‘So, what, we are all supposed to lie down and die now, too?’ she asked.
‘No… I’m just not sure people will be in the mood to?—’
‘Argh!’ Jeannie yelped as she touched the side of the tray. In the next moment it had crashed to the floor.
I rushed over to help her gather up the scalding and broken remnants around her feet. Jeannie’s face crumpled as she stared at the shattered gingerbread pieces scattered across the tiles. Her hands shook as she tried to pick them up, and I gently took her wrist.
‘Let me,’ I said softly. ‘You’ll burn yourself.’
She looked up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. ‘I can’t stop thinking about her,’ she whispered. ‘Every time I close my eyes, I see her face. And that awful pudding…’
I placed a hand on her arm, feeling the tremors running through her body. ‘I know. It’s terrible. It was terrible.’
‘What do you think it all means?’ she said, barely above a whisper.
I swept the broken gingerbread into a dustpan, the spicy scent rising with the heat.
Jeannie dabbed at her eyes with her apron.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, ‘Perhaps it doesn’t mean anything. It’s all just… It doesn’t make sense.’
‘No,’ she said soberly. ‘If I was religious, I would think we were being punished.’ She said it almost to herself.
‘Punished for what?’
She shook her head, not wanting to admit what she was thinking. But I wanted to say it for her.Do you think it’s karma for being such shitty people?I relished the idea of sticking the knife in while I had the chance, just me and her with no one else to hear.
‘But we have to keep going,’ Jeannie continued, ‘don’t we? That’s what we Weisses do. That’s what Toots would have wanted.’
I nodded, thinking of the old woman’s fierce determination and lack of fucks to give.
‘You’re right,’ she said, standing up. ‘Maybe the gingerbread-house competition isn’t the best idea right now. But I can’t just sit around doing nothing. I need to keep busy, or I’ll go mad thinking about…’ Her voice trailed off, and she busied herself with cleaning up the remaining crumbs. I watched her in silence, both of us lost in thought. Then she whispered, ‘Someone in this house is harming my family, Olivia, and I think I know exactly who.’ She stared at me, her blue eyes burning into my soul.
‘Who?’ I asked, not daring to look away.
She looked towards the entry way. ‘Aunt Clem.’
I looked at her, not masking my doubt well enough.
‘Do you remember the will-reading with Artie Peverill, four years ago? Do you remember what he said?’
Do I remember it? How could anyone forget?
‘Y-yes,’ I replied. ‘But what has that got to do with Clem?’
‘It has everything to do with the two of them and the way they reacted. They are the losers in this whole business, they are trying to take the money for themselves.’ She picked up an ubroken piece of gingerbread off the counter and waggled it in my face. ‘And if we don’t keep our wits about us, we’ll be next.’ Jeannie was behaving like a madwoman. ‘Let me do the gingerbread competition. Let’s see if anything seems off. I know you are perceptive, just like me. I know you like to watch people and you see things that others don’t notice.’
The glow of the ovens cast an orange light in Jeannie’s eyes. What if she had put something in the gingerbread?
‘What if…’ I ventured, ‘what if Clem did put something in the figgy pudding? What if it’s in the gingerbread, too?’
‘Nonsense! No one has been in here today except for me. And I will happily try each and every one of these trays in front of you now to prove I haven’t put anything in them.’
She was as good as her word; she did in fact start nibbling at the corners of a piece of gingerbread to demonstrate.
‘Okay…’ I agreed finally. ‘I will keep an eye out for anything… untoward.’
I left Jeannie to her frantic baking and headed back to our empty bedroom, flopping down onto the bed. My laptop lay on the bedside table with all the gravitas of a black hole.
