“THE PLAN’S IN MOTION,” Susannah told Rose the next day. “I persuaded Lars to invite Gina to the dance.”
“Was it hard?” she asked, delighted to see Susannah looking so pleased with herself.
“Lars didn’t need encouragement, just tips on handling Gina. He called after school to report that everything went smoothly.”
“Wonderful!”
Rose decided to put her own plan into action and telephoned Gina to invite the teenager on a shopping trip. There were some things a girl needed help with, and buying the right dress for a big occasion was one of them. Rose suspected Joe could handle most crises that arose from raising a rebellious daughter alone, but no father should have to endure a trip to the formal-wear department of Gates Department Store.
Gina was surprisingly gracious about accepting Rose’s offer, and they made arrangements to meet at Gates that afternoon.
Although styles had changed dramatically in the past twenty years, girls’ attitudes weren’t very different from when Rose had taken Susannah shopping for prom gowns. Girls still wanted to look pretty for a date to a dance.
But Gina was hard to please, for she didn’t want to look “dopey,” as she said to Rose. “I don’t want a dress that makes me look like I’m going to a masquerade party.”
The headstrong Gina finally selected a red dress with puffy sleeves and a sleek way of clinging to her athletic figure. She used every penny of the money her father had sent along, and chipped in thirty dollars of her own. When Rose saw the dejected look on the girl’s face when they carried the dress past the shoe department, she encouraged her to choose a pair of shoes that matched her new dress. At first, Gina politely refused the offer, but Rose didn’t have much trouble persuading the teenager to accept the gift. In return, Gina helped Rose choose a birthday gift for Susannah at the jewelry counter.
Afterward, they trooped down to the basement luncheonette to enjoy a predinner scoop of ice cream. Joe arrived at the curb outside the department store at the appointed hour, and drove Rose home.
“How did it go?” Susannah demanded when Rose let herself in the front door after the trip.
“We had a wonderful time,” Rose replied, sinking gratefully into the nearest chair. “But I’d forgotten how tiring a shopping excursion can be. Gina’s quite a handful!”
Susannah’s face folded into a frown. “I’m worried about your color, Granny Rose. I think I’ll call Dr. Phelps.”
“No, no, I’m just a little worn-out. And I had a snack at the store.” Rose touched her stomach. “It may not be agreeing with me. But I enjoyed myself thoroughly. Gina is a sweet kid under that hard-as-nails exterior she tries so hard to keep in place.”
“You shouldn’t have exhausted yourself for her, Granny Rose. I could have taken Gina shopping.”
“Oh, stop fussing.” Belatedly, Rose realized her tone sounded too sharp. She reached for Susannah’s hand and squeezed it. “Don’t mind me, dear. Did you call Roger? What are your plans?”
Susannah took a deep breath. “My plans are canceled.”
“Canceled?” Rose stared up at her granddaughter. “What do you mean? What about your vacation?”
“I can go to the beach anytime.” Susannah knelt by Rose’s chair and turned up her face to her grandmother. “But a Christmas in Tyler comes only once a year, Granny Rose. I want to be here for your party.”
“But...but what about all that money you’ve spent?”
Susannah shrugged. “Roger said he’d try to get a partial refund, but I’m not worried about that.”
Rose felt a pang of guilt. “You’re worried about me, aren’t you?”
“A little,” Susannah agreed carefully. “But I’m being selfish, too. I love spending the holidays in this old house with you.”
“I wonder if anybody else contributed to your change of plans?” Rose inquired teasingly. “Anybody I know?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea who you’re talking about,” Susannah replied cheerfully, getting to her feet. “So let’s not even open that subject, shall we? Hang on to my arm and I’ll help you into the parlor. Would you like a cup of herbal tea to settle your stomach?”
“That sounds wonderful, Suzie.”
“Keep your ear tuned for the doorbell,” she said over her shoulder. “My secretary is sending some of my clothes and things by courier.”
“How nice! You won’t have to wear those jeans to my party!”
