A December to Remember (48)
“Me too, with you.” He smiled.
Again, the sensation of wanting to kiss him swept over her, but she squashed it down and said, “Good night, then, see you in the morning.”
He nodded. “Till then,” he replied before turning and striding back toward the pub.
Star let out her longing in a low whistle and hurried into the house.
22
By late afternoon on Saturday the strongbox lay completely empty. The contents had been methodically examined by the sisters and classified according to their usefulness to the task at hand.
A clothbound scrapbook held a trove of winter solstice information, including the traditional drink served at the occasion—wassail—and lists of the kinds of foods to be served at the banquet, along with the route that the old processions had taken. It was an enormous task to master in very little time, but at last they were beginning to pull together, and their squabbles per day had dwindled to single figures.
Duncan was working at his desk. The loupe around his neck was almost a permanent feature, and was held so often to his eye it might have been a monocle. Already it was hard to imagine the place without him methodically perusing the aisles, his long fingers appraising its treasures.
A banging on the door so loud it made the windows rattle shattered their quiet contemplation.
“Oh god, it’s not Stu again, is it?” Simone groaned. “I’m going to call the police if it is.” She was a little ashamed that she was rather hoping it was Stu, just so she had an excuse to shout at someone.
“If it is, I’ll call them myself,” said Star. The words were tough, but Simone could see she was on edge, biting the skin at the side of her nail.
Maggie pushed herself up and made her way to the front of the shop, her sisters following behind.
She pulled the blind up and was greeted by Verity’s cross little face scowling in at her. Maggie laughed and opened the door.
“Hello, my angry cherub, what brings you here?”
Behind her, Joe shrugged his shoulders. “She made me do it,” he said apologetically. “She is really assertive.”
“That she is,” Maggie said proudly, and then turning back to her daughter’s upturned face, she asked, “Okay, what’s up?”
“You promised we would put the Christmas decorations up, Mama.” Verity harrumphed and folded her arms, no easy feat in a duffle coat.
“And we will. But first I needed to take care of some things with Aunty Simone and Aunty Star.”
Verity’s fierce face was so sweet Simone could hardly bear it. She was much like Maggie in looks, thick auburn ringlets that stuck out at all angles and fell around her heart-shaped face. And those brilliant green eyes were all North family. Her heart squeezed. Would she ever get to be somebody’s mama? Her body’s treachery had caused her to hanker after all the things that most parents grumbled about: She wanted to be nagged by a tired child, to have her sleeve pulled constantly and her name called a hundred times a day. She wanted toddler snot wiped up her jacket and baby vomit down her top and she would never take it for granted. Was that so very much to ask?
Verity, meanwhile, was not to be appeased.
“Are you done with the aunts now?” Hands switched to hips like a mini Monica Geller.
Maggie raised a warning eyebrow, and some of Verity’s bluster deflated.
“I just want to feel Christmassy,” she said quietly.
Maggie pulled her into a hug. “And you will. Come on, then, let’s go home.” She looked around at her sisters. “Sorry, I did promise. I’ll try and get over tomorrow to do some more sorting.”
Verity pulled away from her and turned on her biggest puppy eyes. “Can the aunties come too? Please, Mama?” She peered around Maggie to Star and Simone. “Would you like to help us put up the Christmas decorations? It’s so fun. Mama makes hot chocolate with sprinkles and freezer biscuits, and she always saves the biggest tree from the shop for us. Can they come, Mama?”
“Of course they can.” Maggie smiled. “If they’re not busy.” She turned and smiled apologetically at her sisters. “There’s no pressure. But you are very welcome.”
Part of Simone wanted to run back to the Dalgleish cottage and hide under the bedclothes until morning. But a bigger part of her needed the comfort of being surrounded by her family. Pull up your big-girl pants and make some memories with your niece, she told herself.
“We’d love to!” she said, and was rewarded with Verity’s beaming smile. “But I have a question: What are freezer biscuits?”
“I always keep a batch of uncooked biscuits in the freezer for fresh hot biscuit emergencies,” Maggie answered.
“I can confirm they are excellent,” added Joe. “Maggie’s freezer biscuits are one of the reasons I stay in Rowan Thorp.”
Star leaned over Maggie’s shoulder and stage-whispered, “I bet I know what the other reasons are.”
Maggie tried not to grin and shoved her sister off.
“And Duncan!” Verity piped up. “He needs to come too.”
“Oh, darling, I’m not sure Duncan will want to help decorate our tree.”
“Course he will.” Star’s face lit up. “Duncan!” she called to the back of the shop. “Grab your coat, we’re going to Maggie’s.”