Nutty As a Fruitcake by Mary Daheim Read Free Book Online

Carl had dropped the cow; Arlene demanded to know why she’d found a pack of her husband’s cigarettes stuck to one of the shepherds. Sweetums sat down in front of the New England parson, as if listening to a sermon. Gertrude uttered a sigh, shivered inside the lumber jacket, and began to clump off down the driveway.
    â€œAre you cold, Mother?” Judith called as she lifted the last pieces of fencing from the truck.
    Gertrude turned to look over her shoulder. “Of course I’m cold, you nitwit. It’s almost December.” She hesitated, leaning heavily on the walker. “But that’s not it. I feel queerlike.”
    Hastily, Judith set the fencing on the ground, then raced to Gertrude’s side. “It’s delayed shock, from me backing into you. Oh, dear heaven, I feel terrible! Let’s take you to the emergency room!”
    Gertrude, however, brushed off her daughter’s solicitous hands. “Stick it, noodlehead. I don’t mean I’m sick or sore. I mean…” Gertrude sucked in her breath. “I don’t know what I mean. It’s like somebody walked over my grave. Except I’m not in it.” Confusion was written all over the small wrinkled face that was raised to Judith. “Somebody else is buried there. Who is it?”

THREE
    J OE ARRIVED HOME just as Renie was about to leave. He pulled his aged red MG into the garage, then came back down the drive to admire the cousins’ handiwork.
    â€œCute,” Joe declared, taking in the artful arrangement of villagers and their surroundings. “More than cute. Are the lights hooked up?”
    â€œWe left that for you,” Judith said, offering Joe a welcoming kiss. “It’s getting dark. Do you want to have a drink first?”
    Giving Renie a friendly hug, Joe shook his head. “I’ll get at it as soon as I change. I can use what little light is…”
    Another crash resounded from the other side of the hedge. By reflex, Joe went for his gun, then froze. The color in his slightly florid face deepened.
    â€œDamn,” he laughed. “I thought it was a shot.”
    A face appeared among the hedge’s glossy laurel leaves. “Yoo-hoo,” Arlene called. “There’s no room at the inn. The roof just fell down. On Carl.”
    Judith gave her neighbor a half smile. “Tell them to call Hillside Manor. I may have an opening for the twenty-fourth.”
    Arlene disappeared again. Renie gave herself a good shake. “I don’t think I could get used to living next doorto the Rankers,” she said. “As for that other couple, I never could figure out why they didn’t call ahead for reservations.”
    â€œWhat other couple?” Judith asked as Renie started towards her big blue Chevrolet.
    â€œThe ones who got stuck with the cowshed,” Renie replied, still walking. “Mary and Joseph. Bye.”
    â€œIt could have been worse,” Joe said, squeezing Judith’s shoulders. Noting his wife’s puzzled look, he grinned and the gold flecks danced in his green eyes. “It could have been a toolshed. I don’t think even the Holy Family could have put up with your mother.”
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    â€œSo isn’t that kind of weird?” Judith asked as she finished arranging crackers, cheese, and crab dip on a tray for her guests’ hors d’oeuvres. “Mother isn’t usually fanciful.”
    Joe yawned, took a sip of scotch, and put the evening paper aside. “Fanciful, no. But let’s face it, Jude-girl—your mother’s pretty old and it’s Christmastime. People get strange during the holidays. They look to Christmas in the same way they did as children—it’ll bring happiness, solve all their problems. But it doesn’t, so they get depressed. Suicide, homicide—every imaginable disaster. For a lot of people, the holiday season is the ugliest time of year. Too many expectations, too