“I might anyway,” Susannah shot back with a laugh.
Although Rose felt bad about spoiling Susannah’s vacation, she was also delighted to have her granddaughter at home for the holidays. Not only was Susannah good company, but she was a great help around the house.
For Rose, the week passed in a flurry of preparations. Joe Santori and his men appeared promptly at eight each morning to work on the kitchen, to get it ready in time for the party. Susannah managed to be on hand when Joe was in the house—to spare Rose the ordeal of supervising the job, she claimed. And she took Rose out of the house for various shopping excursions, too. Each evening after the men departed, Rose and Susannah hurriedly baked the goodies that would cover the buffet table at the party. Once Rose caught Susannah surreptitiously wrapping packages on the dining room table. They took a turn at delivering Meals on Wheels on Wednesday, and Susannah found time to polish the silver, too.
Relieved to have such expert help in the house, Rose allowed Susannah to do more than her fair share of the work. Together, they baked cookies and shopped for wines, draped the whole house in garlands of fragrant pine and took turns telephoning friends and neighbors to extend invitations. At the end of each day, Rose found herself very tired, and she was happy to allow Susannah to tuck her into a comfortable chair for a nap before dinner.
But Rose did not allow her exhaustion to slow her down for long. She loved holiday entertaining.
The annual Atkins open house was a party that half the town of Tyler made it a point to attend. It was a highlight of the Christmas entertaining season, and Rose took absurd pride in the event.
“Maybe this year we should cut back a little,” Susannah said the afternoon she discovered Rose nodding off at the dining room table, where she’d been tying green satin ribbons around the fruitcakes she gave to her closest friends. “You seem tuckered out, Granny Rose.”
“Nonsense, my dear. I’m just saving up my energy for the party.”
Susannah’s face registered concern. “I’m sure your friends won’t mind if you skip the fruitcakes this year. Eventually, you’ll have to slow down a little.”
“Who says?” Rose challenged her granddaughter, snipping ribbon with renewed vigor. “I’m going to do everything I please for as long as it pleases me—and if it shortens my life by a few months, what does it matter? Having this party makes me happy.”
Susannah laughed. “All right, have it your way. But let me finish these fruitcakes, will you? I’ll make you a cup of tea and you can relax for a little while.”
Despite Susannah’s constant fussing over her health, Rose enjoyed the days she spent preparing for the party. It was a long time since her granddaughter had been home for an extended visit, and they chatted together for hours.
Also, it was a joy for Rose to see Susannah blooming under the attention of Joe Santori. Although Susannah denied any feelings for the man, it was obvious that she was falling in love with him. Rose could see the glow in her granddaughter’s eyes whenever Joe appeared at the door. And when he got into the habit of telephoning each evening on the excuse that he needed orders for the following day’s work, Susannah seemed to take great pleasure in just listening to his voice.
It made Rose happy to see Susannah so taken with Joe. But her granddaughter steadfastly refused his further invitations for dinner or other nightly entertainments.
Wondering if Susannah was still worried about Joe’s relationship with this Angelica woman Gina had told her about, Rose decided to discuss the situation with her friends in the Quilting Circle when they met at Worthington House to finish the Christmas quilt.
“We ought to do something to get Joe and Susannah together,” said Martha Bauer as she slipped her needle in and out of the fabric.
“We can hardly break up Joe and his other girlfriend, this Angelica person.”
“Angelica who?” demanded Inger Hansen. “I never heard of any Angelica living in Tyler. What kind of name is Angelica? She sounds like a floozy.”
“She’s somebody from Bonneville, I suppose. Or Madison, perhaps.”
“A man like Joe Santori ought to be content with a local girl,” Inger snapped. “Not getting his jollies out of town.”
“Don’t be crude, Inger,” said Martha Bauer. “Rose, can’t we arrange a few accidental meetings between Joe and Susannah?”
“They meet every day in my kitchen,” said Rose. “I don’t know what else we can do.”
“A kitchen’s not very romantic.”
“Well, he’s coming to my Christmas party.”
