introduced Myrtle to the other guests, hoping that this unpredictable woman wouldn’t do something to immediately alienate herself from the rest of the group, but to her surprise, Myrtle seemed in good spirits now. And soon she was visiting with Leslie, examining her knitted vest, and giving her tips on how Leslie could’ve done it even better. Oh, well.
Edith went to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of tea. As she turned on the teakettle, she wondered about Myrtle and what they would do about her. Perhaps it would be best if they restricted her from going to town at all. Edith could offer to fix her simple meals to eat in the kitchen, since she spent half her time in there anyway. But how could they force her to comply? It wasn’t as if they were her legal guardians. Perhaps Charles would have some ideas.
The afternoon tea party slowly broke up, with some people going to town, others to their rooms. Charles joined Edith in the kitchen. “Everything going okay?” he asked, and she suspected that her face, as usual, was giving away her concerns.
So she told him about the little fiasco in town with Myrtle. Of course, this only made him laugh. “I can just imagine the look on poor Drummel’s face,” he said after he’d recovered.
“That’s not all,” she continued, telling him how Myrtle had “invited” everyone to the church’s Christmas pageant.
He shook his head. “Well, don’t worry, Edith, I doubt that it’ll make a difference one way or another. And, besides, I’m sure she meant well.”
“Just the same, I think we should have a talk with her,” said Edith.
“Meaning, I should have a talk with her?”
“Well, you’re better at these things . . .
“Perhaps we can make it seem as if she’s our special guest,” said Edith suddenly. “We can tell her that since she doesn’t have a car and it’s difficult for her to get to town . . . that we’d like her to share meals with us. Would that be okay?”
He nodded. “That sounds like a wise plan.”
So they put it to her, and to Edith’s great surprise and relief, Myrtle seemed perfectly fine with this idea. When the three of them sat down to a humble meal of black-bean soup and cornbread, Edith looked out the kitchen window. She saw that fluffy white snowflakes, illuminated by the back-porch light, were tumbling down.
“It’s snowing,” she said with childlike enthusiasm. “Perhaps it’ll be a white Christmas after all.”
Charles nodded. “The weatherman is wrong again.”
“They should hire weathermen with old bones like mine,” commented Myrtle. “Then they’d know for sure if it was going to rain or snow. My joints have been aching something fierce all day.”
“Well, I’m sure that it didn’t help to walk back and forth to town,” said Edith. “Fortunately, you won’t have to do that anymore.”
Myrtle just nodded without commenting, and for some reason Edith wasn’t so sure she was going to be able to keep Myrtle from her anti-Christmas antics. She might have to keep a special eye on this woman during the next few days.
It had been a long day, but it finally seemed as if things were settling down at the Shepherd’s Inn. The guests were all back from their various dinner places. Even the somber Albert Benson had ventured out. Now everyone was in their rooms, and Edith and Charles were turning off the downstairs lights when they heard a knock at the door.
“Who could that be at this hour?” asked Edith.
“We’ll soon find out,” said Charles as he went to open the door. A blast of chilly winter air mixed with snow burst in, and there on the porch stood a young couple.
Edith blinked as she looked over Charles’s shoulder to see them better. These people looked as if they’d stepped right out of time. The tall, narrow-faced man had long brown hair and a full beard, and the shoulders of his dark woolen coat were dusted with snow. But it was the young woman who got Edith’s attention with her sad dark eyes