It's a Wonderful Knife by Christine Wenger Read Free Book Online Page A

the pageant,” ACB said.
    â€œSeriously?” Ty asked.
    â€œThat’s the rumor,” ACB replied. “I wonder who started it.”
    â€œProbably Margie Grace,” Ty said. “She seemed the craziest.”
    â€œMaybe she figured that the rumor would cause problems for Liz,” I suggested. “If so, she was absolutely correct.”
    â€œYou know, it’s hard to believe that Margie and Liz used to be good friends way back. In fact, Margie knew how much Liz loved flowers, and got her involved in the Garden Club.” ACB adjusted her fascinator just before it hit the ground. “If I remember correctly, they had words over their rose entries at the state fair. They fought, and I don’t know who did what first, but both of their rose entries ended up on the floor of the horticulture building, decapitated. That put an end to their relationship.”
    â€œDecapitated roses, huh?” Ty grunted. “On that note, let’s get to work.”
    I put Ty, Ray, and Bob to work positioning buffet tables, putting on tablecloths, and setting up the buffet with plates and utensils. Whereas Ty and Ray might be rookies, I was happy to see that Bob took charge. In the end, everything looked fabulous.
    Ray and Ty put bread and rolls on trays. Then Bob fancied it up. They put out mayonnaise, butter,mustard, ketchup, and horseradish in front of the rolls and salad dressings in front of the salad, then set up the steam pan for the ham. Bob even found some candy canes to put on the tables for decoration. Cold drinks, ice, and cups were set up on a round table. A big urn of coffee was perking on another table set with milk, sugar, spoons, and cups.
    â€œTrixie, where are the napkins?” Bob asked.
    â€œUm . . . uh . . . oh, no . . .” I remembered buying pretty napkins with snowmen on them, but they were nowhere to be found. “I think they are still in my kitchen pantry at the Big House.”
    Bob opened his wallet, stuffed thick with bills, and handed Ray several of them. “Ray, hustle on over to the grocery store or to the Spend A Buck and buy a bunch of napkins. Pretty ones for Christmas.”
    â€œThanks, Ray. I’ll reimburse you, Bob,” I said, slicing the ham.
    â€œDon’t worry about it,” he said. “You can’t remember everything.”
    â€œBut it’s my
job
to remember everything,” I protested. “I’m the boss.”
    â€œTrixie, you broke your ankle and have broken ribs. And you are whistling with that gap in your teeth. You’re allowed to be a little forgetful now and then. Give yourself a break.”
    Word came from the church via Antoinette Chloe, who ducked out of the kitchen to audition for the Ghost of Christmas Presents, to say that Bob could audition for Santa Claus when the children were gone.
    â€œBob is the perfect Santa Claus. I don’t know whyLiz is making him audition,” ACB complained. “Besides, no one else is signed up to try out. Margie Grace is right. Liz Fellows doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
    â€œAntoinette Chloe,” Ty began, “Bob hasn’t been around Sandy Harbor for a very long time, and I don’t think that Liz even knows him. What if he is the worst Santa this side of the North Pole? That wouldn’t be good for the pageant.”
    â€œOh, I suppose you’re right.” She returned to cutting up dill pickles and putting olives into bowls. “And I almost forgot! Trixie, Liz says you are in as Tiny Tim. No audition necessary.”
    Everyone laughed at that, and we returned to our festive mood.
    Just then Pastor Fritz and his wife, Darlene, walked in. Pastor Fritz was a tall, skinny Ichabod Crane type of guy with an Adam’s apple that moved when he spoke or swallowed. I heard that during his sermons, several of the parishioners would fall into a hypnotic trance simply by watching it move. He was bald