The Christmas Bus (15 page)

They were at Helen’s car now, and Helen turned to look at her. “I do mean it, Edith. You know that Dr. Martin is out of town, and I’ve delivered babies before. Although why Amy wants to do a home birth, or should I say
bus birth
, is beyond me.”

“They don’t have insurance,” Edith reminded her. “Plus they’re nearly broke.”

“I know that. But everyone knows how lots of uninsured people take advantage of hospitals without the wherewithal to pay for it. Not that I approve of that, mind you.”

“Maybe Collin and Amy have more scruples than that.”

Helen laughed. “You wouldn’t know that to look at them, now would you?”

“Do you think that’s what folks might’ve said about Mary and Joseph when they came to town, road weary and dusty, looking for a place to stay?”

“I don’t know about that, but you can tell our little Amy to get plenty of rest. I think the festivities might’ve worn her out. And knowing she hasn’t had proper prenatal care is a big concern to me. Insurance or no insurance, that young woman should see an obstetrician before the baby comes.”

“I don’t know what we can do about that. But I’ll encourage her to rest and take it easy.”

But Edith didn’t need to tell Amy to rest. Collin had already come in to collect Amy along with all the baby things, and they were heading out to the bus as Edith came in.

“That was fun,” Amy told Edith. “But my back’s killing me. I’m going to go lie down for a while.”

“Good for you.”

“Thanks again for everything,” Amy called as she and Collin slowly made their way out the back door.

Edith was surprised that Collin didn’t say anything to her. Not even a thank-you for the baby things, which were for his child. And suddenly thoughts of the missing angel flashed through her mind again, but as quickly as they came she dismissed them. It would do no good to dwell on it or to wrongly blame someone like Collin. Like Charles had said, the missing angel would probably show up in time.

By midafternoon, Edith realized that she was actually ahead of herself today. Things from the shower were all cleaned up, daily chores at the inn were complete, and she even had a roast in the Crock-Pot. So she decided to take this time to write her kids a short note on email. She usually did this every other day or so, but due to the busyness at the inn, she was a few days behind. To her delight, she had correspondence from each of them—including Krista, in Maui. All of them expressed sadness about not being home for Christmas. But they had all received their packages, except Krista since she’d already left the mainland, although, Edith suspected by Krista’s ebullient email, being in Maui probably made up for it.

She took her time reading each letter and even printed out the pictures that some of them had sent to show to Charles. Edith still marveled at this new age of technology. But she was thankful to have photos of nine-year-old Jessica’s Christmas recital; Jameson dressed up like Santa, with a lopsided beard, for his kindergarten Christmas program; and baby Allison in her red velvet dress. And, of course, there was Krista standing by a palm tree, looking cute as a button in her bright-colored sundress. Edith hoped she remembered to use sunblock. Krista always burned so easily.

Edith heard voices in the inn as she hit the send button on a rather long letter that she’d written to all four of her kids, telling of the comings and goings at the inn, promising to write more later, and ending the letter with, “It’s not exactly like having my own dear children home with me at Christmas, but it has been interesting. Love always, Mom.” Then she turned off the computer and went out to see who was here.

“Oh, there you are,” said Myrtle. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?” She was setting two large bags from the hardware store on the dining room table.

Mr. Benson put two more beside them. He glanced at Edith and made a slight eye-rolling gesture, as if he’d had it with Myrtle. “Now, if you ladies will excuse me,” he said in a tightly controlled voice, “I’d like to go have a rest in my room.”

“Of course,” said Edith, feeling sorry for the beleaguered man.

Myrtle just shook her head. “Good grief, I didn’t force him to go.”

Edith decided not to tackle that one. “What are these?” She nodded to the bags cluttering her pretty dining room table.

“For the pageant,” Myrtle said as if that explained everything. “Why don’t you leave them at the church?”

“Olive might not like it.”

Now Edith was curious. “Mind if I take a look?”

“No. It’s only to make it more realistic. You know they didn’t have electricity two thousand years ago.”

Edith peeked in a bag to see that it contained some kerosene lanterns and a bottle of kerosene. She frowned as she imagined young children burning their fingers, or the church possibly going up in flames. “Don’t you think this might be a little dangerous in the church?”

