Page 10 of Threads of Kindness
“I’ll come with you,” Joan said.
Maggie slid into the seat Lyla had vacated. She put her arms around Sunday’s shoulders and pulled her in for a hug.
“I’m thrilled you and Josh found each other and have decided to join your lives.”
“Thank you,” Sunday said. “It’s the miracle Lyla spoke about.” She narrowed her eyes and looked at Maggie. “Were you really surprised by our announcement? Did Josh actually keep it a secret from you?”
Maggie pursed her lips into a thin line before she spoke. “He didn’t tell me, but he’s worked as my assistant long enough that I could tell something was different about him. I knew he had visited a jeweler about a ring. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what that was about. I used all my strength to stop myself from asking him. I figured he had promised you he would keep it a secret, and I didn’t want to interfere with that. Honestly, I’mnot sure how much longer I could’ve held out before I tried to wheedle the truth out of him.”
Sunday giggled. “In your position, I’m not sure I could’ve held off either.”
“This is the best news,” Maggie said. “I’m sure Susan will be delighted to stand up for you at your wedding. John and I are dropping off food for her and Aaron on our way home. I won’t mention that you’d like her to be your matron of honor—but can I tell them about your engagement?”
“Of course,” Sunday said. “Now that we’ve announced it, it’s not a secret.”
“Who is Josh going to ask to be his best man?”
“This may seem strange because they haven’t known each other long, but he’s thinking of Frank Haynes. They get along incredibly well. Josh has only been working for him part-time for a short while, but they talk multiple times every day. Josh jokes that they finish each other’s sentences. What would you think if he asked Frank?”
Maggie swallowed a lump in her throat. “I think that would mean more to Frank than you could ever know. You don’t always need a lot of time to develop deep feelings for someone.”
“That’s what I thought,” Sunday said. “Josh was going to talk to him about it today, but he and Loretta and the kids aren’t here. Sean and the twins are passing around a cold, just like Julia.”
“That’s too bad,” Maggie said. “I wondered where they were.”
Sunday snapped her fingers. “You’ve given me an idea—Josh and I will take food to the Haynes family on our way home. If Frank can step outside for a moment, we can share our happy news and Josh can ask him.”
“Great idea,” Maggie said. “I think you’re on track to plan this wedding in record time.”
CHAPTER 5
Alistair
Maggie and John weren’t the only ones feeling down in the dumps this Christmas Day. I don’t want to overstate it, but I was drenched in melancholy.
During my many decades as Rosemont’s butler, I’d seen my share of parties. We had thrown some real doozies. When Silas Martin died and the house was boarded up, my communication with the outside world came to an abrupt end. I had been inhabiting the attic for years, and, while I sometimes relished the solitude, it was a lonely existence.
I was initially annoyed when Maggie disrupted my slumber that snowy evening years ago. But trailing behind her through the empty house, watching her wander from room to room, pulling dust sheets off the furniture and admiring the home’s treasures, warmed my heart. By the time she curled up in the big chair by the French doors in the library and fell asleep, I was smitten.
Then came the whimpering of that pathetic terrier mix, shivering in the icy wind outside the library. I knew what I had to do. I created a disturbance to wake Maggie. She rescued the little dog and took her into her heart, as I’d hoped she would.In that moment, I knew she was the perfect person to move into Rosemont and bring light and life back into the home I loved so dearly. A home I had devoted my life and afterlife to.
And I was right. Under Maggie and John’s auspices, Rosemont played gracious host to Easter brunches, carnivals, Thanksgiving celebrations, the annual Christmas potluck, weddings, and engagements. I looked forward to each of these happy incursions into our otherwise quiet lives. So, when I noticed Maggie wasn’t polishing silver trays and John wasn’t hauling extra chairs in from the garage, I began to worry. It wasn’t like Maggie to procrastinate. Something was off.
They had gotten up early, as usual, but, instead of kicking into high gear, they enjoyed a leisurely cup of coffee by the fire. After that long bath of Maggie’s and John taking off and returning, they both went out again in old clothes, only to come home in mid-afternoon to change into dressier attire. They placed a few slices of ham and turkey on platters and left again.
I spent the day floating from room to room. The cats were true to form. Blossom and Buttercup cuddled on the rug in front of the now-cold living room hearth. Bubbles pestered Roman in an attempt to start a game of chase, but Roman was wise to her antics. He curled into a tight ball on his kitchen bed, tucked his nose under his tail, and ignored her until she grew bored and wandered off to nap in a sunny patch under a window in the conservatory.
While Eve stayed at Maggie’s heels when she was home, the dog sank into the memory foam of her kitchen bed and spent the day snoozing whenever her human was away.
The afternoon sun crossed from the back of the house to the front. The leafless trees along the driveway cast long shadows. I was considering retreating to my attic and turning in early when the garage door opened.
I roused myself and floated downstairs to the kitchen. My hope was that Susan, Aaron, and little Julia would be with Maggie and John. That tiny girl gladdened my heart. I wasn’t positive, yet, but I suspected she was one of those rare humans who could sense my presence. Maggie and John entered the kitchen alone. My spirits plummeted.
John dropped his keys on the counter and pulled Maggie into his arms.
“Christmas turned out nice, didn’t it?” she said, resting her head against his chest.
“It did,” John agreed. “I think Judy and Jeff enjoyed hosting Christmas as much as we do. Everyone certainly had a great time.”
