Chapter 4
Christmas had overtaken the Pomeroy mansion with a vengeance.
Standing in the center of her parents’ impressive foyer that Saturday morning, Victoria did a complete turn.
Franz, her mother’s decorator, had done himself proud.
But he’d never been known for restraint, which suited Mama just fine.
Victoria took a quick tour through the living room.
This year the tree next to the fireplace reached the high ceiling, with a resplendent angel soaring at the top.
The color scheme seemed to be gold and merry-old-England red.
Ornaments and garland weighed heavy on the limbs of a fresh tree.
Coming closer, Victoria brushed the soft pine needles with her fingers and smiled.
Every Christmas morning had been magical.
Gifts had carpeted the tree skirt, heaped artistically, of course. Franz saw to that.
Inhaling the sharp but soothing pine scent, Victoria felt her shoulders loosen.
She could almost forget what an idiot she’d made of herself with Dr. Darling.
The room smelled as if a truck loaded with pine trees had just driven through.
The arched doorway was wide enough. Right now the house was quiet, with only the sound of the grandfather clock ticking in the hallway. Saturday mornings always started slow.
Poking around in the fragrant branches for a loose ornament or two, she couldn't find anything to take back to the shop for her tree.
Everything was too glitzy and the ornaments were as wide as her hand.
They might dwarf the slim artificial tree at her pantry.
Going back out into the marble hallway, she continued past the priceless antiques that had been given a holiday tune-up.
Greenery and glitter were strewn here and there.
Ornaments of all sizes were hung, heaped or tucked.
Even the Santas were girded with gold sashes––the kind never found at the North Pole. She kept exploring.
“Bitsy!” Her father looked up from his paper when she wandered into the dining room.
Cringing at his pet name for her, she kissed his forehead. “Daddy, you know I hate that awful name, right?”
“Aw, sweetie.” He didn’t look at all repentant.
“Where have you been hiding? Haven’t seen you in a while.
” Glasses perched on his nose, Daddy was still having coffee.
The Wall Street Journal was spread out next to his plate.
Her mother absolutely hated that because the type left smudges on the white linen tablecloth.
Morning sunlight fell through the high windows swathed in gauzy white sheers.
Heavy gray brocade draperies swept to each side, held by large silken tassels.
While the tree in the living room was all red and gold, the tone for this tree was clearly fa-la-la silver and blue.
As usual, Maribelle had loaded the antique buffet with way too many goodies. Steam rose from silver serving pieces. Victoria walked over. “What’s this, Daddy? Eggs Benedict, hash browns, grits and sugar-baked bacon. What did Dr. Montague say? No bacon.”
“Humor me, Bit––Victoria.” Daddy gazed at her over the tops of the reading glasses he’d taken to wearing lately. “A man needs his strength.”
“You’re not going out to slay dragons, Daddy. Can’t you get that from oatmeal? Emily swears by it.” Sometimes it helped to throw Emily’s name around. Her background as a nutritionist gave her credibility.
“We hardly see you anymore.” Daddy’s lower lip pushed out. He looked like a little boy when he did that––certainly not the expression he used for business.
“I’ve been busy getting the shop ready for the holidays. In fact, I’m a bit behind.” Victoria’s eyes traveled to the tree in the corner. “I've come to poke around a bit.”
“Did you do something to your eye?” Her father never missed a trick.
Daddy would be horrified if he knew she’d picked up a saw. “Nothing much. Just a sliver I caught working around the shop.”
“Let me know if you need help. I’ll send Doug over.” Daddy’s bushy eyebrows drew together. His handyman had been with Pomeroy Enterprises forever. “You have to be more careful. Let me see it.”
“Daddy, really. I'm grown up now.”
“I can still worry about you, can’t I?” Daddy looked so forlorn. Draping an arm around his broad shoulders, she hugged him, drinking in the Bay Rum cologne. The scent comforted her.
“When is Randall coming home?”
Taking off his glasses, Daddy sighed. “When finals are over. Just a few days before Christmas. He has to study, so he’ll meet us in Palm Beach.”
Victoria huffed out a gust of disbelief. “Right, as if he ever does that.” A raging party boy, Randall was head of his fraternity.
Daddy gestured toward the buffet with his glasses. “Have you eaten breakfast?”
“I'm on a diet.” She licked her lips. Eggs Benedict was a favorite, but her fingers slid to her waist. She had a two-finger rule and right now? They weren’t fitting under that darn waistband.
“Okay then. I'll eat for you.” He picked up his fork.
