Читать книгу Mrs. Morris and the Ghost of Christmas Past - Traci Wilton - Страница 14

CHAPTER SIX

Charlene woke up early on Monday morning, feeling refreshed from a good night’s sleep. After Jared’s death, sleep became a distant memory. Now in her new home she was getting six or seven hours of uninterrupted rest. It was a blessing.

She took her shower and made her bed, still chuckling over Jack’s story about Maddie and Emily from the night before. “They saw your father, asleep in the chair, and snuck up behind him with Silva, brushing his nose with the cat’s tail.” Jack had reenacted her father’s surprise—Dad had jumped awake, but seeing the two girls and the cat, he’d waggled a finger at them—they feared they might be in trouble until he couldn’t hide his smile, and they’d all laughed.

Charlene had dressed for shopping later in jeans and a red sweater, her long hair down past her shoulders. Entering her sitting room, she was surprised to see Jack in the armchair by the window. “Good morning. Have you been here long?”

“I have little concept of time when I’m not with you, but since you have clocks everywhere, I know it’s been thirty minutes.” He grinned up at her and tapped his fingers silently against his denim-clad leg. “So, guess what two angels tiptoed down the stairs last night, looking for presents under the tree?”

She eyed the closed door from her suite to the kitchen. “What are you talking about?”

“Maddie and Emily, of course. Only kids we have in the house, right?”

“Right—and they are sweet.”

“It must have been around midnight—I was sitting by the fire when the girls tippy-toed down the stairs to count the presents under the Christmas tree. They’d been looking to see if any of the presents were for them.”

Cute! “Ah—were they disappointed?”

“A little, but Emily said it wasn’t Christmas yet, so Santa still had time to deliver their gifts.”

“Thanks for telling me, Jack. I’ll put presents for them on my list of things to buy today when I go shopping. I was planning to hang stockings.”

“It’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas,” Jack sang, “everywhere you go . . .”

She held up her hand to interrupt him. “You’re right—I have to go. Want the television on?”

“I can do it.” He snapped his fingers and on came Channel 7. Loud.

“Jack . . .” She cringed and gestured to the door. All she needed was her mother stepping in.

“Fine.” He turned the TV back off and disappeared.

Charlene shook her head. Jack could be a darling, but overly sensitive too. One thing for sure, he rarely allowed her to get the last word.

She left her suite, glad that she and Minnie had devised a plan for a substantial breakfast since they had more people over the holiday. The Garcia children were already downstairs, as was her father.

“Good morning,” she called. Her dad and Emily sat at the kitchen table while Minnie made breakfast. Silva batted at a toy that Emily had on a string, and Maddie colored on a piece of paper, a cup of hot chocolate cooling before her.

They greeted her with various hellos and smiles. Her dad said, “And good morning to you, Charlene. You look chipper today.”

“I feel good,” she replied. Amazing what sleep could do. She patted Maddie on the head in passing. “How about you, little munchkin? Did you sleep well?”

Maddie nodded. “Yes, I like the fluffy bed. Feels like a big pillow.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” she said. Charlene kept her knowledge of her and her sister sneaking out of bed to spy presents between her and Jack. “Are your parents up?”

“Yup.” Maddie stirred a marshmallow in her cup and attempted to chop it with her spoon. “They’re in the room, making plans for us. We might go see some witches.”

“That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” Charlene had left brochures in their room giving them information on all the tours and museums. It might be Christmas, but witches and ghosts never went out of style in Salem.

“What’s that?” Maddie pointed to a quiche that Minnie had pulled from the oven. “It looks like pie. I like pie.”

“Why, that’s a cheese and mushroom quiche, and the other has ham and tomato,” Minnie told her. “We also have a tray of blueberry muffins, or chocolate chip. Does that sound good to you?”

“Uh . . . chocolate chip?” Maddie rubbed her tummy. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You don’t have to ma’am me, I’m just Minnie. That’s good enough.”

“Minnie—like Minnie Mouse?” The little girl laughed, her brown eyes wide.

“Well, I’m too big for a mouse”—Minnie wiggled her nose—“but yes, we have the same name.”

Happy listening to the banter in her kitchen, Charlene cut up fresh fruit—juicy slices of honeydew, cantaloupe, and watermelon—to put on a large, oval tray. They always kept a basket filled with red apples, mandarin oranges, and bananas for the guests to help themselves.

Maddie peeled a mandarin orange in between sharing her thoughts with everyone. Charlene couldn’t help but be charmed by her.

“Did you do one of the tours last night?” Charlene asked.

“Nah, we just walked around down at the harbor. There were some shops there. See my bracelet? Do you like it?” Maddie put her little arm out and Charlene admired the beaded bracelet with a black cat charm.

“Very much. What did your sister get?” Emily wasn’t paying attention to them—too focused on Silva.

“She got one with a witch on a broom.” Maddie giggled and covered her mouth. “It’s spooky.”

“Are you scared of witches?” Charlene asked, washing her hands after finishing with the fruit.

“Yes!” She made a face. “They’re scary.”

“I used to think so, too, but in Salem we have people that call themselves witches who aren’t scary at all. Kass, a friend of mine, runs a tea shop. She sometimes gives visitors—like you—ghost tours.” Charlene took a sip of her hickory roast coffee.

“Does she wear a black hat and have long, crooked fingernails?”

“Hmm, I’m sure she doesn’t. Kass is very tall and slim, pretty too, and likes to wear black clothes.”

“That’s weird,” Maddie declared.

Minnie laughed. “Salem has a lot of weird. Isn’t that right, Charlene?”

“Sure does.”

Her house phone rang and she took the cordless receiver into the living room for quiet. “Charlene’s Bed and Breakfast.”

“Charlene Morris?”

“Speaking.”

“This is Officer Horitz. I was wondering if you could come to the station today. We have some questions regarding David Baldwin’s accident that Detective Holden said you might be able to help with.”

“Of course—any particular time?”

“At your convenience, but today would help.”

“I’ll be there.” She hung up, wondering what it could be about. Sam had suggested she could help? How unusual! Charlene went back to the kitchen, and her mother joined them all soon after, dressed for the day in a tunic top and leggings.

“I smell coffee.” Her mom sniffed. “Morning, everyone.” She spotted the two large quiches fresh from the oven. “Oh, we’re having quiche for breakfast? I had my heart set on a nice omelet.”

“Then you can make it, Mom.” Charlene forced a smile. “We try to keep things simple around here.”

Minnie made a clucking sound. “I’d be happy to whip you up an omelet if you like, Brenda. Michael, would you prefer that as well?”

Her dad pulled his attention from Emily and the cat. “Don’t go to any trouble for me, Minnie.” He stood and put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “I haven’t had quiche in a while.”

Her mom smoothed a strand of short white hair behind her ear with a sniff.

Minnie handed him a quiche on a trivet. “Would you be a dear and take this to the dining room for me? We’re ready to start serving as soon as Andy and Teresa appear.”

“We’re right here,” Andy called from the bottom stair.

“Help yourself to coffee,” Charlene said, “then let’s gather at the dining table.”

Teresa collected her older daughter from beneath the kitchen table. Silva was draped over her chest and shoulder, carried like a baby. “The whiskers tickle me.” Emily’s nose scrunched. “I want a cat when we get home.”