Chapter 2
M aggie’s cell phone sprang to life with an incoming call. Maggie smiled when she heard Susan’s self-recorded custom ringtone.
“Hey, Mama Llama, it’s me,” the phone chirped.
Maggie realized she couldn’t get out of the tub, dry herself, and reach the phone before Susan’s call went to voicemail. She was enjoying the rare treat of a morning bath and hated it to end.
She reclined against the bathtub pillow, running her hands through the blanket of bubbles, when Susan called again.
“Well, something must be on her mind,” Maggie said to Eve, who was curled into a ball and snoozing on the plush bathroom rug. “It’s time for me to get ready to head to her place anyway.”
Grasping the sides of the tub, Maggie hoisted herself to her feet.
She reached for the plush bath sheet draped over the small table next to the tub and wrapped it around herself.
Stepping carefully onto the rug so as not to disturb Eve, she dashed into the bedroom and tapped the screen to answer the call.
“Hey, Mom,” Susan said. “Merry Christmas. I didn’t think I was going to get you.”
“Sorry, honey,” Maggie said. “I was soaking in the tub. I was going to let it go to voicemail, but when you called again right away, I knew something was up. So, what is it?”
“I hate to say this, but Julia’s sick. She woke up with a 104-degree fever. Her nose began running when we got home from the children’s Christmas Eve service at church. By the time we put her to bed, she had a low-grade fever. During the night, she woke with coughing fits.”
“Oh no, honey, I’m so sorry to hear that. She must feel miserable.”
“She’s been inconsolable. We gave her children’s Tylenol last night, which provided some relief, but her next dose isn’t due for another hour.”
Maggie heard crying in the background. She drew in a deep breath, hesitated, then continued. “Measles isn’t a possibility, is it?”
“No, Mom, it’s not measles. Julia is up to date on all her childhood immunizations. Her dad is a doctor, remember? He doesn’t think it’s measles. Aaron says it’s just a virus and will clear up on its own. I’m calling you because neither of us wants you or John to be exposed to her.”
Maggie was silent for a moment, contemplating how disappointed John would be to miss Christmas with Julia.
“Thank you for being so thoughtful, honey. You’re right. As much as we both want to see our little girl open gifts, it’s not wise.”
“Julia’s too miserable to open presents this morning, anyway. I don’t know how we’re going to handle the ‘Santa brought you gifts’ thing from last night, but we’ll hold off for a day or two. When she’s better, you can still be here when she opens them.”
“That would make John’s day,” Maggie said.
“Then that’s what we’ll do. I’ve never seen a more devoted grandfather than your loving husband.”
“I guess this means you won’t be attending the Christmas potluck at the Olsson House this afternoon.”
“Aaron thinks we should stay home. He feels perfectly fine, but he said we could be contagious and carriers, so we’ll have to miss it, which makes me sad.”
“I’ve been down in the dumps, too,” Maggie said.
“I’ve been saying for weeks how glad I am not to have all the work associated with the Rosemont Christmas potluck, but I woke up this morning in a terrible funk.
John helped me snap out of it, but I’m having a hard time hanging on to a positive outlook, especially now that we can’t come see your family. ”
Maggie switched the call to speakerphone and began patting herself dry with the towel. “You said Aaron feels fine. How about you?”
“I’m not sure, truthfully,” Susan replied. “I don’t have a fever or runny nose or cough, but I don’t feel like myself either.”
“I noticed you nodding off during church last night,” Maggie said.
“I know, right? It was only seven thirty, for heaven’s sake. I’ve been swamped at work for the past two weeks, but nodding off in church before eight is unacceptable.” She paused, considering what to say next. “I woke up feeling queasy, too,” she admitted.
Maggie inhaled sharply. “Oh, my gosh. Fatigue and an upset stomach … could you be …?”
“I don’t know, Mom. We’ve had so many false starts.”
“Maybe this will be a very special Christmas present for you,” Maggie said gently.
“I thought about that,” Susan said. “I really don’t want to see another negative pregnancy test this week. Aaron and I agreed—we’ll enjoy the Christmas and New Year’s holidays and test again on January second. If we have something to celebrate, we’ll do it then.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had such a difficult time with this, honey. I think that’s a smart plan. Put it out of your mind for now. You’ll have your hands full with a sick toddler, anyway.”
Maggie heard Julia wailing in the background.
“I’d better go, Mom. I didn’t want you and John to drive over here, only to have to turn around and go home.”
“I’ll miss seeing you, honey,” Maggie said. “I think this is the first Christmas of your life that I won’t have been with you.”
“You’re right, Mom, and I’m so sorry. But it’s for the best.”
“John and I will pack up a couple of plates from the Christmas buffet and drop them off for you on our way home. At least you’ll get a Christmas dinner.”
“That would be wonderful. We don’t have much in the house to fix other than the eggs and bacon I was going to make for breakfast today. Plus, we can at least see each other through the window. That’ll count as seeing each other on Christmas.”
Maggie chuckled. “Indeed, it will. Take care of that little girl of ours—and yourself. Let me know if you need anything. We’d be happy to run by the pharmacy and pick up what you need.”
“Will do, Mom, and thanks. Living with a doctor, our medicine chest is well stocked. Depending on how long Julia is sick, I may ask you to drop off groceries for me in the next few days.”
