On Sunday night the phone rang just as Millie rinsed the last soapy dish and handed it to Albert for drying. She wiped her hands on a towel before picking up her cell. A glance at the screen revealed the caller to be her best friend.
“Hello, Violet.”
“You need to get over here.”
No preamble, no pleasantries. Not even an opening cliché, for which Violet was renowned. That in itself was enough to cause Millie concern.
“What’s happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fit as a fiddle. It’s them.”
The amount of disgust in the word left no doubt as to whom Violet was referring to. She had no fondness and little patience for the Thackers, who lived next door. Though she and Lulu had reached a kind of truce earlier that year, she found the couple unbearable and avoided them whenever possible.
“What have Lulu and Franklin done now?” Millie glanced at Albert, who turned from placing the clean skillet in the cabinet to give her his attention.
“I can’t even begin to describe it. You’ll have to see for yourself.”
The call disconnected. Millie stared the phone for a few moments, her thoughts whirling. After Friday’s conversation with Lulu, she suspected she knew the problem. Actually, she was kind of curious to see it herself.
“Get the car keys,” she told Albert. “We’ve been summoned to Mulberry Avenue.”
She expected a protest, because he had as little fondness for Franklin as Violet did. Instead, he went without a word to the hall closet and returned with their coats. Seeing them, Rufus leaped off of his bed and began to prance around Albert’s feet, toenails tapping on the tiled floor.
Albert watched the beagle for a moment before saying, “Oh, all right. You can go too.”
The air outside had turned frosty with the setting of the sun, and the drive to Mulberry Avenue wasn’t long enough for the car’s heater to warm up. Millie held her coat closed at the collar as her husband executed the turn onto the street where they’d lived for almost three decades.
“Good gravy, would you look at that?” Albert leaned forward over the steering wheel to peer through the windshield.
The Thackers’ front yard glowed with a blinding rainbow of flashing lights. At first Millie couldn’t make out any details, her eyes dazzled by the sheer volume of the garish display. As they approached the house, she was able to see better. Some of the ornaments merely glowed, like the small herd of reindeer in the center. Others blinked, while still others created the illusion of movement. A peacock appeared to spread his tail feathers, while nearby a glowing fountain sprouted glimmering blue streamers shaped to look like water. She caught sight of the frog just in time to see a string of pink lights zip from its mouth and snatch a bug from the air.
Albert pulled the car to the curb near a cluster of people on the sidewalk, gawking at the display. Violet detached herself from the group and joined Millie when she got out.
“Have you ever seen the like? It’s tackier than a church bulletin board.”
Millie shook her head, overcome by the sheer quantity of gaudiness. Albert rounded the car and joined them, Rufus trotting along beside him at the end of his leash. Rufus extended a nose toward their former yard, whimpered, and circled around to hide behind Albert’s legs. The group of staring neighbors moved sideways to engulf them.
Don Rice shook his head slowly. “I never thought to see something like that in your yard, Al.”
“It’s not mine anymore.” Only Millie knew the price Albert paid to reply in such a calm tone.
Carol, Don’s wife, cast a longing glance at Millie. “I wish you’d never moved. You were always so…” She appeared to grasp for a word. “So tasteful.”
“Yeah,” Violet agreed. “This looks like Munchkinland exploded, and we got hit by falling debris.”
“Something has to be done.” Doris Pulliam folded her arms across her chest. “Surely they’re violating some sort of city ordinance.”
“I’ve heard of codes against noise, but is there anything against lights?” asked Violet.
“We could call the mayor and ask,” Carol suggested.
But Albert shook his head. “It’s Thacker’s property. He has the right to decorate it however he wants, just like any of us.”
Millie gave her husband a shocked look. Never had she thought to hear him defending Franklin Thacker.
Doris shivered, whether from the cold or the view, Millie couldn’t guess. “Maybe if we tell them how we feel, they’ll listen.”
“Good idea.” Don turned on Albert. “You do it.”
Albert took a backward step. “Me? No!”
“Don’s right.” Violet’s lips tightened. “It’s your fault they’re here, so it’s your responsibility to fix this.”
Millie was about to leap to her husband’s defense when the door to their former house opened, and the decorators themselves appeared. At least, she assumed it was the Thackers who emerged, though at first the glare prevented her from being certain.
Franklin’s voice shouted a greeting. “Howdy, neighbors! We saw you out here admiring our decorations. They’re something, aren’t they?”
As he and Lulu threaded their way through the colorful Christmas mishmash, Violet muttered, “They sure are. Just what, I wouldn’t dare to say.”
Lulu approached Millie with a huge grin. “I told you they’d be awesome.”
Millie found herself the subject of several heavy stares. Would her friends think her partially responsible for this vulgar spectacle? The smile she gave Lulu trembled. “I had no idea.” She hoped that would appease their listeners. “It’s far more colorful than you described, and more…” She grasped for a moment. “Well, just more.”
