The Christmas Pony Read online

“Passing through.” Mama hung Lucy’s coat on a peg by the door. “Everybody is just passing through Maple Grove.”

  “Did you get the yeast?” Grandma asked Lucy. “I’ll need it to bake bread for tomorrow. Especially if we’re having guests.”

  “It’s in there,” Lucy told her.

  “You run on upstairs and check the rooms,” Mama said to Lucy as she reached for her good apron. “Open the doors to let some heat in, and take the feather duster with you and make sure everything looks tidy and fresh. I expect they’ll want the front room since it’s bigger and the sun comes in so nice in there, but we’ll let them take their pick.”

  Lucy scurried up the stairs, opening all the bedroom doors and even checking the bathroom to make sure there were no spiders or webs in the sink or the big claw-foot bathtub. Everything seemed to be in good order, but she wished it was summer so she could gather some pretty flowers to put in a vase. She thought the movie star lady would like that.

  She stooped to straighten out the colorful braided rug that ran down the length of the hallway. She and Grandma had made that rug from long strips of old fabric last winter. Lucy did the braiding and Grandma did the sewing. It was supposed to keep the sounds of footsteps quieter up there, but Lucy thought it mostly looked pretty and festive.

  She was just coming down the stairs when she heard someone at the front door. Lucy rushed to answer it. “Hello,” she said eagerly. “I forgot to tell you, I’m Lucy.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Lucy. My name’s Veronica.” She jerked her thumb toward the man behind her. “And this is George.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Lucy.” He leaned down to shake her hand.

  Lucy was leading them into the front room just as Mama came through the dining room. She still had on her working clothes, and Lucy could tell she was uncomfortable. Probably even more so when she saw how fancy Veronica looked.

  “This is George and Veronica,” Lucy told Mama.

  “Lucy, where are your manners? You don’t call grown-ups by their first names.”

  “That’s my fault,” Veronica said. “But, really, I like to be called by my first name. It makes me feel like an old schoolmarm to be called ma’am or missus.” She elbowed George.

  “George is fine for me.” He smiled down at Lucy. “Since we’re among friends.”

  “Mama’s real name is Miriam,” Lucy told them. “Isn’t that a pretty name?”

  “It’s very nice,” George said. “Nice to meet you, Miriam.”

  “Aren’t they nice?” Lucy looked at Mama and could tell that something was bothering her. Maybe it was that this couple was nothing like their usual boarders.

  “Mr. Hempley from the garage gave us a ride here,” Veronica said. “He left my other suitcase on the porch for me.”

  “I hope we’re not imposing on you.” George removed his hat. “We met Lucy in town and she said you had rooms available.”

  “We have plenty of room.” Mama made her polite face—not exactly a smile, but not unpleasant either. “I hope you’ll make yourselves at home. Lunch will be ready in about half an hour . . . if you’d like to freshen up a bit. There’s a guestbook in the dining room for you to register in.” Now she nodded toward the stairway where Lucy was waiting. “Lucy can show you where the rooms are located, and you can take your pick.” Mama stepped back. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to help my mother prepare lunch.”

  As the man went out to fetch the other suitcases, Veronica patted Lucy on the head and smiled. “This is a nice little place you got here, doll.”

  The man returned with two more suitcases. They were tan and white and matched the smaller one that Veronica carried in one hand. Lucy wished she could see what was inside those pretty bags and wondered what Veronica might say if Lucy offered to help her unpack.

  “I hope you both enjoy your stay here.” Suddenly Lucy felt as if she were playing a part in a movie. Perhaps like Shirley Temple in The Little Colonel. “Now I will show you to your room.” Holding her head high, she led them up the stairs, taking them from room to room and explaining every single detail, including how the pipes might sometimes rattle if air got trapped inside. “You just give it a good whack like this”—she hit the exposed pipe that went to the bathtub—“and it should quiet right down for you.”

  “I’ve known plumbing like that before,” George told her.