“They’re not for in the church. It’s for later.”

“Later?”

“Yes,
later
.”

“Meaning you’re not going to let the children use these in the church during the Christmas pageant tonight?” Edith wanted to be perfectly clear.

“Right.”

“So, why did you get them?”

Myrtle just waved her hand. “Oh, you’ll see. Look, I’ve still got lots to do before the day is over, and my feet are killing me. I need to go put them up for a while.” And she walked away, leaving the four hardware store bags on the table.

Edith just shook her head, then stowed the bags in a small storage closet beneath the stairs. Perhaps Myrtle would forget about the lanterns, since it didn’t seem that she had much use for them, and something that hazardous certainly wasn’t going to be allowed in the church. What was that woman thinking anyway?

14

“Edith?” His voice had a sound of urgency in it.

“In here, Charles,” she called from the kitchen, where she was packaging up some cookies for the pageant.

“Have you seen
this
?” he said as he came through the door.

“What?” She turned to see what he was talking about, and it seemed he had some sort of flyer in his hand.

“This!” He thrust the flyer at her, then ran his hands through his hair, a gesture he reserved for only the most frustrating of times. Usually it had to do with their children getting into mischief or something that had gone seriously wrong at church. It’d been a while since she’d seen him do it.

She studied the pale green paper with handwritten letters. Not very professional looking, almost as if a child had done it. It seemed to be an announcement in regard to the pageant tonight. But it also said that live animals would be involved and that they were having a live nativity afterward and everyone was invited. At the bottom of the flyer was a rough-looking sketch of what appeared to be a manger scene, although the donkey looked more like a miniature elephant. Or maybe it was supposed to be an ox.

“A live nativity?” he said. “Live animals? No one told me.”

“Well, Olive and Myrtle had been arguing about some such thing, but I’m fairly certain that Olive has this under control.”

“Then where did these come from?”

“I don’t know.” Of course, she had a pretty good idea. “It looks as if a child may have done it . . . or perhaps Myrtle.”

“Where is that woman?”

Unused to him using that tone, she felt slightly alarmed. “Now, Charles, we can’t go blaming her if we don’t even know that she’s responsible.”

He sank down into a kitchen chair. “I know, dear. You’re right. It’s just that everyone in town is talking about this and the bus, and then, of course, there’s Myrtle. I’m sure they think we’re all crazy. What am I going to do?”

She put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“You know Olive has been hinting that I’m getting too old to pastor a church,” he said in dismay. “She’s insinuating that I’m losing it, out of touch . . . and now this. I’m afraid she may be right.”

“No, dear, she’s not right. It’s just that, well, things have been a little odd lately.” She kind of laughed. “And it all seemed to shift right after you did your wonderful sermon about showing hospitality.”

He nodded. “Well, maybe the good Lord has a hand in this. But, seriously, what do you think I should do?”

She considered this. “Well, if you ask Olive about it, she might just get upset. I think Myrtle’s up in her room. Maybe we should start there.” So they went upstairs and knocked on Myrtle’s door, but no one answered. Edith looked at her watch. It was nearly four. “Well, Myrtle did tell me she had a lot to do today. I’m not sure what that means, but—”

“Anything wrong?” asked Michael as he and Lauren came up the stairs.

“No,” said Edith. “We’re just looking for Myrtle.”

Michael nodded and smiled as if perhaps he knew something, but he didn’t say anything.

“Do you know where she is?” asked Charles.

Michael kind of grimaced now. “Well, I do . . . but I’m not supposed to tell.”

“Michael?” said Lauren. “What are you talking about?”

“It has to do with that little car trip we took yesterday.”

“Yeah?” Lauren continued the questioning.

“Well, she made me promise not to tell.”

Charles held up the green flyer. “Does it have anything to do with this?”

Michael made a funny little smile that seemed to confirm this. “But don’t worry, she’s got everything all worked out. We actually had a lot of fun setting things up and, well, I really can’t say anything more, but it should be a great evening—if all goes well.”

“If all goes well?” repeated Charles in a weak voice. “Meaning that it might not?”

