A Crafty Christmas (25 page)

Beatrice untangled herself from her blankets and quilts. Damn, something smelled good. Someone was making breakfast and she hoped it wasn't Jon, who was told not to use his right arm. He needed to take it easy. It was a miracle that a man in his seventies had survived that kind of trauma.

She bounded down the steps—well, as much as her bones could bound at eight-thirty in the morning—ready to give him a piece of her mind. But she was surprised to find Eric and Vera cooking.

Jon, who was sitting at the table, smiled up at her. “Good morning,” he said.

“Hungry, Mom?” Vera said, holding up a plate of gingerbread pancakes. “This is one of Eric's mother's recipes. I thought we could try it.”

Beatrice nodded as Elizabeth danced into the room. “Morning, Granny. Pancakes!”

“Good morning, sugar. They sure smell heavenly,” Beatrice said, and smacked her lips together.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and saw the snow falling against the window. “Land sakes, look at the snow! There must be about six inches.”

“And it's still coming down,” Eric said, flipping a pancake.

“We were just talking about the past few weeks,” Jon said, as Elizabeth skipped out of the room to watch TV. “Trying to make sense of it.”

“Senseless,” Beatrice said.

“I'm afraid Sheila is still feeling guilty,” Vera said, setting down a plate of stacked pancakes. The table was already set, in a scattered way. Beatrice detected Lizzie's help.

“She probably will for a while,” Beatrice surmised. “But none of it was her fault, of course.”

“I hope she can stay focused on all the good things coming her way,” Vera said, and sat down.

“Why did they let Sharon out in the first place?” Jon said. “I do not understand.”

“They thought Sharon was okay. She'd served her term. And she might have been okay if she hadn't stopped taking her medicine after she left the Institute,” Beatrice said.

Jon clicked his tongue and shook his head. “But what about the woman who shot me? Why was she free when she was so ill?”

Beatrice placed the pancakes on her plate and reached for the butter. Jon was doing the same.” She was ill too, and she and Sharon, dressed up as Sam, had met in a support group of some kind.”

“Sharon really researched the scrapbooking community,” Eric said, dropping a few fresh pancakes onto the stack. “It's a lot of effort to go to in order to kill someone. Such an orchestration.”

“Yes, and a twisted one at that,” Jon said.

“Lizzie, come eat,” Vera called as Eric sat down at the table.

“You know, it was a wonderful Christmas dinner last night,” Beatrice said. As usual, by her third or fourth drink of coffee, things were perking up.

“I agree,” Eric said. “It was great to see the way everybody pulled together to give the Rogerses a decent Christmas since they couldn't get into their home.”

“What's with them calling Cookie's house a safe house?” Vera said. “I thought that was a technical term for a place the cops always use to hide someone.”

“I don't know,” Beatrice said. “Maybe they're not using it in quite the same way. Maybe they are using ‘safe' as a way of saying ‘no ricin.'”

“Could be,” Eric said. “Or it could be the property of the police since Cookie escaped from jail. I'm sure they seized it.”

Beatrice's and Vera's eyes met, then lowered, each to her own plate. They didn't like to talk about Cookie. Beatrice herself was fond of the young woman, but talking about her made it all seem too real. They would each come to terms with her disappearance in their own way.

“How does someone escape from jail these days? I thought it was supposed to be impossible,” Jon asked.

“Well,” Beatrice said. “Aren't you just full of questions this morning?”

Jon smiled. “Of course.”

“The truth is,” Vera said, “nobody knows how Cookie escaped. The security tapes from that day were a mess.”

“I hear they've beefed up security since then,” Beatrice said.

“They certainly botched the rescue attempt at the B and B,” Eric said.

“I'm not so sure about that,” Vera said, cutting into her stack of pancakes. “They had no idea there was a hostage situation inside, from my understanding. They were just there to question Theresa Graves. The FBI had pretty much fingered her as Sharon Milhouse's killer.”

“In the meantime, Sharon had killed three people with her poison, while she was disguised as a man,” Beatrice said.

“I'm not sure why she bothered dressing as a man,” Vera said. “She used her name on the cruise registry.”

“She had to—that's the name on her credit card,” Eric said.

“It was just a disguise, and you know it was one that not everybody could pull off. But she was very masculine-looking, even without the disguise,” Beatrice said. “A cruel one. Sharon fashioned herself into a perfect man for the sake of luring Theresa in and it worked. Theresa was so desperate. Sad.”

“And in the end her desperation led to killing,” Vera said.

“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation,” Jon muttered.

“Quoting Thoreau now?” Beatrice said, eyebrows lifted.

“Why not?” he said, and shrugged.

