The Christmas Bus by Melody Carlson Read Free Book Online Page B

head toilet-seat covers. It’s not about making a few extra bucks or impressing your friends with the way your place is all lit up. And if this is all that Christmas Valley has to offer, well, I’d just as soon spend my Christmas someplace else!” Then she turned and sat down with a thump .
    The church was so quiet you could have heard a snowflake fall. Not that there was any chance of that today, since it was still quite balmy. Edith, almost afraid to breathe, looked up at the pulpit, where Charles’s eyes were wide and his mouth was actually partway open. But he quickly regained composure and even acknowledged Myrtle’s stern reprimand.
    “I think our guest makes a valid point,” he said slowly. “It is important that we not lose sight of the true meaning of Christmas.” He smiled. “And I’m sure that’s why all of you are here this morning.” Then he launched into his sermon.
    Unfortunately, Edith was so distracted by Myrtle’s strong words, not to mention being deposed from her regular seat, that she was unable to really focus. All she could think of was that this Myrtle had a lot of nerve to dress down the entire congregation. Good grief, she’d been here for less than twenty-four hours, and she was already telling people how to act. It was just a bit much. And, although it wasn’t Edith’s fault, she felt personally responsible for her guest’s less than thoughtful behavior. She couldn’t imagine how she was going to make up for it—especially to someone like Olive Peters, and Edith could feel Olive’s eyes peering at her from across the church right now.
    Finally the service was over, they were singing the anthem, and Edith was considering making a swift exit out the side door in the kitchen. But before she had a chance to make her getaway, someone tapped her on the shoulder from behind.
    Edith turned in the pew to see Mrs. Fish. And her old wrinkled face looked concerned.
    “I’d like to be introduced to your guest,” she said.
    But by then Myrtle had already turned around. “I’m Myrtle,” she said without fanfare.
    Mrs. Fish nodded with a stiff smile.
    “This is my friend Mrs. Fish,” said Edith quickly. “She’s a retired schoolteacher.”
    Myrtle stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
    “I was interested in your comments this morning,” began Mrs. Fish.
    Then before another word was said, Edith hastily excused herself and made her exit. Oh, she was curious as to what Mrs. Fish was going to say to Myrtle. But not curious enough to stick around. Who knew what might happen with two opinionated women like that. Of course, the ever courteous Mrs. Fish would probably practice perfect self-control. But Myrtle seemed to be a bit of a loose cannon, and Edith didn’t care to be around to witness any fireworks. Instead she made her quick getaway as planned, getting all the way to the kitchen before Olive caught up with her.
    “Where on earth did that woman come from?” demanded Olive in quiet tones.
    Edith smiled. “I’m not sure.” Then changing the subject, “How is Helen doing?”
    “Helen’s fine,” Olive said quickly. “But seriously, Edith, what is wrong with that woman? I thought she was going to start preaching fire and brimstone at us. You and Pastor Charles better make sure you keep her in check.”
    Edith wasn’t sure how to respond, but apparently that didn’t matter, because now Mrs. Fish and Myrtle were coming into the kitchen.
    “I want you to meet Olive Peters,” said Mrs. Fish. “Olive?”
    Olive looked over with a confused expression. “Yes?”
    “Well, Myrtle and I were just discussing the real meaning of Christmas, and she was telling me how she’s something of an expert when it comes to nativity productions and such. And I told her that you’re managing the pageant this year, and about Helen’s fall and how she hurt her knee and won’t be of much help.” Mrs. Fish smiled. “And it seems you’re in luck, Olive. Myrtle just volunteered to give