Have Yourself a Deadly Little Christmas by Vicki Delany EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Vicki Delany
- Language: English
- Genre: Amateur Sleuth Mysteries
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
There are two types of people in the world: those who love picnics and
those who hate them.
The picnic-loving camp can then be divided once again into two further
types: those who love winter picnics and those who do not.
I am firmly in the former camp, in both instances.
My mother, however, is not, and she reminded me of such as she pulled
her scarf tighter around her neck and shivered dramatically. “I am
absolutely freezing, Merry. I do not know why this can’t have been
arranged for a pleasant, not to mention warm, indoor space. A restaurant
preferably.”
“It’s a super nice day, Mom. Feel that sun on your face.”
“Nice is a relative term. And the sun is not doing anything to
compensate for the temperature.” She rubbed her hands together. “These
gloves are not going to be adequate. Dare I hope you have a spare pair on
hand?”
“Sorry. No. Vicky brought mulled cider. A glass of that’ll warm you
up.”
“I could use some help over here, Merry,” Vicky Casey called.
“Have a good time, Mom,” I said as I escaped for the bakery van where
my friend Vicky Casey was beginning the all-important task of unloading
the food and drink. “Sorry. Diva emergency.”
Vicky laughed. “Always takes precedence.”
“What do you want me to do?”
She indicated the folded red and green plastic tablecloths in her arms
and nodded toward two bare picnic tables close by. “Those tables have been
set aside for us. Let me lay these cloths, and then we can start arranging
everything. Looks like the party’s well underway.”
The event Victoria’s Bake Shoppe had been hired to cater was indeed
well under way in our town park. Men lifted beer bottles glistening with
moisture out of the ice-filled cooler close to the previously set-up drinks
table, and women poured themselves glasses of wine. Jugs of lemonade and
iced tea were on hand for the kids, the non-imbibers, and the designated
drivers. My mom joined my dad at the makeshift bar and slipped her arm
through his. He gave her a smile that lifted my heart, and asked if he could
get her a glass of wine. She nodded graciously.
My mom might sometimes be “difficult” and my dad “eccentric,” but
the love they have for each other forms the bedrock of their lives. Dad was
dressed in “civilian” clothes today. What passes as for normal for him,
anyway—a plain brown winter jacket above dad-jeans bagging badly in the
rear. Mom wore a knee-length camel coat with a fake fur collar and
trimmed hood, a double row of ornate gold buttons running down the front,
dark brown leather gloves, and a beige wool scarf shot with glistening
golden threads. Brown leather boots with two-inch heels were on her feet.
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