operated the general store.

“I’m really sorry to hear this. Is there anything I can do?”

“Pray. Nora had pneumonia last year, and I feel like she never really fully recovered from it. I will admit to being really worried whether or not her body has the strength to fight this.”

“She seemed fine the last time I saw her.”

“Nora always seems fine,” Gracie answered. “She isn’t the sort to want to share her struggles, which is why you can’t share what I have told you with anyone else. She wants to keep this to herself for now. I shouldn’t have said anything to you, but you were here, and I was feeling down after my conversation with Ned this morning. I guess I just needed someone to talk to.”

I hugged the woman who meant so much to me. The woman who’d always been there for me. “Of course, you can count on me to keep Nora’s secret. And any time you need to talk, I’m here for you. And, of course, I will include Nora as well as Ned in my prayers. If there is anything else I can do, you just need to ask.”

“Thank you, dear. I appreciate that. So, what do you have planned for today?”

Gracie seemed to want to change the subject, so I answered. “I need to interview Grover Wood and Donnie Dingman about their Secret Santa gifts, and then I have my volunteer shift at the shelter. I’m assuming that you and Tom still plan to pick up Ethel and Paisley for the tree lighting?”

“We do.”

“Great, then Cass and I will meet you there. We will probably stop somewhere for dinner after the tree lighting. You are welcome to join us unless it is too late for you.”

“I think it might be too late for Ethel. We’ll just bring them home after the tree lighting, and you and Cass can have your date.”

I wanted to argue that what we were doing was eating and not dating, but it seemed pointless to bother at this point. Gracie knew how I felt about dating. It was the same way she felt. If you were a Hollister and a female, then everyone knew it was best to leave true love and happily ever after to others.

“You know, you might want to add Stephanie Baldwin to your Secret Santa list if you haven’t already,” Gracie said after a minute.

“Did Stephanie receive a Secret Santa gift?”

Gracie nodded. “Ned mentioned it this morning. I guess that Secret Santa had an oven and stovetop delivered to her home. The old one broke more than a month ago, and she couldn’t afford to have it repaired or replaced, so she has been making do without one.”

“That’s really wonderful. I’ll call her. I’d love to include her story in my article.”

“I’m sure she’ll be happy to chat with you. From what I understand, she has been telling everyone about her special gift.”

I got up to refill my coffee mug. “This Secret Santa story has really turned into a big deal for Dex, and I really want to do a good job both for my own career and for Dex, who wants the expanded exposure, but I feel sort of bad that I am actively looking to unmask this man, or woman, who has done so much good for so many people.”

“I suppose that is understandable. It occurred to me that if Secret Santa wanted to be identified, he, or she, wouldn’t be going to so much trouble to remain anonymous.”

“Exactly. But if I refuse to do the story, Dex will just have Brock write it, and Brock won’t hesitate for a minute to unmask Secret Santa if it means a byline in the Post.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, furrowing my brow. “I feel really good about the story I am working on this week, so I guess I’ll just finish it and then try to figure the rest out. I owe it to Dex to tell him if I am going to have a problem with the final article. I mean, if I really don’t think I can write it, I guess I should let him put Brock on it right away. Dex has been so good to me. He has given me a part-time job even though I am in no way qualified to be a newspaper reporter. And if I am going to stay in Foxtail Lake for the long haul, which at this point is exactly what I plan to do, then I really want to earn more hours at the newspaper. I’m hoping Dex will like my work and actually hire me full-time, rather than just paying me as a columnist.”

“It seems like you have a hard choice ahead of you.”

I glanced out the window at the falling snow. “Yeah. I guess I’m going to have to give it some thought.”