“Is he bringing Angelica?”
“I don’t think so.”
Martha Bauer said, “Would Susannah quit her job at the television station so she could come back to Tyler and marry Joe? I don’t think he’s the type to give up his work for a woman.”
“But Susannah’s a big star!”
All the ladies began arguing about working wives after that, and the discussion became very lively. Rose had her doubts that either Joe or Susannah would give up their work for love, but she didn’t voice her worry. Modern couples managed with all kinds of arrangements nowadays. Why, some wives and husbands lived on opposite coasts and got together only on weekends.
“Well, we’ll just have to make sure Joe meets Susannah under the mistletoe,” said Inger in her loud voice. “But don’t leave them alone together, Rose. We saw what happened the other night when they were parked right outside our front door. These young people today! They don’t have any morals.”
Though she’d known Inger for fifty years, Rose was outraged, and snapped, “Susannah’s morals are just fine, Inger!”
“But we saw them—”
“You shouldn’t have been snooping, you old busybody! What they do in private—”
Martha Bauer patted Rose’s arm soothingly. “Don’t get so angry, Rose. My goodness, your blood pressure! Inger is just picking a fight. Like always.”
“Nobody says terrible things about my granddaughter and gets away with it!”
“Rose, please! Don’t get so angry. It can’t be good for your health.”
“Yes, we’re worried about you,” chimed in another friend. “You don’t look well. Let’s talk about your party instead. We’re all so excited about coming! Judson Ingalls has arranged for us all to ride over in his big car.”
Rose was easily diverted into discussing her Christmas party, but her friends were right. She didn’t feel especially well, and after a while she excused herself early and telephoned Susannah for a ride home.
“What’s the matter?” Susannah asked at once, sounding very worried.
“Nothing’s the matter,” Rose said into the telephone receiver, despite the fact that her heart was thumping so hard it hurt. “I just don’t feel like listening to a bunch of old biddies this afternoon.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“There’s no need to rush. Not if Joe’s there with you.”
“Joe isn’t here,” Susannah said firmly. “I believe he had work to finish at the lodge today. He says the Ingalls family has finally sold the place and he has to hurry with the job.”
“He’ll still be able to come to our party tomorrow night, I hope?”
“I think so,” said Susannah. “Just wait at Worthington House, Granny Rose. I’ll come inside to get you.”
“You don’t have to treat me like an invalid,” Rose said, but Susannah had already hung up the phone.
Rose went home and slept for the rest of the afternoon—something she never did. When she finally woke, Susannah was doubly worried, so Rose made an effort to act as if everything was normal during their light supper. But she felt groggy and went to bed early, telling herself she had better get over the flu—if that was what she had—before the party. Since Joe’s men had finished the kitchen that day, Susannah spent the evening cleaning up the mess and putting the cupboards and drawers in order.
The next day, of course, Rose had no time to think about her health. She wished Susannah happy birthday and shared an extra large banana-nut muffin with a candle in it. Susannah opened her gifts—a pretty gold pendant and a collection of old family photographs that Rose had painstakingly labeled and mounted in a handsome album.
“Oh, it’s wonderful, Granny Rose!” Susannah had tears in her eyes. “I’ve always wanted to sit down with you to learn about the family. Thanks so much for taking the time yourself!”
Rose was pleased that Susannah found the album so precious. It was important to pass along family history, Rose felt. She was glad Susannah felt the same way.
Side by side with Susannah, Rose spent the morning working in the kitchen. In the afternoon, they mixed the punch, set out glassware and napkins, arranged a few extra chairs in the sitting room for the elderly guests and chose the music that would play on the stereo during the party. A dozen phone calls interrupted their preparations, but Rose didn’t mind. She loved the excitement.
At six o’clock, she dashed upstairs to change her clothes. In her haste, Rose realized that her heart had begun to pound with excitement, so she sat down on her bed for a moment’s rest and promptly fell asleep. She woke an hour later with Susannah gently shaking her shoulder.
“Granny Rose, are you sure you’re up to this?”
