As they went up the stairs, Jane raced for thephone and dialed Shelley. "Disaster," she said softly when Shelley answered. "Mel's dumped his mother on me. To stay at my house until his furnace is fixed!"
“He didn't!" Shelley exclaimed.
“I can't have her underfoot while I'm throwing this dinner together. Please come divert her for a little while."
“Give me five minutes to stuff the hams into the oven and I'll be there.”
Jane had just hung up the phone when Mel came into the kitchen. "Mom's changing her clothes. I've got to go back to my apartment and wait for the furnace people," he said. "I hope you don't mind keeping Mom overnight, Janey."
“I wouldn't have minded a private warning," Jane said frankly. "I don't really have much free time to entertain her."
“Oh, she won't need entertaining. She's really self-sufficient. And she's a great cook. Maybe she can help you with dinner."
“I don't need help, Mel. I'm a good cook, too."
“I know you are." He paused, jingling his car keys. "Janey, you're not pissed off, are you?"
“Aren't I?" Jane asked, heading for the garage to bring in the scalloped potato casseroles.
When she came back into the kitchen, he was looking contrite. "I'm sorry. I got rattled and didn't think. I should have asked you first, but I didn't know I'd need to ask at all until we got to my apartment and it was freezing cold. She really did have a bad time with the pneumonia last year and—"
“I know, Mel." She remembered when he went to visit his ailing mother. Jane had pictured Addie VanDyne as a little old lady with white hair and a frail, almost-ready-for-the-nursing-home constitution. That had obviously been a stupid assumption. Jane's own mother was older than Mel's and she was fit and sleek as a racehorse.
“Listen, Janey. I'll take her to a hotel. I'll tell her… something."
“You'd have to tell a whopping great lie that she'd know was one," Jane said, sliding the casserole into the oven — which she now realized she'd forgotten to preheat. "I'm not going to throw your mother out. It's okay. It's a done deal. And, as you say, it's just for one night."
“You really don't want her here, do you? You don't like her?”
He sounded so astonished at the very concept that Jane could think of nothing to say except, "I'm sure I'll like her a lot, Mel. We don't even know each other yet. Now, get out of my way. I have a ton of stuff to do before the party. You are coming, aren't you?"
“The minute the furnace repair person leaves," he said, looking cheerful again.
Jane heard Addie coming down the stairs a few minutes after Mel left. Jane had assumed that Addie had changed into more comfortable sitting-around-the-house clothing although it was too much to hope she'd opt for a sweatsuit.
Addie swished into the kitchen wearing a cherry red outfit that Jane could only think of as "lounging pajamas." There was a lovely self-stripe to the fabric, which draped beautifully, and Addie had added a necklace and earringsof silver and Christmas tree — green stones that Jane feared were real emeralds.
“How can I help, Jane dear?"
“You could start by loaning me your wardrobe," Jane said.
“What?"
“Just a joke," Jane said.
Eight
Shelley came to her rescue in fine form, engag ing Addie in light, impersonal conversation so that Jane could finish dinner preparations. Every now and then Shelley would toss Jane a question. An easy one, like "Do you need any help?" or "How's it going?" To which Jane could reply brightly, "Not a bit," or "It's coming right along on schedule.”
As six o'clock approached, the time the carolers were to assemble, several neighbors dropped in with contributions. Sharon Wilhite made a couple trips, bringing four very expensive-looking wine bottles and a box full of plastic wineglasses. "Hope you don't mind them being plastic," Sharon said.
“Is there anyone on earth with thirty real ones sitting around?" Jane asked. "Plastic is great."
“I hear Lance King's invited to the party," Sharon said.
“And he's been uninvited," Jane said bluntly. "Sorry, maybe you're a fan of his."
“Fan? No way. He was born obnoxious. I often wonder… oh, well, never mind.”
This was the sort of conversational gambit Jane would normally have pursued avidly, but was too busy at the moment. She'd ask Sharon about it later. If she could remember.
Julie Newton brought snack mix and, to Jane's surprise, had the native wit to bring along little matched bowls the shape of Christmas trees to set around the house on various flat surfaces. Little Pet Dwyer turned up with a pan of fudge she'd made herself. It looked like a big mud pie with green sprinkles, but the women all complimented her skills effusively.
“Are you and your dad singing with the group before you come here for dinner?" Jane asked.
“No, Daddy has to work at home tonight. But he said I could come if someone would walk me home by eight-thirty. He's putting together a web page that has a lot of graphics to load."
“I'm sure Todd will be happy to walk you home, Pet," Jane told her. "Be sure your father knows he's welcome to drop by if he gets a chance to take a break. Lots of good food here."
“Thank you, Mrs. Jeffry," Pet said in such a formal tone that it sounded like a verbal curtsy.
As soon as she'd gone, Todd came in with his friend Elliott and they had to be severely reprimanded to stay out of the fudge and to quit making fun of the way it looked. Katie brought her friend Jenny to the house as well. Jenny's mother had sent chips and dip with them which had suffered only a few depredations along the way.
Suzie Williams showed up at the same time with four bags of ice and a half-set Jell-O salad. "Sorry, it was the best I could do. Inventory week. Want me to put the ice in your basement freezer?”
Mike had spontaneously decided to make one last vacuum-cleaner run through the downstairs rooms and they were all having to shout over the noise. Jane glanced at Addie, who was looking befuddled at the Grand Central Station atmosphere.
Addie caught the look and asked, "Is it always like this around here?"
“Not always," Jane said, trying to sound very calm and competent. "Sometimes it's quiet. Sometimes it's worse. Remember slumber parties?"
“My girls never had them," Addie said. "I was gone too much of the time in the evenings when they were the slumber party age. My sister helped me take care of them. I didn't feel I could burden her with that.”
This gave Shelley another conversational gambit to pursue and she took off after it like a greyhound. Jane could tell by Shelley's too-polite tone and faintly brittle smile that she wasn't really taking to Addie VanDyne. She also knew full well that Shelley would know better than to let Addie know how she felt.
Jane set a big pasta pot full of seasoned apple cider on the stove and checked her list once more. Done. She was done! All that remained was to set everything out on the table when the gang of singers got close to her house.
Suzie emerged from the basement. "Omigawd!" Jane exclaimed. "I forgot you were down there, Suzie. You scared me to death!"
“Your son and his friend are playing a bloodand-guts game on your computer. I hung around for a while to watch. Cool stuff. Gotta go put on my thermal undies and sing my brains out." She looked at Addie, to whom she'd been introduced on her way to the basement. "You're not going out in that outfit, are you?”
Addie obviously didn't know whether to be offended or amused. "No, I'm staying inside. I can hold the fort here if you want to go along, Jane."
“I'm just going to watch from the front porch," Jane said. "I've had too long a day to wade through the snow."