Shadows on a Maine Christmas (Antique Print Mystery Series Book 7) (3 page)

Christmas Out Of Doors.
Winslow Homer wood engraving for
Harper’s Weekly
, December 25, 1858. One of Homer’s illustrations showing disparities in American culture. On a snowy city street corner two drunks hold each other up, a boy with a shovel asks for work, and an old woman looks troubled. Above them, in a private home, though a wreath-decorated window, two wealthier women are celebrating Christmas. 5.75 x 9.15 inches. Price: $225.

The rest
of the day sped by. Aunt Nettie happily announced that all three of her friends had accepted her invitation, and she refused to take her after-lunch nap until they’d installed the tree in the living room and made sure it fit in the corner.

The small room was going to be very full. But after all, it was Christmas. The more the merrier.

The tree needed to “relax” after coming inside, so although Aunt Nettie looked expectantly at the boxes of ornaments and lights Will brought downstairs, she handed Maggie a list of what they’d need from the grocery store for her party, and agreed to lie down while Will and Maggie did errands.

Maggie left her soaking boots inside to dry and wore her sneakers on this trip, assured that the parking lots would be plowed. “I’m glad Aunt Nettie is going to have her party. She seems so excited about it.”

“I don’t mind her inviting her friends to the house. I only wish she’d talked to me about it before you got here. I’d made plans for us, and now we’re planning around her.”

“Doreen Strait seemed excited about the party, too. I guess it really is a tradition with them.”

“Tradition or not. She should have talked to me before you got here.” Will sighed. “But I should try to get Aunt Nettie out more to see her friends. She hasn’t socialized much since I’ve been here.”

“I suspect you haven’t done much of that either. It’s tough on both of you.”

Will glanced at her. “Not easy. But it’s the way life is now. This fall I’ve kept busy getting the house set up. Now that’s done, I’m hoping to have new projects to keep me amused.”

“Oh?”

“For one thing, I’m going to try selling my antiques on-line. Maybe eBay. That’s what I’m setting up in Aunt Nettie’s old bedroom upstairs.”

“Really? We’ve talked about that before,” said Maggie. “We didn’t think it would work well for either of our specialties. Prints, because they don’t show well on-line, and kitchen and fireplace tools because of their shipping weight.”

“True. But neither of us has actually tried it, and my situation is different now. I can’t travel to shows, and there’s a limit to how much I can sell locally. So I decided I’d test our assumptions; see if on-line could work. I have the inventory. I have the time. Might as well give it a try.”

Maggie nodded. “Why not?”

“I’ve got a camera and tripod set up, and basic mailing supplies. I’m going to let people on my customer list know where to find me on-line, and then begin listing my smaller, less expensive pieces, after the first of the year. Start slowly. Give it six months. Maybe a year. If it doesn’t work, I should know by then. If it does work, great. The best part is, I can do it on my own time, while Aunt Nettie is napping, or late at night.” The car in front of them pulled over to check out the wreaths and kissing balls being sold by a vendor on the side of the road, the way blueberries were sold in late July. “In today’s world we have to keep trying new ways to reach customers. Like your putting your antique prints in Gussie’s new shop on Cape Cod.”

“I’m still excited about that. The shop looks wonderful. I took a lot of prints there Thanksgiving week. Gussie’s already sold a couple of thousand dollars’ worth. Of course, she gets a percentage. But those are prints I wouldn’t have sold otherwise. We’re both pleased.”

“How often will you have to go to the Cape to change inventory?”

“We haven’t decided yet. She and Jim are taking a delayed honeymoon cruise in January and then plan to relax and organize their new house, so after Christmas she’s going to close the shop until March. I’m planning to take a couple of days during spring break at the college to drive up to visit and add more botanicals and other spring prints.”

“Here we are.” Will turned into the busy Hannaford Supermarket parking lot, and for the next hour the most serious discussion they had was deciding which cheeses would be best for the fondue Maggie suggested she make for dinner (a combination of Swiss and Gruyere) and how many loaves of thin-sliced bread they’d need for Aunt Nettie’s tea sandwiches.

Maggie had a sudden memory of having tea at Lord & Taylor’s Bird Cage Room as a child and eating tea sandwiches filled with colored cream cheese and chopped olives. And egg salad. And liver pâté. Will watched with amusement as she got more and more excited about the party, looking at Aunt Nettie’s list, calling on her memory, and filling the cart.

