Page 45 of The Christmas Spirits on Tradd Street
I moved back to allow her and the tree inside the vestibule. “I don’t know why you can’t get that doorbell fixed, Melanie. I’ve been ringing and ringing and freezing to death outside. Did you forget I was coming?”
“Funny—it worked for Veronica. And, yes, I did forget. Veronica and I have been busy all morning finishing up all the fireplace mantels and we just completed decorating the last tree in the dining room.”
Her pink-lipsticked mouth formed a pout. “But Sophie said I could put my tree in the dining room.”
I shook my head, pretending to think. “No, I’m pretty sure she said laundry room. Since it’s tabletop size, we all thought it would look best sitting on top of the washing machine.”
Her lips pinched together. “Marc and I are donating alotof money for this event. I would like to think that gives mesomekind of bonus.”
“Of course it does,” Veronica said gently as she took the hideous tree from Rebecca so my cousin could take off her pink faux fur coat. “That’s why we’re putting your tree in the laundry room. It will be the centerpiece since no other decorations will be in there to compete with the beauty of your creation.”
I wanted to high-five Veronica for not mentioning that the reason it would be the only Christmas-themed item in the laundry room was because the laundry room wasn’t likely to be seen by any of the guests.
“Thank you,” Rebecca said, sounding slightly mollified. Addressing Veronica, she said, “I’ve got a whole bag of ornaments in the shape of little dogs that I bedazzled in my car. If you’d like to go ahead and bring the tree to the laundry room, I’ll go get them. You can help me put them on the tree.”
“Will do,” Veronica said, as I admired her ability to keep her eyes from rolling. “Oh, and please thank your husband again for that generous donation to Ashley Hall. I’ve already spoken with the school, and since I know Melanie is crazy busy this time of year with work and her family obligations, I told them I will be happy to host the film crew at my house for my portion of the progressive dinner so they won’t have to bother Melanie. Can you please let him know?” She smiled brightly, then left, leaving Rebecca to just mutter, “Sure,” as Veronica disappeared into the back of the house.
When Veronica was out of earshot, Rebecca put her hand on my arm. “How’s Nola doing?”
I stiffened. “Physically, she’s fine. Mentally, well, she says she’s never going to drive a car again. Especially not after what that horrible Harvey Beckner said to her.”
“I know.” She leaned closer to me in a conspiratorial way. “He’s not my favorite person, either. Marc’s writing the screenplay, you know, because nobody else is really qualified to tell the story—”
“Except for Jack,” I interrupted.
“Yes, well, be that as it may, Marc’s working on the script and Harvey keeps on asking for more sex and violence and all sorts of things that weren’t a part of the original book. He wants to show a love scene between Joseph Longo and Louisa Vanderhorst.”
“What?” I said, horrified. “But she loved her husband. That never happened—never. That’s just a horrible fabrication—and skews the whole story!”
“I know, I know. Poor Marc. He’s really stuck between a rock and a hard place, isn’t he?”
“Excuse me?” I asked, sure I’d misunderstood. “Are you saying Marc is the victim here?”
Rebecca’s round blue eyes blinked slowly. “All I’m saying is that Harvey is being really unreasonable. Marc’s book is perfection as it is—otherwise it wouldn’t have hit so many bestseller lists, right? I don’t know why Harvey is requesting so many changes. But, anyway, I’ve been worried about Nola and I’m glad to hear she’s doing better.”
“At least until the film crews arrive in January to start filming the movie. I think she’s more upset about this deal than Jack and I are. She thinks it’s all her fault.”
“That’s silly. Just tell her it would have happened sooner or later. Marc always gets his way.”
“Really?” I said, crossing my arms. “Because he told me that he was going to own this house.”
“I don’t know why he wants this old, creaky house, but if he said he wants it, sooner or later he’ll get it.”
I waited a moment so she could let her own words sink in. “You do understand you’re talking about my family home, right?”
“Sure—but you never really wanted it, remember? Didn’t you use to refer to it as a goiter on your neck?”
“Yes, but that was before I married Jack, and before Nola came to live with us and the twins were born.”
Rebecca looked skeptical. “All I know is that you never wanted this house. That you’ve always hated old houses. That’s the only reason why I’m not fighting Marc on this. Because I know that it’s really what you both want.”
I was so angry that I couldn’t find any words to argue. She must have taken my silence for agreement, because she put her hand on my arm again, and said, “I had another dream.”
“About something bad happening to Jack? I’m starting to think you’re making this all up just so we won’t fight Marc anymore.”
“No. This one wasn’t about Jack.”
She was scrutinizing me so closely that I had to step back. “Was it about me?”