  “We have an outhouse too,” Lucy explained. “Sometimes it comes in handy, but it can be awful cold this time of year.” She stopped by the front bedroom now. “This room is really the best one.” She proudly pointed to the large window. “Mama says it gets the best light in here.”

  “Why don’t you take this room,” George said to Veronica.

  “Thank you.” She rewarded him with a pretty smile as he set her suitcase next to the door.

  “I’ll take the one in the back,” George told Lucy. “I like the way it looks out over the apple trees.”

  Lucy tried not to show her surprise, but she hadn’t expected them to want two rooms. Most married couples shared a room together. However, she knew that Mama should be pleased by this arrangement because it meant more money, since they charged by the room as well as the meal. Lucy had imagined these people were rich. It seemed she was right. She just hoped they’d stay for a whole week or even more.

  “You make yourselves comfortable,” Lucy said, imitating Mama. She considered offering to help Veronica unpack but was afraid that might sound too nosy. “I should go down and set the table now.”

  But by the time Lucy reached the dining room, Mama was nearly finished setting the table. To Lucy’s surprise, she’d put out the good china dishes—the ones with the gold and black design around the edges. “The table looks real pretty,” Lucy told her. “George and Veronica should like it a lot.”

  “That’s all?” Mama frowned as she adjusted a teacup. “Just George and Veronica?”

  “Yes.” Lucy nodded. “George and Veronica.”

  Mama looked doubtful. “Didn’t they tell you their last name, Lucy?”

  “I guess I forgot to ask,” Lucy admitted, “but you heard them tell me to call them by their first names. Is that all right, Mama?”

  “Well, I suppose so. If that’s what they want. However, I don’t generally care for you calling adults by their first names.”

  “I know.” Lucy was about to tell Mama how George and Veronica were using two rooms upstairs, but Grandma stuck her head in the swinging door that led to the kitchen. “Miriam,” she said, “I need your help in here, please.”

  “You go wash up,” Mama told Lucy. “Then you can fill the water glasses for me.”

  Before long, the new boarders had returned downstairs and everyone was seated around the dining room table where Mama bowed her head to say grace. They made small talk about the weather and traveling as the food was passed around, but the conversation grew quiet as they ate. Lucy was seated across from George and Veronica so she had a good view of their exciting new guests. Veronica had removed her fur-trimmed coat and now wore a shiny dress that was almost the same color as purple irises in the springtime. She also had on a necklace and earrings that looked like real diamonds, but Lucy couldn’t be sure about that since she’d never seen real diamonds before. No matter, Veronica was still the most glamorous person Lucy had ever seen in real life. Lucy wished that Clara still lived down the road so she could see her too.

  Lucy glanced over to where Mama was sitting in her usual spot at the end of the table closest to the kitchen. She liked to sit there so that she could fetch things more easily. Lucy knew it was probably wrong to compare Mama to Veronica, but she just couldn’t help herself. Mama looked kind of washed out today. Sort of like when Lucy’s favorite red gingham blouse got left in the sun too long and the color got drained right out of it. Even Mama’s dress looked more faded and worn than usual. Plus Mama’s light brown hair, pulled back in its usual bun, seemed sadly drab too. Still, Mama’s eyes were pretty—and even bluer than Veronica’s—al
though Veronica’s eyelashes were much blacker, more fancy somehow. But, Lucy reminded herself, mothers weren’t supposed to look like Veronica—and Mama was simply Mama. And really, she was a lot prettier than all the other mothers in Maple Grove.

  “This is about the best chicken and dumplings I’ve ever had,” George proclaimed. “My compliments to the chef.”

  “Grandma does most of the cooking,” Lucy told him. “But Mama can cook too,” she added quickly.

  George told them about his car and how he felt like a fool to have let the radiator boil dry like he did. “My father used to warn me about that very thing. I really should’ve known better. That’s what comes of driving too many hours, but I’d really hoped to make it to Los Angeles before nightfall.”

  “What takes you to Los Angeles?” Grandma asked.

  “I hope to find work there,” he told her.