“Maybe we could have crabmeat sandwiches, too. Or shrimp?” she said, lingering over the seafood section. “How wonderful to be able to get fresh fish at the local grocery.”

“Why don’t we just have a bowl of shrimp?” Will asked. “Not everything has to be a sandwich, does it? It doesn’t matter if we have too much. We can eat the leftovers.”

Maggie agreed. “A bowl of shrimp, then. And maybe four or five kinds of sandwiches. Oh—and one of them has to be cucumber, of course!”

“Of course,” said Will, trying to keep a straight face. “I am now seeing a side of Maggie Summer I never dreamed of. Cucumber sandwiches?”

“With a touch of red onion,” she added, ignoring his gibe. “And black pepper, of course. And mayonnaise.”

The cart load was growing higher.

“You realize I’m an unemployed man,” teased Will.

“Oh, let me do this. My house gift for Aunt Nettie,” said Maggie.

“Don’t worry. It’s not a problem,” said Will. “Although don’t plan on doing this every day.”

“Of course not. We’ll be eating oatmeal three times a day from now on.” She reached up and kissed him. “With blueberries. I remember. You said Aunt Nettie liked that.” Several people walking by smiled, wheeling their carts around them.

“Maggie! This is a supermarket.” Will blushed slightly behind his beard.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Maggie checked Aunt Nettie’s list one more time. “I think that’s it. All we have to do is decorate the tree and the house, and make the sandwiches right before the party, put Christmas music on in the background, and we’ll be set.”

Will checked the time. “Aunt Nettie will be waking up, and I can get the lights on the tree while you cut up the bread and grate the cheese. I’m looking forward to your fondue. As I remember, the tradition is that if you drop a piece of bread in the fondue you get a kiss. Right?”

“You won’t even have to drop the bread,” Maggie assured him, and gave him a preview.

The Christmas-Tree.
Wood engraving by Winslow Homer for
Harper’s Weekly
, December 25, 1858. (Companion to print at beginning of Chapter 5.) Scene in an elegant home where a dozen children are playing around the Christmas tree with a drum, doll, and bugle. Father holds up more gifts for them. Seven adults watch and smile, enjoying the scene. 5.75 x 9.15 inches. Price: $225.

Decorating
the tree took longer than Maggie had anticipated. Each ornament had to be placed in the best spot, and almost every ornament had its own history to be recalled and shared. But by noon the next day Aunt Nettie declared it “Perfect!”

And it was. Maggie admitted to herself that she hadn’t cared as much about a tree since she’d been a child. That caring made the tree, and the holiday itself, special.

The extra pine branches they’d brought back from the woods were now on the tops of cabinets and around the banister to the second floor; candy canes filled glasses on the tables; and red candles stood festively in silver candlesticks on the living room mantel. The fireplace was newly stacked with wood, ready to light. All was ready for Aunt Nettie’s party except the food, and they had twenty-four hours to prepare that.

“For lunch we can heat the rest of the fondue and serve it like Welsh rarebit, on toast,” suggested Maggie. The fondue had been delicious, but it would be good to finish what was left before they started cooking again.

“Today while you’re taking your nap, Aunt Nettie, Maggie and I are going out for a drive. Just to get a little fresh air. We won’t be gone long.”

“Take your time. I’m a little weary from decorating the tree,” Aunt Nettie agreed. “Why don’t you stop and get those good fried scallops and haddock we like so much for dinner.”

“Good idea. And when I get home I’ll make a salad to go with them,” Will promised. “Take it easy until we get back. Save your strength for your party tomorrow.”

After Aunt Nettie was safely nestled beneath her quilts, Maggie and Will were off.

“To get fresh air?” Maggie asked quizzically.

“Actually, I wanted to show you something. Get your opinion about an idea I have.”

“You know I seldom keep my opinions to myself.” Whatever he was going to show her, Maggie had the feeling it was important. She braced herself a little. Should she bring up her adoption plans? Or wait until he asked about them? Everything was going well so far. True, they hadn’t discussed any sort of mutual future. But they had plenty of time. And every day they spent together was a gift.

Will turned toward Waymouth’s harbor and began slowing down.

“I remember this street,” Maggie said. “The first summer I came to Maine you brought me here, to Walter English’s Antiques Mall.”

She’d been both intrigued and amused by the three-story Victorian house crammed with a motley collection of antiques. The local auctioneer also did appraisals there and met prospective clients for his auction house.

