Energized by Jake’s coffee, Lucy convinced her mother to buy each of the girls a sweat suit printed with dancing hippos. While they waited the proprietor applied rhinestones in strategic places, a detail Lucy knew would thrill Sara and Elizabeth. For Toby they found a warm sweat shirt with a surf design.

“Lucy,” complained her mother, “I didn’t really plan to spend this much.”

“The kids will love them. How much did you have in mind? I’ll make up the rest.”

“You don’t need to do that. I’ll manage.” She sighed.

“Good.”

“I’m not made of money, you know.”

“And you’re not the actress, either,” said Lucy, piloting her mother back along the boardwalk to the car. “Christmas only comes once a year. Let’s try to enjoy it, okay?”

“I’m trying,” answered the older woman.

“I know you are,” Lucy said, and as the wind whipped round them in a savage burst, she felt tears sting her eyes.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

#1009 This rugged compass is an essential survival tool that no hiker should be without. Sturdy plastic case with a leather strap. $11.

Waking up the next morning, Lucy experienced an almost paralyzing sense of dread. She knew with certainty that something awful was going to happen today but couldn’t remember what. She checked the calendar, but no dentist appointments were penciled in and she hadn’t forgotten anyone’s birthday, but she knew that there was something unpleasant in the offing. When the phone rang promptly at eight, it all came clear.

“Lucy, this is Marge Culpepper.”

“Hi, Marge.”

“Listen, Lucy. I can’t help you with the Cub Scouts this afternoon. I’ve got to take my mother to the doctor.”

“Cub Scouts?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten? You and I promised to fill in for Kathy—she’s leaving today to spend Christmas with her family in Pennsylvania.”

“I did forget. I haven’t got anything planned.”

“Well, you’ve got until two-thirty to think of something. I wish I could help you, but Mom’s feeling pretty poorly. You know, it’s a nice day and not too cold. Why not take them for a hike?”

“That’s a good idea. They can work off some of their excess energy.”

“Sure. And I’ll send my husband over with some hot cocoa. It’s the least I can do. He’ll be at Indian Rock at, say, three-fifteen. Okay?”

“Sounds great. Thanks, Marge.”

Lucy hung up the phone and started washing the breakfast dishes. At least now she knew why she was depressed. Cub Scouts always depressed her.