A Christmas Howl Read Free Page A

Peg thought, expensive.
    â€œHow do you suppose Michael continues to afford this place?” she asked curiously.
    Max just shrugged. He steered the car to a parking area near the garage. “He and Eileen have lived here forever. They bought this house before the kids were born. Maybe he was flush back then. Or maybe it’s mortgaged to the rafters. I’m certainly not going to ask.”
    Max was reaching for the door handle. He paused and sent his wife a meaningful look. “And neither are you.”
    Peg lifted a brow but didn’t reply. Instead she busied herself with gathering up the desserts. She wasn’t going to argue with Max. Not today of all days. But it was going to be an even longer afternoon than she’d envisioned if she had to spend the entire time watching what she said.
    His own arms filled with presents, Max rang the front doorbell. He and Peg waited. After a minute, he rang the bell again.
    â€œDo you suppose they’ve changed their minds about us?” Peg asked hopefully.
    â€œI doubt it.” Max freed up a hand and pushed the buzzer again.
    This time, the chimes that sounded within the house brought a response. One half of the front door swept open. A young girl dressed in blue jeans and a holiday sweater peered out at them uncertainly.
    She had to be Melanie, Peg thought with only the barest glimmer of recognition. Goodness, how many years had it been?
    Max had said the girl was in college. If so, she looked young for her age. She had a soft, unmolded quality about her, as if experience had yet to sharpen her into the adult she would someday become.
    Without thinking about it, Peg squared her shoulders; her posture was always impeccable. She couldn’t help but notice that Melanie still stood a full head shorter than she did. Surely, Peg thought, the girl wasn’t finished growing yet?
    â€œMerry Christmas!” Max greeted the girl in a booming voice. He’d obviously decided it was up to him to set the proper mood.
    â€œMerry Christmas,” she parroted back, opening the door wide.
    Max juggled the presents to one side and gathered Melanie into a hug. “I hope you were expecting us?”
    â€œYes, of course. Sorry about that! Everybody thought someone else got the door.” The burst of words came tumbling out in a rush. “Mom’s busy in the kitchen. Dad and Bob are watching football in the library. And Frank, well, you could spend all day waiting for him to do something useful. We didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Please come inside!”
    Melanie eyed the stack of incoming presents with evident surprise before remembering her manners and turning to Peg. “Aunt Peg?” The greeting came out sounding more like a question. “How lovely to see you again. Let me take your coat. Mom will be delighted to see those pies. Did you bake them yourself?”
    â€œYes, I did,” Peg lied blithely. The pies had come from St. Moritz, the best bakery in Greenwich. But if Melanie didn’t have the sense to notice the gold labels affixed to the top of the white boxes, she deserved to be misinformed.
    Peg pulled off her coat and scarf and dumped them in Melanie’s arms. Max’s outerwear followed.
    â€œPerhaps we could put these presents under the tree?” Max asked. Though they’d been invited into the house, they still seemed to be stuck standing just inside the front door.
    Peg peered across the wide hallway into an expansive living room. Her Christmas tree at home was large, but it was dwarfed by the massive Scotch Pine that was the centerpiece of Michael and Eileen’s decorations. Dozens of glass ornaments glittered in the soft light. Gold bows fluttered from nearly every branch. A fussy-looking Christmas angel graced the top of the tree. She was so high in the air that her gold halo scraped the twelve-foot coffered ceiling.
    How odd, Peg thought, that with the entire family at home, the living room with