  “What sort of work?” she asked.

  “That’s a good question.” George’s mouth twisted to one side as they waited for him to answer. “You see, I’d been in college back east . . . back before Black Friday. I’d been in law school, but like a lot of other students, my family’s funds ran out before I could finish my degree. So I took a clerical job in an insurance firm and worked there for the past six years, finishing my schooling and trying to save enough to take my bar exams and get a practice started. As luck had it, the insurance company went under last spring, and I haven’t been able to find work since. I’ve heard that California has more job opportunities.”

  “Not to mention more sunshine,” Veronica added. “Did you know that California is so warm and sunny that you can actually grow orange trees right in your own backyard?” She sighed dreamily. “Imagine that.”

  “That does sound lovely,” Mama said. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy there.”

  “If I can ever get there.” George dismally shook his head. “I’m afraid my car’s engine is going to take nearly until Christmas to get fixed. And the holidays aren’t a good time to go job hunting.”

  “You can stay here for Christmas,” Lucy said suddenly. “We have plenty of room.”

  George laughed. “I appreciate the offer, little lady. I just hope I don’t have to take you up on it.”

  “I don’t want to stay here until Christmas.” Veronica made a pout toward George. “Surely it won’t take that long to fix your silly old car, will it?”

  He shrugged, but the look on his face was hard to read.

  “Well, one way or another, I plan to get myself out to California,” Veronica proclaimed. “There must be a train station nearby.”

  “Of course.” Grandma reached for the butter. “Flagstaff has a perfectly good train station.”

  “How far are we from Flagstaff?” Veronica asked.

  “It’s about twenty miles,” Mama told her.

  “Surely I could get a train to California from there.” Veronica made a long sigh. “That is, if I could get myself to Flagstaff.”

  Lucy stared at her. “You’d go to California by yourself?”

  Veronica just laughed. “Well, of course.”

  “Would you care for more chicken and dumplings?” Mama asked George in a stiff-sounding voice.

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  As Mama quietly ladled out another helping, Lucy could tell by the firm set of Mama’s mouth that she was upset about something.

  “I have to get to Hollywood,” Veronica explained, “because I plan to become a movie actress. You know, like Jean Harlow . . . Myrna Loy . . . Barbara Stanwyck.”

  “Is that so?” Grandma adjusted her glasses, peering more carefully at Veronica.

  “You’re pretty enough to be an actress,” Lucy said shyly.

  “Well, thank you very much.” Veronica rewarded her with a shining smile.

  “Do you know how to act?” Mama asked her. “I mean, have you participated in dramatic productions or theater before?”

  Veronica waved her hand. “Oh, sure. I’ve done a few things. Nothing terribly impressive. But that doesn’t matter so much in the motion picture business. Most of all the directors are looking for the right kind of face.” She turned her head to one side and tipped her chin upward. “I’ve been told I’m highly photogenic and I’d look good on the big screen.”

  Lucy nodded eagerly. “I think you’d look just fine in a movie.”

  Veronica began to talk about a motion picture she’d recently seen. “Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert were in it,” she explained with wide-eyed enthusiasm. “It was called It Happened One Night, and it was about a couple who were taking a road trip.” She giggled. “Kind of like George and me.” She went on to say how everyone got very confused, and then the woman was going to marry someone else, and Veronica chattered on and on until Lucy felt lost—happily lost. She thought she could listen to Veronica talking about movies forever.

  “Well.” Mama said this in a way that suggested she’d heard enough. “That is all very interesting, but if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to attend to now.” She scooted back her chair and stood. “Lucy, you will help your grandmother clear the table, please.” Mama left, and the meal and the interesting conversation seemed to be over too.

  “I’m plumb worn out from all the traveling I’ve been doing.” Veronica set her napkin on the table. “I do believe I’ll catch up on some beauty rest this afternoon.”

  George thanked Grandma for the delicious meal and excused himself as well. Grandma reminded them both to sign in at the registration book on the buffet table, and then she and Lucy began to clear the table and wash the dishes.