“Oh, my heavens, what time is it? I must have dozed off!”
“It’s seven o’clock.” Susannah looked lovely in a red wool dress with her gold pendant around her neck and her fair hair loose around her face. With a worried frown, she said, “Judson Ingalls just arrived with a carload of your friends. Shall I tell them you’re still dressing?”
Rose scrambled off the bed. “It will just take me two shakes to get ready, Suzie. Can you entertain everyone until then?”
“Of course,” said Susannah, turning toward the door. But she hesitated and looked back. “Granny Rose...”
Rose waved her hand to hurry Susannah out. “Don’t slow me down, darling. I’ve got to get dressed. Where’s my slip?”
By the time Rose had put on her clothes, combed her hair and applied her lipstick, the party was in full swing. The house looked lovely and smelled like Santa’s kitchen. Susannah was merrily greeting guests at the door, while soft carols played on the stereo.
Rose arrived downstairs just as Joe Santori stepped in the door, looking quite handsome in a sport coat. Little elves with hammers decorated his tie. Rose saw Susannah give the tie a familiar tweak and make a joke, and Joe laughed, bending close to give her a kiss and wish her a happy birthday. At the last instant, she turned her head to prevent him from kissing her on the mouth. Joe smiled and kissed her lingeringly, anyway. Susannah’s eyes were full of pleasure when she raised her gaze to Joe’s. For an instant, the two of them were completely unaware of the rest of the world.
Then Rose launched herself off the bottom step, crying, “Merry Christmas, Joe! I’m so glad you could come. Do I get a kiss, too, or must I trap you under the mistletoe?”
Joe tore his gaze reluctantly from Susannah’s and laughingly gave Rose an obedient kiss. “Merry Christmas, Rose. I hope your kitchen is open for business tonight.”
“Thanks to you and your men, it is. Thanks for helping me out so quickly, Joe. I won’t expect the rest of the renovations to be so speedy.”
Joe said, “My crew’s finishing up out at Timberlake—we lost the job with the Ingallses—so I’ll be back here tomorrow morning, if you like.”
“What do you mean, you lost the job with the Ingallses?”
“Liza says they’ve sold the lodge.”
“Great heavens! To whom?”
“Edward Wocheck.”
“Eddie—! Why would he want to buy the old lodge?”
Susannah frowned. “Granny Rose, I told you about this when we were baking the other day. Don’t you remember? I spoke with him at Worthington House.”
“When were you at Worthington House?” Rose asked in confusion.
“We saw Edward Wocheck at Worthington House the night we took the tree over there,” Joe explained. “I guess he wants to turn the lodge into some kind of resort. He’s sent a bunch of plans to the town council, and if they approve his ideas on Monday, the lodge will no longer belong to the Ingalls family.”
“How sad,” Susannah murmured. “Timberlake was kind of an ancestral home for them, wasn’t it?”
“Too many bad memories now, I think,” Rose said idly, still worried about her memory lapse. “It’s just as well. I’m sure Eddie will allow the Ingallses free run of the place, if they want it. He and Alyssa Ingalls used to be very close.”
The final sale of Timberlake proved to be the biggest topic of conversation at the party. In the dining room, townsfolk crowded around Judson Ingalls when he finished filling a small plate from the buffet table and began to speak about selling his property. The other guests made appropriate responses to his comments, and Rose was relieved that nobody asked him any uncomfortable questions.
Except for one person. Fortunately, crotchety Inger Hansen was in the kitchen when she said loudly, “I wonder if Judson’s selling the place to cover his tracks.”
“Hush, Inger!” Rose turned from the oven where she was removing a tray of hot toast points. “Keep your voice down. I won’t have you making a scene tonight!”
“It’s not a scene if it’s the truth,” snapped old Inger, selecting a plump apricot cookie from the plate waiting on the counter. Munching it, she said, “A lot of people are saying that Judson killed his wife—the police proved that was her body they dug up last summer, you know. He’s probably unloading Timberlake so he can take his money and run off to South America!”