Beatrice sat back and reveled in the people in her kitchen and the warm, spicy gingerbread pancake flavor that lingered on. She caught a glance exchanged between Eric and Vera. Was it love? Elizabeth was humming “Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer” and eating the gingerbread pancakes in front of her.

Beatrice reached out and touched Jon's hand. “Merry Christmas, Jon.”

“Really, Mike? When do you think I'd have time to have an affair with Adam Bryant?” Annie shot at him as she got ready to leave for the Saturday crop.

“I'm not saying you're having an affair. I'm just saying that it was a very tender moment between you and I felt like an outsider in your life,” Mike said.

“Mike, I didn't know if I was going to live or die,” she said calmly. “I didn't know if Jon was dead or alive. Or Elsie for that matter. I have no idea what I was feeling or thinking. But believe me, if I had seen you first, I would have been in your arms. Hell, if I had seen Steve first, he'd have been the one.”

His eyes caught hers. Something was exchanged. A moment of truth. There was no need for talking at that moment. A few more beats of silence.

“I've noticed the way he looks at you, sometimes. Did you think I didn't notice?” Mike said, as if it hurt him to speak.

Annie felt like the breath was knocked out of her. She held her arms open and sort of shrugged. “I'm really not paying much attention to what Bryant does or how he looks at me. Mike, I love you. We are married. I'm not going anywhere.”

Mike shifted his weight a bit. “You'd think I'd be used to other men looking at you.”

“Hey, it goes both ways. I used to see other women checking you out all the time when we lived in Bethesda. Remember that Louise?” she teased him.

He smiled. “Yep.”

She slid into the open space between his arm and shoulder, as he lifted his arm. He wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, Annie, I love you so much,” he said with his voice cracking.

“I know that,” she said, blinking back a tear. “And I love you, too.”

“Hey, it's getting late. Don't you have a crop tonight?” he said, looking at the clock.

“I do, but I'm not going unless we are okay, Mike,” she answered, looking into his deep brown eyes.

“Of course we are,” he said. “Now, you better get going and rechristen the basement, now that you all are allowed back in there.”

“Thanks, Mike,” she said.

The boys were already in bed. She grabbed her roller-bag and headed for Sheila's. Thank goodness the Rogerses were back in their home. What would the croppers do without their basement every Saturday? Annie didn't want to think about it.

As she entered the room, she drew back a moment and took the scene in. Vera was hovering over DeeAnn, who was holding green lacey doilies. “You can paint these things any color you want,” she told her. “I'm just loving the doilies.”

“We saw them used every which way on the cruise. I saw a lovely border made with them. I've seen people using them for negative space. And oh, I loved the oversized one on pages where people used them as a background. Really creative,” Sheila said.

Paige and Vera were already settled in and at work on their scrapbooks.

“Look who finally made it,” Sheila said.

“What's that?” Annie said, noticing an old cardboard box on the floor.

“Those are Elsie's photos. We're doing a scrapbook for her. If you want to help, that would be great,” Sheila said.

Annie nodded, thinking about all the times she'd helped put together scrapbooks for people who were killed. Too many. But she liked the idea of working on something together, something that had meaning, something that might provide some comfort to a traumatized woman.

Annie selected a few photos from Elsie's high school years, and next she chose a lovely lilac-colored paper. She started playing around with placement, thinking about embellishments.

“How is Jon?” Sheila asked.

“He's doing well,” Vera said. “Mama is taking real good care of him.” She placed her scissors on the table and held up her page, grimacing. There was something about it she didn't like.

Annie got up, reached into the fridge for a beer, opened it, and took a swig.

“How are thing with Mike?” Vera asked.

“Good,” Annie said. “I think I finally have him convinced I don't have the hots for Bryant.”

“God, Annie, are you blind? We all have the hots for him!” DeeAnn laughed.

Annie didn't crack a smile, even as the others laughed and made leering noises.

“That is one hunk of a man. Here, darlin', have some chocolate peanut butter cookies. Good for you,” said DeeAnn, and she slid the plate over to Annie as she sat back down at the table. “I'm so tired of baking right now I could scream.”

“I bet you are,” Vera said, not looking up from her work.

“Did the police ever find out who placed the postcard in your box?” DeeAnn asked Sheila.

“Yes,” Sheila said. “Sharon came to town about the same time we were leaving. She was registered at the B and B. Nobody saw her do it, but Bryant says it's safe to assume.”

“When do you leave for Minnesota?” Annie asked DeeAnn.

“Day after tomorrow. I'm not sure this is going to be a pleasant visit. But I'd like to see my mom—even if she doesn't know who I am,” DeeAnn said. Her mom was riddled with Alzheimer's.

“It will do you good,” Sheila said, sitting down at the table and opening her laptop. Then she looked up. “Well, here we are, cropping on a Saturday night, as if we don't have anything else to do.”

