Vivian Dalton, apparently, didn’t share Betty’s feelings about what was or was not appropriate on the eve of Our Lord and Savior’s birth, with her face painted up like a cheap B-movie starlet’s. The moment the Daltons crossed the church threshold Betty was reminded of the telephone conversation. Her eyes widened as she watched them walk down the left side of the aisle. She could not be-lieve she had allowed herself to forget about something like that. Well, she could, what with the children’s school Christmas pageants, and the Miller Christmas pageant (it really wasn’t a pageant), and Charles’s recent promotion and bonus news, she really wasn’t surprised she had forgotten. Vivian Dalton hardly registered on her radar in the first place, although the story was shocking, and a true bit of scandal.

She watched as the Daltons took their seats in the pews, Eddie Dalton looking respectable enough in his wool Trilby and overcoat, and their daughter Charlotte, how old must Charlotte be now, high school, she knew that much, she was just a year or two older than Margie, my, she was a gangly thing, wasn’t she, absolutely no bust whatsoever, and Vivian, wearing that hat, although who would notice the hat when she was wearing all that makeup. Betty gave herself a quick pinch on the soft skin under her wrist beneath her wristwatch where she’d attached the angel charm. It had been her analyst’s idea, and was supposed to be a reminder to rein in her judgment. Remember why we are here. Vivian’s fur-collared coat was quite lovely. Probably dyed squirrel, though. It’s Christmas, Betty thought to herself, and then reflexively touched the sleeve of her mink.

She wondered if she should reconsider her original plan to disseminate the gossip she had heard. She cast a glance at the life-sized crucifix hanging on the far wall, and then lowered her eyes. She was bigger than that, really. She was a pillar of the community. It was up to people like Betty to set an example; to guide the rest of Wooster’s denizens to be the very best they could be.

Just like she did every Christmas Eve, Betty had made sure the Millers arrived at the church early enough to greet Reverend Alsop before he adjourned to his study to do his last-minute preparations for the sermon. She made sure they were early enough to give the vestibule and worship hall a final once-over, and tidy up the holiday décor. Because, although Betty chaired the Worship Committee, Harriet Barnham was the one who oversaw the decorations, and everyone knew Harriet could get sloppy. After Betty had adjusted most of the pine garlands and holly branches linked together along the tops of the pews, and ordered Harriet to place a dish under every candle so she didn’t burn the church down in a fiery inferno on Jesus’s birthday, she then lined up her four children, Margie, Duncan, Little Bitty, and Charles Junior, next to their father, so that they could greet most of the congregation as they entered the church. Betty also made sure the Millers were all tucked into their pew exactly ten minutes before the service was to begin. Punctuality showed proper respect. Early arrival ensured that necessary adjustments could be made, and reminded everyone who was really in charge.