one arm. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked slightly winded.
“Oh, there you are,” said Edith as she set the tray back down. “Are you still hungry?”
Myrtle waved one hand and grasped the back of a chair with the other. “No,” she puffed. “I just walked all the way to town and back.”
“Did you get something to eat?”
She nodded. “I went to that silly café, the one with all the Santa Claus paraphernalia all over the place.”
“Mrs. Santa’s Diner.”
“That’s the one. Even the napkins had Santa heads printed all over them. Land sakes, I’d think people would get sick and tired of that Santa stuff day in, day out, year round.”
Edith smiled. “Oh, I suppose it gets old for some folks. But I think it’s rather charming.”
Myrtle released the back of the chair and stood up straighter and said, “Charming? Humph,” rolling her eyes for added emphasis.
Edith almost expected her to add a “Bah, humbug” next. But fortunately, Myrtle did not. Instead she turned and began to leave the room.
“I’m going to my room to rest some,” she called over her shoulder. “That long walk wore me out something fierce.”
“Church is at ten thirty,” Edith called out.
Myrtle turned around and tossed her an exasperated look. “I know that,” she snapped.
Edith tried not to show her relief as Myrtle slowly made her way toward the staircase. Hopefully, the old woman would enjoy a nice long rest this morning, allowing Edith to get a few more things done without interruption. More guests would begin to arrive tomorrow, and it wouldn’t be long before the whole house would be filled. Edith wanted to have everything just perfect for them.
She managed to mix up a batch of sugar cookie dough, which needed to chill, as well as eight pie crusts that she wrapped and stacked in the freezer. She planned to have an assortment of desserts available to her guests throughout the days preceding Christmas. Sweets to cheer the spirits.
Finally it was nearly ten thirty, and Edith knew that it was time to head over to the church. She had neither heard nor seen Myrtle and suspected that the tired old woman might still be soundly sleeping. And perhaps it was for the best. But as Edith made her way down the center aisle, toward her regular seat up front, she was surprised to see that someone was already sitting there. And she suspected, by the gray coat and frazzled-looking hair, not to mention the width that took up a fair portion of pew, that it was indeed Myrtle. Of course, Myrtle would have no idea that she was sitting in the seat that was reserved for the pastor’s wife. But Edith could see that the ushers were concerned. She simply smiled at Hal Berry, nodding as if to show him that all was well, before she squeezed past Myrtle, taking the seat to her left. It did feel odd to be sitting in a different spot, even if it was only a few feet different. Funny how people can get accustomed to certain things. Even so, she didn’t let on that she was troubled by being bumped from her regular seat. It was silly, really.
After the singing was finished, Charles took a few moments to welcome newcomers. Today that meant Myrtle. He gave a brief introduction, mentioning that she would be staying at the inn throughout the holidays. And then, to Edith’s complete surprise and probably everyone else’s too, Myrtle stood up.
“Thank you,” she said in a loud voice, turning toward the congregation as if preparing to give a speech. “You have an interesting little town here,” she continued. “Although I do think you people take this whole Christmas business way too far. Good grief, I actually wiped my mug with Santa faces this morning.” A few titters were heard, although Edith suspected that Myrtle wasn’t trying to be funny. “What bothers me is that you people are going to forget what Christmas is really about.” She shook her finger at them. “It’s not about ‘Jingle Bells’ and candy canes and Santa
Darren Koolman Luis Chitarroni