“I know they’re amazing, but don’t get used to them.” Franklin wagged a finger at his neighbors. “They won’t be here long.”
Hope sprang into several faces.
“You’re taking them down?” Carol asked.
“You betcha.” Lulu turned and gazed with pride at her collection. “Soon as the town gets a gander at these, I’m gonna let the folks who own businesses take their pick. Just imagine how these’ll look spread all up and down Main Street.”
A long moment of silence followed as Millie, and presumably the others, did just that.
Franklin poked an elbow in Albert’s ribs. “You can have your pick, buddy. A couple of these babies is just what you need in front of that big old house of yours.”
Millie formed a silent prayer that Albert wouldn’t embarrass her by saying anything insulting.
“Thanks for the offer.” He pointed. “Those lighted deer over there would fit right in. And maybe that fountain could go in front of our gazebo.”
Millie’s jaw went slack. Surely Albert found the decorations as tawdry as everyone else. Why was he being so nice to the man he claimed regularly tap-danced on his last nerve?
Lulu planted her hands on her hips. “Now, Honey Bun, don’t be too quick to give things away. I kind of had that fountain in mind for the front of Cardwell Drug Store. You know, ’cause it has a soda fountain.”
The two guffawed, Lulu even going so far as to bend over and slap her knee.
When her husband recovered, he grinned at her. “Whatever you say, Sugar Lips.” Then he looked at his watch. “Oops! Gotta run, folks. My show’s getting ready to start. But stay out here and look all you want. Like they say, looking’s free.”
Arm in arm, the Thackers wound their way between their blinking, twinkling, hodgepodge of holiday junk. When they disappeared inside the house, Millie turned to find everyone staring at her. Violet’s expression in particular looked almost hostile.
She raised her hands in a posture of defense. “I knew she was going to buy a few decorations, but I had no idea it would be like this.”
Amid mumbles they began to wander back to their homes.
Violet tugged her hat down over her ears. “At least I have thick curtains. Between now and New Year’s, they’re gonna be closed tighter than a clam at low tide.”
As Al perused the online listings of job openings, his spirits sagged. Nothing new had been posted since yesterday. Every opening required experience in software he’d never used and some he’d never heard of. He picked up the cup resting on the table beside his laptop and drained it of its dregs. Before he had time to set the mug down, the waitress appeared.
“Another refill?” She held the coffeepot up.
“No, thank you. Six is my limit.”
She glanced at the check, which she’d left three refills ago and he had not touched. “Okay. Let me know if you need anything else.” Her smile appeared a tad forced.
She moved on to other customers, and Al glanced around the restaurant. No empty tables, and a couple of people standing near the door. Apparently he’d overstayed his welcome. He’d selected this small diner because it was off the beaten track, offered free Wi-Fi, and was located on the other side of town from his former place of employment. Who knew this little place would be so popular on a Tuesday morning?
He closed his laptop, slid it into his briefcase, and extracted his wallet. His fingers hovered for a moment over his credit card. No, Millie checked their financial activity online and would certainly question the expense. Instead, he extracted a few bills, hesitated, and then added several more. Best to leave a generous tip because he would probably be back.
He sat for a long time in his car, staring out the window. Where to next? There was a fast-food restaurant nearby that had complimentary Internet. But his watch showed that noon was not far off, and he didn’t relish the chaos of the lunchtime rush. Neither did he look forward to a boring afternoon like yesterday, driving around town listening to talk radio, burning time and gasoline.
An idea struck, and he straightened in his seat. The library. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Not only did the library have computers, it had newspapers from all over. Tons of want ads to peruse. And librarians didn’t care if people hung out there for hours.
His spirits brighter, he started the car.
Millie pulled the last bill off the printer and added it to the stack on the veterinary reception desk. “There you go. All ready to fold, stuff, and send out.”
Alice, the afternoon receptionist, hovered nearby, waiting for Millie to vacate the only chair. “They’ll go out in tomorrow’s mail.”
With a final glance at the desk’s surface, Millie surrendered the chair to Alice. The action had taken on an official feel, like the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace. In just over a year, when she and Albert retired, she would turn over the reception job to Alice completely. Already she’d backed off to only three days a week, ostensibly to allow her more time to work on readying the B&B for its eventual opening. In reality, she wanted to allow the single mother the opportunity to put in more hours. Alice needed the money worse than she did.
The muffled sound of a ringing phone came from the bottom drawer of the file cabinet. Millie hurried to retrieve her purse and fish out her cell. After a glance at the small screen, she could not hold back a moan. She’d been dreading this call since Sunday night. With a grimace, she pressed the button.
“Hello, Frieda. How are you today?”
“I’m shocked, that’s what I am.” The owner of the Freckled Frog Consignment Shop barked in a tone that made Millie wince. “How could you let this happen?”
No sense in pretending she didn’t know what Frieda was talking about. “I haven’t let anything happen. I tried to talk her out of buying all those decorations, but it’s not my place to tell her how to spend her own money.”
