Hidden Riches Read Free Page B

softly.
     
    By three o’clock Dora was adding half a dozen cobalt saltcellars to the treasures in her van. The wind had kicked up, stinging color into her cheeks and sneaking down the collar of her coat.
    “Smells like snow,” Ashworth commented. He stood on the curb in front of his shop and, with his pipe clenched in his hand, sniffed the air. “Could be you’ll run into some before you get home.”
    “I hope so.” Pushing back her flying hair, she smiled at him. “What’s Christmas without it? It was great meeting you, Mr. Ashworth.” She offered her hand again. “If you get up to Philadelphia, I’ll expect you to drop by.”
    “You can count on it.” He patted his pocket where he’d slipped her business card. “You two ladies take care of yourselves. Drive safely.”
    “We will. Merry Christmas.”
    “Same to you,” Ashworth added as Dora climbed in the van.
    With a last wave she started the van and pulled away from the curb. Her eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror and she smiled as she saw Ashworth standing on the sidewalk with his pipe in his teeth and his hand lifted in a farewell salute. “What a sweetheart. I’m glad he got that figurine.”
    Lea shivered and waited impatiently for the van to heat. “I hope he didn’t overcharge you for those saltcellars.”
    “Mmm. He made a profit, I’ll make a profit and Mrs. O’Malley will add to her collection. Everybody gets what they want.”
    “I guess. I still can’t believe you bought that hideous painting. You’ll never be able to sell it.”
    “Oh, eventually.”
    “At least you only paid fifty dollars for it.”
    “Fifty-two seventy-five,” Dora corrected.
    “Right.” Twisting in her seat, Lea looked at the boxes packed into the rear of the van. “You know, of course, that you don’t have room for all this junk.”
    “I’ll make room. Don’t you think Missy would like that carousel?”
    Lea imagined the outsize mechanical toy in her daughter’s pink-and-white bedroom and shuddered. “Please, no.”
    “Okay.” Dora shrugged. Once she’d cleaned up the carousel, she might let it spin in her own living room for a while. “But I think she’d go for it. You want to call John and tell him we’re on our way back?”
    “In a little while.” With a sigh, Lea settled back. “This time tomorrow, I’ll be baking cookies and rolling out pie dough.”
    “You asked for it,” Dora reminded her. “You had to get married, have kids, buy a house. Where else is the family going to have Christmas dinner?”
    “I wouldn’t mind if Mom didn’t insist on helping me cook it. I mean, the woman never cooked a real meal in her life, right?”
    “Not that I remember.”
    “And there she is, every Christmas, underfoot in my kitchen and waving around some recipe for alfalfa and chestnut dressing.”
    “That one was bad,” Dora recalled. “But it was better than her curried potatoes and succotash casserole.”
    “Don’t remind me. And Dad’s no help, wearing his Santa hat and hitting the eggnog before noon.”
    “Maybe Will can distract her. Is he coming alone or with one of his sweeties?” Dora asked, referring to their brother’s list of glamorous dates.
    “Alone, last I heard. Dora, watch that truck, will you?”
    “I am.” In the spirit of competition, Dora gunned the engine and passed the sixteen-wheeler with inches to spare. “So when’s Will getting in?”
    “He’s taking a late train out of New York on Christmas Eve.”
    “Late enough to make a grand entrance,” Dora predicted. “Look, if he gets in your hair, I can always—oh, hell.”
    “What?” Lea’s eyes sprang open.
    “I just remembered, that new tenant Dad signed up is moving in across the hall today.”
    “So?”
    “I hope Dad remembers to be there with the keys. Hewas great about showing the apartment the last couple of weeks while I was tied up in the shop, but you know how absentminded he is when he’s in the middle of a production.”
    “I know