“Really, Pastor Charles,” Michael assured him. “It’s like you said in church Wednesday night. It’s all just a matter of trust.”

Charles nodded. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

But Edith wasn’t so sure. Oh, it wasn’t that she didn’t trust God. She did. It was just Myrtle who worried her. She considered telling Charles about the lanterns but thought better of it. Poor man had enough on his mind already.

As they went downstairs, he just shook his head. “Well, maybe I need to just take my hands off this,” he said. “It’s not as though I’m the one responsible for the pageant. That’s why I delegate things . . . but sometimes . . .” He turned and looked at Edith. “And as soon as I call Hal Berry and ask him to go remove all these flyers from town, I think I will remain in my study to pray about this matter.”

She smiled. “That sounds like a wise plan. Dinner will be ready around five so that we’ll have plenty of time to, uh, help with the pageant—just in case it’s needed.” Edith hadn’t “helped” with the pageant in years. It had been such a relief when her children were too old for it and she was able to pass the responsibility to another. Then Judy got involved, and Edith had never really given it a second thought, until this year.

Thinking of Judy gave Edith an idea. Surely Judy and her family would be in Christmas Valley by now. Hadn’t Olive said they were coming in time to see the pageant? Perhaps she could give Judy a call and give her a little heads-up about what might or might not happen tonight. She dialed Olive’s number, and to her relief, Judy answered. After dispensing with cordialities, Edith got right to the point. “Judy, I wanted to let you know that there could be a slight problem at the pageant tonight.”

“Does this have to do with the animals?”

“How did you know?”

“Mother and I were in town, and she saw a flyer and went ballistic. She’s on her way to the church now. I’m sure you’ll see her in a few minutes. She’s looking for some crazy lady named Myrtle. But, honestly, it sounded so weird that I thought maybe she was making it up or getting senile. Who is this Myrtle person?”

Edith tried to explain but saw the futility. “The main reason I called, Judy, was to ask for your help tonight, I mean if things should get a little, well, you know . . .”

“Crazy?”

“Yes. I spoke to another guest, and he seems to have some inside information that it is entirely possible that Myrtle has arranged for real animals to be involved tonight. How she managed this, God only knows. But I hate the idea of seeing your mother being, well, stressed out—and then there are the children, and well . . .”

“I understand, Edith. And I do plan to be on hand. And if you want to know the truth, I think the idea of having live animals is rather charming. I even considered it myself one year, but it was so overwhelming that I finally gave up. If your Myrtle can pull this off, I’m happy to do what I can to keep things running smoothly.”

“You’re a saint!”

Judy laughed. “I’m glad you think so. My mother may have a fit if she finds out I’m in support of this.”

“Well, it’s more about being in support of the children, don’t you think? This is their night, really. I just don’t want it spoiled for them.”

“I understand.”

Edith felt much better after she hung up. She would reassure Charles whenever he emerged from his study. No sense in interrupting his prayer, since she was certain they’d all need it before this night was over.

“Edith?”

She knew it was Olive. Taking a deep breath, she went out to meet her.

Olive had a flyer in her hand and a look of rage on her face. And before Edith could get out a word, Olive began. “What is going on? Is this Myrtle’s doing? Where is that woman?”

“Olive,” Edith said in her best calming voice. “Come into the kitchen and sit down. I just made a pot of peppermint tea, and I think you could use a cup.” She reached for her coat. “Let me take that for you.”

“Edith!” Olive exclaimed as Edith wrestled her for her coat. “This is serious.”

“Come sit down.” They were in the kitchen now, and while Olive continued to rant about what a total catastrophe this evening would be, Edith busied herself with tea and a plate of goodies.

“I swear, unless someone arrests Mad Myrtle and puts her safely in jail, we are all doomed tonight.”

“Oh, Olive.” Edith set the cookie plate and tea in front of her. “I think you’re overreacting.”

“Overreacting?”

“Look, if it makes you feel any better, Charles and I both plan to be on hand to help out, to keep things under control. And I’ve even lined up some other helpers.” Edith didn’t want to mention the phone call to Judy. It might make Olive feel badly, as if she were unable to keep this thing under control herself. “And I’m sure it’s going to be just fine.”