New Year's Eve, just before midnight
Forbes residence
“When is Alex supposed to get here?” Ginny threw her coat into the closet and hurried to help set up for the First Footing.
“He called from Denver to say the plane was delayed by bad weather.” Her brother and his family had been spending Christmas with his wife’s parents.
“I hope they don’t have to spend the night in the airport.”
Her mother poked her nose around the corner. “He’ll let us know when there’s news. How was the party?”
“Excellent! Some of the die-hards are still at it.”
“It’s too bad Fergus couldn’t stay. He’s dark enough to count as good luck.” She was referring to the First Footing.
In the Scottish tradition, the first male visitor to cross the threshold on New Year’s Day foretold the fortunes of the family for the coming year. A fair haired visitor meant ill luck, while a dark one, especially one bearing the traditional gifts of a lump of coal for the fire, shortbread, and whisky, assured good luck for the next twelve months. The fair-haired man was said to be a reminder of the Viking attacks on Scotland in the ninth century. The tradition persisted in spite of the number of blondes and redheads common among the Scots both before and after the Viking incursions.
Ginny smiled to herself. Fergus had certainly been good luck for her. He’d fulfilled his promise to Angus. No small feat, considering what trouble she had caused. And he had offered her his friendship. When they parted, he’d taken her face in both hands and kissed her, then given her a bear hug. “You call me,” he had said, “day or night, if you need me.” And she had promised she would.
“I’m sure they’ll put him to good use in Georgetown,” she said.
“Who’s First Footing us?” Sinia asked.
“We’ve drawn Reggie MacDonald and he’s going to be busy ’til dawn. I’ve seen his list.”
Mrs. Forbes laughed. “He can handle it. What’s our position?”
“Second.”
Mrs. Forbes nodded. “Good. We’ll be done before the bells have finished.”
Ginny glanced at the clock. She’d broken away from the Hogmanay ceilidh with only fifteen minutes to spare. The clock now stood at five minutes to midnight. She grabbed the single malt and started to pour.
“His first stop is the Camerons, after which Caroline and Alan are coming here. Jim said something similar, though I think Himself drew Geordie this year and they may talk all night. I’m ready.” She picked up the tray of wee drams and set it near the door. “There go the bells!”
They could hear the Auld Kirk bells begin to ring, first tolling out the old year, followed by a jubilant peal to celebrate the birth of the new one. Ginny watched the clock. When it reached midnight exactly, she lifted a glass to her mother, who returned the salute.
“Happy New Year!”
Ginny sipped the scotch, then turned as the doorbell rang.
“That was fast!” She pulled open the door then gasped. “No!”
Alex stood on the threshold, smiling. “We made it!” He started to enter, but Ginny threw her hand out to stop him.
“Wait! Don’t cross yet!”
Alex glanced down at his watch, puzzled. “Why not? It’s still last year.”
“No, it’s not! Have you forgotten the time change?”
He gritted his teeth. “Drat! Yes! We were so glad to be airborne I forgot to reset my watch!”
Ginny stepped out into the cold night air and gave her brother a hug. “Reggie will be here in a minute, after which we can all go inside.”
“Aunt Ginny!” Three boys all embraced her at once, crowding around, then breaking away.
“Nana!” The youngest, George, made a beeline for his grandmother, who stood just inside the house looking out at the reunion taking place on her front walk.
“George, wait!” His father tried to catch him, but missed, and the rosy-skinned, blue-eyed, blonde was over the threshold and in his grandmother’s embrace before they could do anything about it.
Ginny burst out laughing. “Does it count if the fair haired male is not a man?”
Sinia Forbes gave her a rueful smile. “Aye, it does.” She kissed her grandson on the top of his head. “Well, you’d better all come in, then.” She gestured them inside with hugs and kisses all around, followed by scotch for the grownups and ginger ale for the boys.
Reggie followed hot on their heels and was invited in for his own wee dram. Caroline and Alan were right behind him and Jim and Himself showed up fifteen minutes later.
The bells had been replaced by the boom of fireworks and with the front door open, they could see the rockets going up over the loch. Someone started singing Auld Lang Syne and they all chimed in.
Jim put his arm around Ginny’s waist, then pulled her into a kiss. “Happy New Year!”
She looked up at him. “May it be quieter than the last!”
“You’re not worried, are you? About George crossing the threshold first?”
She gave him a crooked little smile, then shrugged, her hand stealing up to the talisman around her neck.
“It’s just an old wives’ tale,” she said. “No one believes in those things any more. Besides, with two murders in three months, we’ve used up our allowance of bad luck for a while. We should be fine.”
“Just superstition, huh?” He took her hand and started to pull her toward the front hall. “Like the Sight? And your talisman?”
The door was still open and the brisk winter air stirred the mistletoe hanging above the threshold. Jim reached up and plucked a berry, then gathered Ginny into his arms. “They say that couples who kiss under the mistletoe will marry within the year and have a long happy life. Care to chance it?”
Ginny laughed, slid her arms around his neck, and gave him a mocking smile. “Why not? After all, it’s just an Auld Wives’ tale!”
THE END