A Year on Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [120]
Then it was Christmas Eve.
A twenty-pound turkey was roasting in one oven while a ham baked in the other. Casseroles, cookies, breads, and pies that had been prepared and frozen weeks ago now thawed on every available kitchen surface. Lindsay was putting the finishing touches on the dining room table centerpiece while Cici went through the house arranging candles on holders, floating them in crystal bowls, nestling them among the greenery. A delicate snow was drifting down outside the windows and dusting the garden paths with white, while inside the entire house smelled like Christmas dinner. Lindsay had set up her stereo system in the entrance hall, and the strains of holiday CDs were coming through the speakers, which were disguised by miniature Christmas trees.
“Okay.” Lindsay read from her checklist. “The fireplaces are clean and laid with fresh logs. We’ll light the fires first thing in the morning so they’ll be nice and cozy by the time people start arriving. The buffet is set up with plates and silverware and all the glasses are washed. Punch bowls ready to be filled with eggnog. Party favors stacked on the foyer table, ready to give out when people leave.”
“Candles ready to be lit,” added Cici, reading from her own list. “Peppermint bath salts in every bathroom. Boy, am I glad we went with two water heaters. Pillows fluffed, candy bowls in every bedroom, towels rolled and decorated with sprigs of holly. We’ll bring in the fresh greenery for the tables and mantles tonight, so it won’t get too dried out before we light the candles tomorrow.”
“Presents are wrapped for the kids,” Bridget chimed in, drying her hands on her apron. “Cookie platters are ready to be set out. Ida Mae is frosting the Christmas cake now. Cheese biscuits are rising, the ham is ready to be carved, turkey is basting. All we have to do in the morning is—”
And then the phone rang.
The plan was for Kate to fly into Washington with the girls today, and drive to Virginia with Kevin in the morning. When she heard her son’s voice, Bridget inquired happily, “Did Kate get there okay?”
He said, “Mom, the Chicago airport’s been snowed in since early this morning. They’ve canceled all flights. There’s no way Kate’s getting out of there.”
“Oh, no.” Bridget sank back against the wall, and the disappointment in her voice caused Cici and Lindsay to interrupt their checklists and turn to her in concern. She put her hand over the receiver and told them, “Kate’s flight was canceled.”
To Kevin she said, “It won’t be the same without them, but at least you’ll be here for Christmas.”
“I hope so,” he replied, and it took her a moment to realize that he was serious. “If this storm keeps on the way they’re saying, the roads are going to be pretty bad. They’re already talking about closing parts of 1-95. Can you believe that? At Christmastime? What a mess.”
Bridget blinked. “What storm? What are you talking about?”
“The same storm that hit Chicago. Don’t you listen to the news?”
“But . . .” She looked out the window to make sure. “It’s barely snowing here!”
“Wait for it,” he replied grimly. “Mom, this is serious stuff. It’s like a real blizzard, and the whole East Coast is bracing for it. You have got to get a television.”
“We have televisions,” she told him, still disbelieving, “just no reception. Listen,” she told him firmly, “if the weather does turn bad, you stay off the roads. Don’t take any chances. It’s not that important.”
“I know it’s important to you,” he told her. “But don’t worry, if this thing plays out the way they say, nobody’s going to be on the roads. Katie said she’ll call you tomorrow. Merry Christmas, Mom.”
She wished him Merry Christmas and hung up, then turned to Lindsay and Cici, looking