Rest Ye Murdered Gentlemen by Vicki Delany Page B

Christmas brunch. My parents didn’t exchange gifts, either, although Mom and I got gifts from and sent gifts to her family. Dad might not believe in Christmas gifts between adults, but Mom made sure that she got plenty of loot the rest of the year, particularly on her birthday.
    Oh, and did I mention that Dad’s birthday is December twenty-fifth? Somehow it was okay for us to give him birthday presents. It was always a challenge in Rudolph in December to find wrapping paper that did not have a Christmas motif.
    â€œNot everyone is as hidebound as you, Dad,” I said. “If men want to buy their wives gifts I’m not going to tell them not to, now am I?”
    â€œDid I tell you to turn them away? I did not. I merely thought that a nice display in the window would remindpeople that their holiday table needs updating.” His top lip turned down and the sparkle went out of his blue eyes as he peered at me from under his big, bushy white brows.
    â€œOh, Dad,” I said. I threw a glance at Jackie. She was laughing silently.
    The bell over the door tinkled and two women came in. “I am so tired of my mother’s Spode dishes,” one of them said to the other. “Christmas dinner was never anything but an ordeal for my mother, what with
her
mother-in-law, and every time I get out those plates I’m reminded of how much she hated the holidays.” She smiled at me. “Those red and gold dishes in the window are simply divine. Do they come in sets? Good, I’ll take twelve sets, please. And the gold chargers to go with them. It’s time I gave everything that had been my mother’s to a good home.”
    I stared at my father.
    â€œCareful, Merry,” he said, “You’ll catch flies.” I snapped my mouth shut.
    I shouldn’t have been so surprised: my father was Santa Claus, after all.
    Jackie hopped off her stool. “I’ll get them.”
    â€œDo you know,” the woman’s friend said, “I’ve just remembered that at Thanksgiving Tom broke not one but two of the Riedel wineglasses, and then his fool of a brother chipped another. And now I’m expected to put on Christmas dinner as well. I’ll take twelve of those glasses in the window, please.”
    Dad reached under a table and pulled out a box of the glasses. “Anything else, madam?” he said.
    â€œMy tree could use an update, too. Do you have any tasteful tree ornaments? Glass balls are always nice.”
    â€œRight over here,” he said with a flourish, showing her the display he’d set out yesterday.
    One of the women went to get their car and she pulled up out front a few minutes later. Dad and Jackie loaded their boxes into the trunk. The car horn tooted as it drove away, while Dad stood in the street waving.
    â€œIsn’t that your car parked right in front, Merry?” he said when he came back in. “You’re blocking customer parking.”
    â€œI’ll move it later,” I said. “Right now there’s a hole in the window display. That’s my entire stock of those Christmas dishes gone. What do you suggest I put in the window next?”
    â€œJewelry might be nice,” Dad said. “Men like to give their wives and mothers jewelry for Christmas. Is Vicky okay?”
    I brought my head away from thoughts of decorating the shop window and returned to more pressing matters. “Not really,” I said. “She didn’t say in so many words, but I can’t imagine she can keep the business going if its reputation is ruined and she’s closed at the busiest time of the year.” Jackie hadn’t returned to her spot behind the cash register. She was rearranging the rack of cocktail and dinner napkins, her head noticeably tilted in the direction of my dad and me.
    â€œI have to go home and let Mattie out. Come with me, Dad. I have something I need to talk to you about.”
    Jackie might have muttered,