Annie took another drink of beer.

Sheila's face said it all. She was glad to be home, off the cruise, away from dead bodies, and back in her own surroundings.

“I know I won't be sailing the high seas anytime soon,” Paige said. “But it sure was nice spending time with Randy.”

“I'd be perfectly fine to never step foot on another cruise,” Vera said. “I did hear that Ahoy's chief of security has been fired. Imagine that. Firing a vampire.”

The group laughed.

“Yes, I've gotten so many apologies from Grace Irons,” Sheila said. “This is the first time they hired Ahoy Security. She was mortified. So was the cruise line. I know it's kind of funny, but it turns out that the chief has something called Renfield's syndrome, which is a kind of mental illness. He can get help for it.”

“I imagine,” said Annie, sitting down at her spot at the table. Her spot—she loved the familiarity. She picked up a postcard from Hannah, who had been in New York City a few days now.

Annie grinned.

“How is she?” Vera said, looking over her shoulder.

“She's smitten, I'd say,” Annie said. “I have to wonder if she will come back and marry like she's supposed to.”

“Time will tell,” DeeAnn said.

Just then, Annie heard the sliding glass door open. Who could it be? All of the croppers were here: Vera, Paige, DeeAnn, Sheila, and herself. Sometimes Beatrice stopped by, but she was certainly home with Jon as he was recuperating.

Annie started to look over her shoulder, but Vera glanced up first and her mouth dropped open. Paige dropped her scissors. DeeAnn's fork hit her plate with a clank. When Annie finally turned around, she glimpsed why her friends had been rendered senseless.

Their old friend Cookie Crandall stood there.

“Any room for me at the table?”

Acid-free:
Acid is a chemical found in paper that will disintegrate it over time. Acid will ruin photos. It's very important to use papers, pens, and other supplies labeled “acid-free,” or eventually the acid may ruin cherished photos and layouts.

 

Adhesive:
Any kind of glue or tape can be considered an adhesive. In scrapbooking, there are several kinds of adhesives: tape runners, glue sticks, and glue dots.

 

Brad:
This is similar to a typical split pin, but it is found in many different sizes, shapes, and colors. It is commonly used for embellishment.

 

Challenge:
Within the scrapbooking community, challenges are issued in groups as a way to instill motivation.

 

Crop:
Technically, to crop means to cut down a photo. However, a crop is also a gathering of scrapbookers who get together to create scrapbooks. A crop can be anything from a group of friends getting together to a more official gathering where scrapbook materials are for sale, games are played, and challenges are issued, and so on. Online crops are a good alternative for people who don't have a local scrapbook community.

 

Die-cut:
This is a shape or letter cut from paper or card stock, usually by machine or by using a template.

 

Embellishment:
An embellishment is an item, other than words or photos, that enhances a scrapbook page. Typical embellishments are ribbons, fabric, and stickers.

 

Eyelet:
These small metal circles, similar to the metal rings found on shoes for threading laces, are used in the scrapbook context as a decoration and can hold elements on a page.

 

Journaling:
This is the term for writing on scrapbook pages. It includes everything from titles to full pages of thoughts, feelings, and memories about the photos displayed.

 

Matting:
Photos in scrapbooks are framed with a mat. Scrapbookers mat with coordinating papers on layouts, often using colors found in the photos.

 

Page protector:
These are clear, acid-free covers that are used to protect finished pages.

 

Permanent:
Adhesives that will stay are deemed permanent.

 

Photo corners:
A photo is held to a page by slipping its corners into photo corners. They usually stick on one side.

 

Post-bound album:
This term refers to an album that uses metal posts to hold the binding together. These albums can be extended with more posts to make them thicker. Usually page protectors are already included on the album pages.

 

Punch:
This is a tool used to perforate paper or card stock with decorative shapes.

 

Punchies:
The paper shapes that result from using a paper punch tool are known as punchies. These can be used on a page for a decorative effect.

 

Repositionable adhesive:
Magically, these adhesives do not create a permanent bond until dry, so you can move an element dabbed with the adhesive around on the page until you find just the perfect spot.

 

Scraplift:
When a scrapbooker copies someone's page layout or design, she has scraplifted.

 

Scrapper's block:
This is a creativity block.

 

Strap-hinge album:
An album can utilize straps to allow pages to lie completely flat when the album opens. To add pages to this album, the straps are unhinged.

 

Template:
A template is a guide for cutting shapes, and for drawing or writing on a page. They are usually made of plastic or cardboard.

 

Trimmer:
A trimmer is a tool used for straight-cutting photos.

 

Vellum:
Vellum is a thick, semitransparent paper with a smooth finish.