Sliding into a tufted chair, she rested her chin on one hand. “What did Dr. Montague say about your cholesterol last time you saw him?”
But Daddy kept forking in the hash browns like he hadn’t heard a word. No wonder Mama got crazy mad at him.
“Have you checked into a hearing aid?” She raised her voice a bit.
“How's your pantry doing?” he responded, blotting his lips with the linen napkin. Her mother would never allow paper at her table.
“Christmas brought in a lot of new business. Everyone seems to be cookie crazy.”
“Take advantage of the holidays. In January business slacks off.”
She’d always admired her father’s business sense. “I'm bringing in a line of gifts for the holidays. Mugs, dish towels and hot pads. Reading lights. That kind of thing. And they’re all branded with Victoria’s Pantry.”
The smile that lit up his face made her feel so proud. “That's my girl. Always thinking.”
Satisfaction filled her. Maybe she was finally growing up. Hanging out with Emily, Bryn and Josie might have done her a world of good. In addition to stopping in for ornaments, she was also looking for information. “Have you ever known anyone whose last name is Darling?”
Lips pursed, Daddy shook his head. “The name sounds kind of familiar but I can’t place it. Why?”
She had to be careful about this. “No real reason. I just met a Dr. Darling at the urgent care center. My eye, you know.”
“Good morning!” Looking impeccably fresh in a red sweater and gray slacks with gray leather boots, her mother breezed into the room. Ash blonde hair framed the sparkling blue eyes and flawless skin she’d passed on to Victoria. “I thought I heard your voice, sweetheart.”
“Morning, Mama.”
One hand on Daddy’s shoulder, Mama offered her cheek for a kiss. Daddy was always careful not to mess her hairdo. “Our little girl was just asking if I knew Dr. Darling.”
Oh, why did Daddy have to mention that? The interrogation would start. A flush burn its way up her cheeks.
“Who is Dr. Darling?” her mother asked, helping herself to dry toast and coffee. “What an unusual name. Is he single?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Mama was always scheming to get her married off. The society page in Palm Beach would be filled with holiday engagements leading to summer weddings.
But not for her. That might be the difficult part of going down there for the holidays. All the questions when she had no answers.
“Actually, Mama, I came to borrow some decorations. Customers are bringing in their own ornaments from home. I thought I’d add some of ours to the tree at Victoria’s Pantry.”
“That’s sweet, Bitsy.” Daddy turned his attention from the sports page.
“Check the Christmas room in the attic and take what you want. I would think some wonderful things are stored up there.” Scooping up a plate, Mama added a small mound of eggs to a sliver of dry toast. No wonder she kept her shape.
“Did something happen to your eye, Victoria?” Setting the plate down at the table, her mother skirted Daddy’s chair and came closer.
Victoria shrank. Was her eye really that noticeable?
She should've gone straight to the attic, but no way did she want to borrow a ballerina from the Paris Opera House or a Lipizzaner Horse from Vienna without asking. “I’m fine. Just caught something in it while I was working at the shop. Occupational hazard.” Victoria had no idea what that meant but she’d heard Maisy use it when she caught a finger in the glass case.
Back to the ornaments. “Do you remember if we have any angel ornaments up there? You know, homey stuff like angels or Santa. Reindeer.”
Mama's eyes swept to the tree glistening next the fireplace that would never be lit. “You don't think our trees are ‘homey?’ I’m not sure I know what that means.”
Okay, Victoria had to think fast. “You know. A little less glitter.”
“Glitter?” With glitter shining around her, Mama looked puzzled. Daddy disappeared into his coffee cup.
“My customers are more casual.”
Her mother sat down and snapped open a napkin. “Poke around upstairs. I never throw anything away. One day you or Randall might want those historical treasures.”
“Thanks, Mama.” Victoria doubted that her younger brother gave a rip about the ornaments.
“Getting ready for Palm Beach?” Her mother spread a teaspoon of marmalade on her toast. That’s all she ever allowed herself.
“Of course.” Huge lie. “Do you have the agenda yet?”
“Maribelle will email it to you. We’re a little behind with ordering our gowns. But I’ll get some samples in soon.”
“Thank you. I’ve been so busy.” Busy throwing myself in harm’s way to catch the eye of a certain doctor.
“Blue has always been your color.” Mama’s eyes narrowed. “Still a size two, correct?”
“Yes, Mama.” Victoria sucked in her stomach.
Sometimes Mama reminded Victoria of her proctor in sophomore study hall, checking to make sure homework was finished.