“No. Cross my heart. My daddy did it that way, and I’ve carried on the tradition.”
“I can’t believe you did all this by yourself.”
“Tucker helped me with the lights and the topper. It’s been our tradition for years. The chief assigned him to help me when he was first a volunteer. The joke was on them, though, because Tucker and I hit it off and he’s helped me every year since.” Orene seemed quite tickled over that.
“I still don’t think you need to be on a ladder,” Sheila said.
“I come from hardy stock,” Orene insisted. “As long as you continue to do what you do, you’ll do what you do until you don’t.”
“I haven’t started decorating and my cabin isn’t even the size of this room,” said Natalie.
“Absolutely stunning.” Sheila walked closer. “Some of these ornaments look like Fabergé eggs.”
“You have a good eye.” Orene’s chin tipped with a mischievous tick.
“Really?” Sheila spun around, but Orene wasn’t joking. “You have Fabergé eggs on your tree? Do you know what they are worth?”
“Well, not worth anything if you don’t enjoy them. They were gifts to my family from someone who once stayed here in the house. Years ago. They do look pretty, don’t they?”
“Gorgeous.”
“Wait a minute,” Sheila said. “Natalie, please tell me Orene is on our team for this contest.”
Orene giggled. “Sorry, but I am not. Everyone wanted me on their team, and I’m too impartial to be a judge. We finally just had to make it a rule that I’d be on everyone and no one’s team.”
“Well, that should work in our favor,” Sheila said. “So, who all is coming tonight? It looks like you have enough food to feed the whole city of Richmond here.”
“Darn near everyone who lives in Chestnut Ridge will probably stop in even if just for a quick nibble. You’ll have to represent Richmond on your own. This Holiday Warmup is as big a tradition around here as that glittery ball drop in Times Square is to New York City. When the day comes I’m too old to pull this off you better start kissing me goodbye, but there’s no need to worry about that yet.”
Orene would be ninety next year. Sheila knew because even in the short time she’d known her, she was well aware of Orene constantly reminding everyone that she expected a big surpriseparty to celebrate her ninetieth and planned to live to see a hundred.
Sheila prayed she and Natalie would age as well as Orene did.
“Excuse me.” Sheila left Natalie and Orene talking by the Christmas tree, and walked out to her car and got the rest of her things. Balancing the large bag of Christmas gifts in one hand and suitcase in the other, she climbed the stairs to the second floor. She’d stayed here only four times since Natalie moved to Chestnut Ridge, but she felt at home here. Then she carried the carefully wrapped gifts for Orene downstairs.
Orene’s eyes lit up when she saw it. “Is that my Christmas present?”
“One of them is! Want to open it?” Sheila couldn’t wait for her to. She wondered where Orene would place the teapot in her huge collection.
“Did you hear a word I said earlier?” Orene pursed her lips.
“Fine. I’ll just shove it under your Christmas tree. But if you change your mind—”
“I won’t, but thank you, and the box is so pretty. Set it right in front of the tree. It’s as if you knew exactly how to match my decor.”
Sheila tucked the gift under the tree. Somehow all that tinsel made it look as if it could sway like a ballerina.
Silver tinsel dripped from every single tiny needle on the tree, yet somehow it didn’t look overdone. Like jewelry, blown-glass ornaments and old mercury-glass ones in vibrant gem tones accessorized it perfectly. She reached out to touch one of the Fabergé eggs. “I’ve only seen these in magazines before. This brilliant blue is eye-catching.”
“There are three eggs on the tree. That one there is the Theo. Inside there is a silver and gold Neptune, King of the Oceans. See the rubies in the seahorse eyes. It’s five of a Limited Edition of 250. That’s not my favorite one, though. Look over to the left.”
Sheila scanned the tree. “Here we are at Christmas doing an Easter egg hunt.”
“Why yes. Sort of.”
Sheila spotted the other egg, which was a rusty red that the gold had dulled to over the years.
“That’s the Springtime Lily egg. Can you find the secret?”
