Mistletoe Murder by Leslie Meier Page A

over the phone wire.
    â€œProbably,” admitted Lucy. “But you should’ve seen the way they looked at me. I thought Stubby Phipps’s mother was going to lose her bridge. She just kept standing there with her mouth hanging open, looking at Culpepper and looking at me and trying to make one plus one equal something illicit.”
    â€œWell, I wouldn’t worry about her. If Stubby manages to graduate from high school, he’ll be the first in that family.”
    â€œBut she’s influential. People listen to what she says, and she always has a lot to say. I bet the phone wires are just buzzing, and meanwhile my reputation is going down the tubes.”
    â€œWhat if Bill finds out?”
    â€œSue! There’s nothing for Bill to find out! I’m not attracted to Barney at all.”
    â€œA lot of women are.”
    â€œI have trouble believing that.”
    â€œWhy? These things happen, you know.”
    â€œCulpepper’s belly hangs over his pants.”
    â€œJust because you don’t find him attractive doesn’t mean that other women don’t.”
    â€œWell, I do know Barney. He’s a family man, he likes kids, he’s kind of an overgrown kid himself. And even if he wasn’t devoted to Marge, where would he carry on an affair?”
    â€œThere’s lots of camps out in the woods. A roaring fire, a Hudson Bay blanket, a man with a gun . . . it could be kind of exciting.”
    â€œWhatever turns you on,” said Lucy, neatly turning the tables on her friend. “Seriously, it’s an awful feeling when you know people are talking about you. I feel so exposed. I can understand how Marcia Miller must have felt. No wonder she left.”
    â€œThat, or a guilty conscience?”
    â€œWho knows?” said Lucy, growing impatient. “Look, I’ve got to go.”
    She hung up the phone and turned to see her mother entering the kitchen. She was glad to see she was still in her robe and slippers. So far during her visit she had appeared fully dressed each morning. When Lucy went in to tidy Toby’s room she found both twin beds neatly made and her mother’s suitcase zipped shut and placed at the foot of the bed.
    â€œDid you have a good night?” asked Lucy.
    â€œI did,” answered her mother, pouring a cup of coffee. “I’ve slept better here than I have in a long time. I think it’s sleeping in the same room with Toby. I hear his breathing, and it’s so peaceful that I fall right to sleep. I haven’t done that in a long time.”
    â€œYou must miss Dad a lot.”
    â€œEspecially at night. I don’t like being alone. If I hear a little noise, I get frightened. I’m nervous all the time.”
    Lucy nodded. “I know what you mean.”
    â€œI wonder if you do. I don’t think anybody knows what it’s like until it happens to them. Losing a father isn’t like losing a husband.”
    â€œMaybe,” said Lucy, not quite willing to admit that losing her father was insignificant compared with her mother’s loss. “What would you like for breakfast?”
    â€œJust an English muffin.”
    â€œHow about an egg or two? Or some hot cereal?” asked Lucy, eyeing her mother’s flat cheeks and stick wrists.
    â€œNo, just a muffin. That’s what I always have.”
    â€œMarmalade?” Lucy asked hopefully.
    â€œThat would be nice.” The older woman took a sip of coffee. “Lucy, last night I was thinking that I really ought to send some Christmas cards. I wasn’t going to, but now I’ve changed my mind.”
    Lucy almost dropped the knife she was poking into the marmalade jar. “I think you should. I’m sure you can find some conservative ones.”
    â€œI thought I’d look in that gift shop in town and see what they have.”
    Lucy’s heart sank. She wanted to encourage her mother to keep in touch with her friends, but