“I thought you’d remember it.” He stopped the car in front of the house. “We didn’t go here last summer because Walter’d closed it down. The roof leaked, and the dealers who’d rented space there weren’t making enough sales. A lot of them hadn’t renewed their contracts. Walter decided to concentrate on his auction business.”

“Which explains the FOR SALE sign in front now.”

“Exactly.”

They sat for a couple of minutes.

“And you brought me here because…”

He turned toward her. “I’m thinking of buying the place.”

Thoughts whirled through Maggie’s head. Was he thinking of living here someday? Was this part of the marriage proposal he’d made in October? Or was he thinking of running an antiques mall himself? Did he want her business advice, or her personal thoughts? How should she react? How serious was he?

“Why? What would you do with it?” she asked cautiously.

“Obviously it needs a lot of work. But I think it could be turned into an upscale antiques mall.”

An antiques mall. Not a home. Half of her felt relieved, and yet somehow, the other half was disappointed. It was a grand old house. Fixed up, it would be a wonderful place to raise a family. But realistically, it was too big. Hadn’t there been about eight bedrooms on the second floor alone? And she remembered the dark, cluttered hallways and high ceilings. “You’re thinking of running an antiques mall? Being a landlord?” Maggie said quietly.

“It needs a new roof, new wiring, and new paint, and most of the windows need to be replaced. It was too hot in the summer, as you may remember, and to make it a year-’round business it would need to be heated better in the winter.”

Maggie watched Will as he talked. He was excited about the idea, and wanted her approval. But why should her approval matter?

“I don’t want to be a downer. And I don’t know how much Walter English is asking. But those improvements will cost a lot,” she pointed out. “The last antiques mall failed. Plus, you’ve said you have to spend most of your time with Aunt Nettie. You can’t be here, too.”

“All that’s true. But I want to reinvest the money I got from selling my house in Buffalo. And the mall I have in mind isn’t like Walter’s. I’m thinking early American furniture and fine art and maybe a silver or jewelry dealer. Perhaps a place people could bring their antiques to be appraised or restored. Like a group of upscale shops. I could do a lot of the building myself, and you remember I have cousins in the construction business. I could probably work a deal with Rachel’s husband to have his guys do the electrical work, and my cousin Giles and his son have already agreed to work for me evenings and weekends, off the books, if I buy the place.”

“You’re serious about this.”

“I am. But I wanted to know what you thought before I made an offer.”

Maggie hesitated. “It sounds exciting. You’ve thought it over, and you know the area and dealers and potential customers better than I do. But it’s a huge investment, Will. Not only of money, but of time. You already have so much to do. You’re taking care of Aunt Nettie and her house. You’re going to try on-line sales. And this place …” Maggie looked at the old house towering over them. “It needs a lot of care. It could eat up all you have and leave you with nothing.”

“Or it could give me something for myself, outside of Aunt Nettie’s little house.”

Maggie suddenly saw it through those eyes.

“And if the antiques mall didn’t work out, you’d have fixed up a grand old house and would be able to turn it over.”

“I suppose that’s true,” said Will. “But I’m not ready to give up on it before I’ve started.” He put one of his hands on hers. “Unless you hate it. Unless you really think it’s a waste of time and you don’t like the idea at all.”

Maggie felt pushed into a corner. “I’ve never exhibited in a mall, Will. You have. You know much more than I do about this. And you’ve already checked out the house and what needs to be done to it. I only saw it once, two years ago. It’s your project. If this is what you want to do, then do it. Don’t ask me to make your decision for you.”

“I’d like you to see the inside of the house again. I was so excited at telling you about the place I’ve probably rushed you. Let me call the real estate agent and we can walk through together, after the party. Okay?”

“If you’d like me to.” Maggie squeezed his hand. “I remember liking the house. But I’m no expert on Victorian home repairs.”

“That’s my world. I just want to know if you can imagine it transformed into the kind of mall I’m talking about. You have an eye for that sort of thing. You’re better at setting up booths at antiques shows than I am, and here I’m thinking of setting up a whole house.”

“I promise I’ll look at the house and give you my opinion,” Maggie said. “But only because you’re right about one thing. I am better at setting up booths than you are!”

Will bent over and kissed her. And then kissed her again.

While Maggie wondered: what was it about this house Will wasn’t telling her?