“I realize that, and if she wants to turn her yard into a National Lampoon look-alike, that’s her business. But I’m telling you, not a single one of those atrocities will go on Main Street. I won’t allow it.”
Normally the comment would have irritated Millie. Frieda owned one of a dozen downtown businesses, and though she was certainly the most vocal, her role of spokesperson was self-appointed. Her opinion mattered no more than anyone else’s.
Unfortunately, in this case the majority of the town would probably agree with her.
“I understand. And as long as every store up and down the street refuses, the matter will end there.”
“But what if they don’t? How do we know what Tuesday and Brett will do?”
Frieda had a point. The owner of Tuesday’s Day Spa certainly did have eclectic tastes. She’d probably go into ecstasy over the peacock ornament. And it didn’t take much imagination to picture Brett Hockensmith agreeing to a flashing, multicolored horse sculpture in front of his saddle and tack store.
Though Millie shuddered at the necessity, she offered a weak defense. “I don’t see how we can stop them.” She rushed on before Frieda could disagree. “Not that I want those gaudy things all over Goose Creek, but everyone has the same right as Lulu to decorate their property however they want.”
Frieda answered in a tight voice. “What they do inside their stores is their own business. But we’ve got to stop them from putting cheap, trashy displays in their front windows, where they can be seen from the outside.”
Susan emerged from the clinic area brushing black fur from her lab coat. Propping the phone against her ear with a shoulder, Millie took the lint roller from the file cabinet and handed it to her.
“I agree that we can say no to the light sculptures on public property, but when it comes to telling people how they can decorate their display windows, that’s out of our hands.”
Susan paused in the act of cleaning her right sleeve, her eyebrows arched. Millie rolled her eyes and mouthed, Frieda Devall. Susan gave a knowing nod.
“I refuse to let Goose Creek become a laughingstock. You need to put a rein on Lulu before she starts giving those things out, which I hear she’s planning to do at the hanging of the greens on Friday.” Frieda’s voice became serious. “I’m sure the majority of the business owners will support me on this. Things could get ugly if we have to take sides.”
Frieda’s tone held a stubborn determination that Millie found a bit frightening. Once before Goose Creek’s residents had been at odds over a public display—the painting of the town’s iconic water tower. Though that had turned out well in the end, the battle had taken its toll in terms of damage to friendships. Christmas was not the time for another skirmish.
Resigned to her fate, Millie’s shoulders sagged. “Fine. I’ll talk to Lulu.”
“Good. And do it today, before she does any more harm.”
Though tempted to bristle at the commanding tone, Millie agreed and meekly ended the call. She dropped the phone in her purse and turned to find both Susan and Alice watching her.
“Trouble with the Christmas decorations, huh?” Susan gave her a sympathetic smile. “Justin and I drove over to see them last night. They’re kind of overwhelming.”
“My kids love them.” Alice shrugged. “They’re only kids.”
“Yes, well, Frieda is not a kid, and she definitely doesn’t love them.”
Susan finished with the lint roller and dropped it back into the drawer. “You look lovely today, Alice.”
Millie shouldered her handbag and then took a closer look at Alice. She did look especially nice. Painfully shy, Alice usually dressed in shapeless clothing that gave her a rather mousy appearance. Today she wore a pretty print blouse and fitted slacks. And lipstick! Millie would have sworn Alice didn’t own a lipstick. Maybe she borrowed her teenage daughter’s. But why?
A blush stained her cheeks, and Alice muttered, “Thank you,” while busying herself with straightening the stack of invoices.
Susan caught Millie’s glance over Alice’s head. “Who’s on the schedule for the afternoon?”
“Oh, let’s see.” With movements that appeared carefully nonchalant, Alice tapped a key on the keyboard. “Mrs. Pennyweather is bringing her Siamese in for his annual shots, and Ben Hardister wants you to look at his Yorkie’s ears. Oh, and Ansel Crowder is bringing Goob back for a recheck of that snake bite.”
At the mention of Ansel Crowder, the blush deepened, and Susan’s grin became knowing. Aha! Did Alice have a beau?
Normally, Millie would have leaped on a matchmaking opportunity like this one. She had a soft spot for Alice and certainly wished her well, but today she had other things on her mind.
“I’ll leave you to it, then. If you need help tomorrow, let me know. Otherwise, have a Happy Thanksgiving.” She had taken Wednesday off to cook pies and other holiday goodies for their dinner up in Cincinnati with her sons’ families.
“We’ll be fine,” Susan assured her. “Happy Thanksgiving to you, Millie. Have a safe trip.”
Concern darkened Alice’s pale eyes. “I hope you get everything worked out with those decorations so you can enjoy the holiday.”
“That’s my plan.” Extracting her keys from her purse, Millie jingled them in a goodbye wave. “I’ll go have a talk with Lulu right now before Frieda assembles a militia to take her down.”