“Don’t talk nonsense, Inger.” Rose hastily left the kitchen, hoping that Inger wouldn’t spread such awful gossip if she didn’t have anyone to talk to. Maybe the old biddy would eat all the apricot cookies and make herself sick.
But as Rose pushed through the swinging door, she nearly collided with Liza, Judson Ingalls’s granddaughter. The tall young woman looked especially lovely in a short, loose-fitting dress over a pair of skintight bicycle pants. It was an outfit more suited to a cosmopolitan party in a big-city high-rise, but Rose was rather pleased that Liza had chosen such an outré ensemble for that evening. She lent a certain sophistication to the party.
But from Liza’s expression, it was obvious that she had overheard Inger’s thoughtless talk. Seeing her stricken look, Rose said quickly, “Don’t listen to Miss Hansen, Liza, dear. You know she’s not right in the head.”
Liza swallowed hard. “But it’s what everybody’s saying, isn’t it? That my granddad killed his wife.”
“Liza, don’t think about the past. Just put it out of your mind. You’ve just married a very sweet man, and—”
But Liza shook her head. “I can’t forget the past. I wish I could! But the police investigation is digging into the whole awful business. I’m so afraid! I just... It’s...”
Rose set down her tray of hot canapés and took Liza’s arm. She guided the tall young woman into an alcove before the other guests noticed her momentary loss of composure. For an instant, Rose feared that Liza was going to burst into tears.
“There, there, sweetheart. It’s not so bad....”
Liza gathered her poise and managed a halfhearted smile. “I’m not myself these days. I never was the most stable person in the world, but this has really sent me over the edge! I just...I’m afraid for my grandfather, that’s all. I don’t want him to go to jail. Not now. So many things are finally going right for our family....”
“Judson won’t go to jail,” Rose said firmly.
“How can you be so sure, Mrs. Atkins?”
“Because I’ve known him a lot longer than you have, young lady. And I knew Margaret, too. I’m sure he didn’t kill her. Why, he loved her very much! She just wasn’t right for him, that’s all.”
“Did you believe she’d disappeared?”
Unwillingly, Rose shook her head. “No, I never believed that. Margaret wasn’t the type to just vanish and start a new life somewhere. She would’ve come back to town to show off. No, I suspected your grandmother had come to a bad end, Liza. I’m sorry, dear.”
“But if she was murdered, who did it?”
“Oh, there were lots of possible suspects around in the old days. She ran with a very wild crowd. Perhaps one of her beaux decided to kill her when she refused to divorce Judson.”
“Would you recognize some of her boyfriends?”
“Well, they’ve all aged, I’m sure, and—”
“No, no,” said Liza. “I brought those old photos I told you about.”
Remarkably, Liza began to rummage in her handbag and came up with a packet. Rose accepted the handful of fragile old photos and stepped closer to the light to examine the faded faces that looked up at her. “Why, yes,” she said softly, gazing at many of her old acquaintances and letting the memories swim up in her mind. “Here’s your grandmother,” she said to Liza, pointing to one picture. “Wasn’t Margaret a beauty? She looked very much like you, dear.”
Liza pointed to one of the men standing by Margaret’s chair in the photograph. “Who’s that?”
“Roddy,” Rose said promptly. “I forget his last name, but he was one of Margaret’s friends from Chicago. A wonderful dancer and quite a card player, I recall. He and Margaret were...well, very close.”
Bluntly, Liza asked, “Was he her lover?”
“I’m not sure,” Rose said uneasily. “But probably. My dear, Margaret had many friends. If you’d like me to keep these pictures for a while, I’d be happy to try to remember the names. But I didn’t know Margaret intimately. I don’t know who killed her, if anyone did. I only know it couldn’t have been Judson. He’s a kind man. And he loved her.”
Liza shivered. “Then maybe there’s a killer still on the loose in Tyler.”
Rose gave the young woman a small smile. “I’m sure there are a great many secrets floating around Tyler, my dear. Some of them are best left buried.”