  “I ’spect your mama won’t be using the good china for the next meal,” Grandma said in a funny-sounding voice.

  “Why not?” Lucy asked.

  Grandma just chuckled.

  Lucy held up a delicate teacup and nodded. “I guess I don’t mind if she uses the everyday dishes. I don’t worry so much about breaking those.”

  “Everyday dishes are more practical.”

  “Do you think Veronica is pretty, Grandma?”

  Her brow creased. “I suppose some people might think a woman like that is pretty . . . if you like that sort of thing.”

  “I think Veronica is about the prettiest person I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Lucy confessed.

  “I don’t know as I’d go as far as all that.”

  “I think she’ll probably become a real movie star too,” Lucy continued with enthusiasm. “Can’t you just imagine seeing Veronica’s face at our movie theater in town?”

  “You know I don’t care much for motion pictures, Lucy. The truth is, I’m rather surprised that George is agreeable to that kind of nonsense for his wife. He didn’t strike me as that sort of fellow.” Grandma made a tsk-tsk sound through her teeth. “But young people nowadays . . . I ’spect times are changing.”

  After the dishes were washed and dried and put back in the china cabinet, Lucy decided to take a peek at the registration book. She was curious about where George and Veronica had come from. But to her surprise, they had written down different last names. George’s last name was listed as Prescott and Veronica’s was Grant. Not only that, but George had written that he’d come from Chicago, Illinois, and Veronica had written St. Louis, Missouri. Lucy knew enough about geography to know that those places were a ways apart.

  “Did our guests sign in?” Mama asked as she laid some freshly ironed table linens in the drawer at the bottom of the china cabinet.

  “Yes . . .” Lucy gave her a quizzical look.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Lucy shrugged, then closed the guestbook. If something was wrong, she wasn’t sure she wanted Mama to know about it. Not just yet anyway. Already Mama seemed slightly disturbed by their new guests. Lucy suspected that Mama might not be too happy about renting rooms to movie stars, or almost movie stars. But Lucy thought it was terribly exciting. It was also an answer to her prayers. Besides that, didn’t they need the money?

  Fortunately, Mama didn’t ques
tion her further. Instead she asked Lucy to bring some firewood out to the barn where she was working on laundry this afternoon. Some people might think it strange to do laundry in a barn, but their barn wasn’t used for animals anymore. The only livestock they had these days was old Beulah the milk cow, who mostly lived in a loafing shed near the barn, and the chickens. The barn had long since been cleaned and swept and was where Mama kept their wringer washer and ironing board as well as several clotheslines that were strung back and forth. During the winter, a woodstove was kept burning to warm the barn enough for the laundry to dry.

  As Lucy piled firewood into her wagon, she daydreamed about Veronica Grant starring in a motion picture playing at the Maple Grove movie theater. It would be so exciting to stand in the ticket line and tell everyone within earshot about how the famous actress had actually slept at their house.

  Lucy wished that school wasn’t already let out for Christmas vacation, because she wanted the chance to tell Helen Krausner all about it. She wouldn’t brag, exactly, since bragging wasn’t very nice. But she would happily tell Helen all about the almost movie star who was staying at their house. She would carefully describe just how beautiful and well dressed Veronica was and how she let Lucy call her by her first name and all sorts of things. Not to be mean, but just to show Helen that she wasn’t the only one with interesting things to talk about. Helen always acted like she was better than everyone else, but Lucy was certain that Helen had never had someone as glamorous as Veronica Grant stay at her house. Really, it was almost as good as having a pony!

  3

  Do you need some help with that?”

  Lucy looked up from where she was using both hands in an attempt to tug her heavily loaded wagon out of a muddy rut in the middle of the driveway. George peered down at her with a curious expression. He’d changed out of his brown suit and was now wearing gray corduroy trousers and a dark green sweater. Without waiting for her to answer, he picked up the back end of the wagon and helped her to move it past the rut.

  “Thanks.” She smiled at him.