“I’d be delighted to, honey.”
“I’d better go,” Susan said. “I’ll see you later, Mom.”
“Merry Christmas. I love you,” Maggie said.
Maggie returned to the bathroom. John would be home in half an hour. She glanced longingly at the tub. Getting dressed would be the practical thing to do, but it was Christmas morning. Practical things were not required.
She checked the temperature of the water.
It was lukewarm. Turning the hot water tap on full blast, she loosened the drain plug, letting some water out.
Maggie poured another capful of bubble bath into the tub and watched with glee as a blanket of iridescent bubbles filled it.
In only minutes, the bathwater was perfect.
She deposited her towel back on the table and climbed into the tub.
Eve stirred and cracked open one eye. She thumped her tail on the rug twice and resettled her muzzle on her paws.
Maggie leaned back against the bath pillow and stretched her legs in front of her. A leisurely morning bath was the ultimate luxury. She’d have to remember to do this again.
She had just closed her eyes when her cell phone rang again. This time, her caller ID announced Judy Young.
Maggie pressed her lids tight against her eyes, then forced them open.
Judy was one of her dearest friends in Westbury.
She and Jeff Carson had recently married and started their life together by remodeling the stately Olsson House near the square.
Now she and Jeff were hosting the annual Christmas potluck at their new home.
Maggie had offered to help, but Judy had declined, assuring her everything was under control. Maggie had replied that Judy could call for help at any time—and now Judy was calling.
For the second time in the last thirty minutes, Maggie hoisted herself out of her bath. She clutched her towel around her as she hotfooted it into her bedroom, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the hardwood floor.
“Merry Christmas, Judy,” Maggie said.
“The same to you, Maggie,” Judy replied with forced cheerfulness.
“How’s it going?” Maggie asked.
“It feels like we’re on the Titanic over here. And we’re racing around, rearranging the deck chairs.”
Maggie chuckled. “Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad. Besides, it’s always chaotic finishing up party preparations.”
“In all honesty, Maggie, you and John made hosting appear effortless. I had no idea how much preparation goes into something like this, even for a potluck. You need to set up so much stuff: serving pieces, plates, glassware, cutlery, napkins, ice, coffee, cream, sugar.” Judy groaned.
“The list goes on and on. Plus, you have to make sure the bathrooms are clean and there’s enough soap and toilet paper. ”
Maggie suppressed a smile. She couldn’t help but feel vindicated by Judy’s frantic confession—especially after Judy had casually assured her she knew what she was doing, even though she’d never done it before.
Judy had insisted that, although she hadn’t hosted many parties herself, she’d supplied dozens of customers with invitations and party items. In the end, she’d wondered how difficult it could really be.
“I had no idea how much work you put in, Maggie. I’m here to tell you, I really appreciate you even more now.”
A lump formed in Maggie’s throat. This was no time for her to privately gloat over her friend’s newfound appreciation.
“You don’t need to thank me, Judy. And, believe me, we’ve all been where you are. So, what do you need? What can I do to help?”
“I’m not sure how to even set up a buffet—what the flow should be.
Jeff and I experimented with a few different configurations.
Where’s the best place to put the chairs?
For easy access, where’s the best spot for the beverages?
Do we put the coffee with the other beverages or set it up somewhere else?
Will everyone bring serving utensils, or do I need to supply them?
And—we forgot to buy ice. Do you have a bag you could bring? ”
“We always keep a couple of extra bags of ice in our outside freezer,” Maggie said. “We’ll bring those. That should be plenty. I can do better than that, though. If you’d like, I’ll come over in a few minutes.”
“I thought you were spending the morning with Susan’s family.”
“That was the plan, but Julia is sick and they’re quarantining. They won’t be coming this afternoon, either. So—I’m happily off leash.”
“I don’t want to interfere with your peaceful Christmas Day,” Judy said.
“You’d be doing nothing of the kind,” Maggie replied.
“To be completely honest, I was a little down in the dumps this morning because I wasn’t getting ready for a party.
You know me. I love entertaining, and I relish the hustle and bustle before a party.
You’d be doing me a favor. I’m already feeling better just thinking about it. ”
“You promise me you’re telling the truth?” Judy asked.
“Pinky swear,” Maggie said. “I just got out of the tub. I can be dressed and over there in thirty minutes.”
“What about John? Won’t he mind?”
“I hear his footsteps on the stairs,” Maggie said. “Let me ask him.”
Roman raced into the room, followed closely by John.
“I’m talking to Judy,” she wiggled her phone, pressed to her ear.
“Susan called while you were at the hospital—Julia is sick and they don’t want us to be exposed to the crud, and they’re staying home today.
Do you mind if I run over to Judy’s this morning to help her get ready for the potluck?
” Maggie’s voice radiated her enthusiasm.
“On one condition,” he said.
Maggie cocked her head to one side and raised an eyebrow.
“That I get to come with you and help, too. You were in such a funk this morning. I didn’t want to make it worse by telling you I was feeling letdown as well.”
Maggie turned back to the phone. “Did you hear that?” she asked Judy. “Would it be okay if John also came along?”
“Jeff and I would consider it our own little Christmas miracle.”
“Okay—you two hang tight. We’ll be there soon.”