“And that’s what Chief Schmidt was doing,” Liza murmured softly. “He was stalling the investigation. Sometimes I wonder if Granddad asked him to take it easy.”
“That’s possible,” Rose replied, for she knew Judson Ingalls and the police chief had been good friends for many years. “But the chief may have been doing Judson a favor, you know, without being asked.”
“What’s going to happen now that he has retired?”
With a sigh, Rose said, “Your guess is as good as mine, Liza. I doubt that Brick Bauer and the newly appointed head of the Tyler police substation will be as easygoing as Paul Schmidt has been over the years.”
“Maybe Granddad is in a lot of trouble.” Liza hugged herself to suppress more shivers of fear. Half to herself, she said, “I’ve got to do everything I can to protect him.”
Fondly, Rose patted Liza’s arm. “You’ll have a lot of help, my dear. Everyone in Tyler respects your grandfather.”
“Everyone respects him, but not everyone likes him,” Liza reminded her. “He’s made a lot of enemies over the years.”
“Please don’t worry,” Rose urged, handing her back the photos. “Everything will turn out all right.”
Liza sighed. “I wish I could be sure.”
She walked away, leaving Rose wondering for a moment if the answer to the mystery could lie in those photographs. She wished making the Ingalls family troubles go away could be as easy as looking at some old faces, but suspected many more months would pass before all the answers were unearthed.
Rose allowed the problems of the Ingalls family to slip from her mind as she entertained her guests for the rest of the evening. She enjoyed chatting with friends and neighbors, and she even met a few new people.
One new addition to Tyler was Nora Gates’s husband, the handsome Byron Forrester. The two had married after a whirlwind romance, and half the town expected the couple to split up once the first blush of romance wore off. But Nora and Byron appeared to be proving the gossips wrong. If anything, they looked more deeply in love than anyone Rose had ever known. Approvingly, she noticed that they laughed together a great deal. A marriage based on laughter was surely the best kind.
Rose surprised Nora and Byron when she slipped into the pantry for another bottle of wine and found them there. The newlyweds pretended to be admiring the collection of preserves Rose stored on the narrow shelves, but she knew at once that she had nearly caught them kissing. They joked their way out of that potentially embarrassing position.
Then Rose asked Nora, “Don’t you teach piano to Gina Santori?”
“Why, yes,” Nora replied. “I do. She’s very musical.”
“She comes from a musical family, I’m told.”
“And she’s quite an athlete, too. I’m very proud of her.” Nora smiled. “But I’m curious. Do you know if she ever got a date for the Tinsel Ball?”
With a laugh, Rose asked, “You knew about that, too?”
“Yes, but I didn’t dare give her any advice on the subject. She’s a stubborn kid.”
“Susannah played matchmaker, and Gina is going to the dance with Lars Travis, the paperboy.”
“Good choice!” Nora declared, applauding. “He and his brother Ricky take lessons from me, too. Let’s hope he and Gina have a wonderful time.”
At that moment, a chorus of voices called for Nora. The most accomplished musician in Tyler was summoned to the piano, and she graciously allowed herself to be dragged into the sitting room. Cracking a joke, she seated herself at the instrument and easily played a few bars of a popular Christmas carol. Voices soon joined in with the words, and the room swelled with the harmonizing of friends and neighbors.
As she sang along, Rose looked around the room at the faces of the people she knew and loved so well—Judson Ingalls, Susannah, the members of the Quilting Circle. Even Joe Santori and Liza Forrester—they were all men and women Rose had come to think of as family. They were part of Tyler, part of her. It was a joy to see them all gathered in her home and raising their voices in thanksgiving.
This is the most wonderful night of my life, Rose thought, standing back to study each face. Seeing Susannah’s expression as she met Joe’s gaze, noting the way Liza Forrester slid her arm around her grandfather—Rose felt a swell of happiness that life in Tyler was proceeding peacefully.
“Joe!” cried someone when the last strains of the carol died away. “Let’s hear Joe sing!”
At once, all the people in the room began to coax Joe to sing for them. He refused with a modest laugh at first, but eventually Susannah persuaded him to entertain everyone. After a short consultation with Nora at the piano, Joe good-naturedly sang a funny, upbeat version of “Jingle Bells” that caused everyone to laugh. But then Nora played the opening bars of “Ave Maria,” and Joe could hardly refuse to sing.
The song, always dramatic, began with soft and poignant phrases, which Joe carried off almost effortlessly in his beautiful baritone. But gradually, the tune’s power and reverential words called upon his upper range, and the room fell into a hushed silence as Joe closed his eyes and released the full power of his voice. The familiar tune rang out, filling the house to the rooftop and sending shivers through Rose as she listened. Gathered around the piano, the rest of the guests also listened in awe as Joe reached the climax of the song. The words hung in the air as if suspended, then Joe allowed his voice to die into a worshipful whisper. The final note quivered in the air, exquisitely emotional.
As if one person, the guests swallowed hard and burst into applause. Joe accepted their praise with an endearingly shy grin, and then he forced Nora to stand and take a bow. They gave each other a fond hug, then Nora sat down once again and really rattled the keyboard with a ragtime version of “Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer.” The crowd was soon rocking along with her, their faces suffused with the feeling of wellbeing.
Despite the noise, Rose managed to hear the doorbell ring. Surprised that a guest would be arriving so late, she worked her way through the crowd toward the door. In the entry hall, she bumped into Susannah and Joe, standing hand in hand.
“I heard the doorbell,” Susannah said to Rose. “Who could be coming at this hour?”
“We’ll find out in a minute,” Rose said. “First I must tell Joe how wonderful that was. Your voice is magnificent! I had no idea you were so accomplished.”
“Oh,” he said mildly, “I’m just an amateur.”
“He’s too modest,” Susannah protested, eyes shining. “Isn’t he, Granny Rose?”
“Modesty is just one of his many good qualities,” Rose countered, taking both their hands in hers so that they made a small family circle under the chandelier. “I think you ought to snap up this man, Suzie, dear. Before he gets away.”
Susannah blushed. “Granny Rose...”
“She’s lovely when she blushes, Joe, don’t you think?” Rose appealed to him laughingly. “Surely prettier than any other lady in your life.”
“Granny Rose!” Susannah cried, embarrassed at the merest reference to Joe’s girlfriend, Angelica.
“Susannah is the loveliest woman I’ve ever met,” Joe agreed without missing a beat.
“And isn’t it lucky that you’re standing under the mistletoe?” Rose inquired.
Joe laughed and said that it was, then swept Susannah into his arms. Without protest, Suzie slipped her hands up his chest, clinging to him as if she’d already had some practice at that, and in another moment they were kissing. They made such a charming picture, too—an attractive couple embracing beneath the mistletoe and surrounded by Christmas decorations. They were so perfectly matched that Rose found herself entranced by the sight of her granddaughter so lovingly gathered in a man’s arms—even when the doorbell sounded impatiently again.
With a chuckle, Rose turned away, saying, “I think I know what Santa’s going to bring you two.”
Joe and Susannah laughed softly, but didn’t break apart, and at that instant Rose opened the front door to the guest who had been standing irritably on the porch. For a split second, Rose didn’t recognize the man.
Then Susannah made a queer sound in the back of her throat and hastily stepped out of Joe’s arms.
“Roger?” Joe repeated. “Who’s Roger?”
“Good heavens,” said Rose, clapping her hand to her mouth. “What terrible timing!”
Roger Selby, the manager of Susannah’s television station, stepped into the house amid a flurry of snowflakes. His brow looked thunderous, and he stomped the snow from his immaculately shined wingtip shoes with the air of a man finishing an arduous journey. With a resounding thunk he dropped a fine leather valise on the floor.
“Roger...” Susannah began, but couldn’t say more.
“Who the hell is Roger?” Joe demanded.
“The man who won’t let you flush your career down the toilet, Susannah.”