“It’s true.” Scott pushed his heavy glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. “There’s not much to do during the winter except read and eat. You’d be an instant success.”
“That’s really sweet,” Willow replied, her bright smile directed solely at Francis. “And I’m going to have to move, all right, since I can hardly afford the rent on my studio apartment in Brooklyn without a job, but I may go back to Vermont.” She caressed the mountain ridge on her Shenandoah County Library cup. “Though I really love it here. It reminds me so much of home, but I bet it’s a lot warmer in Quincy’s Gap during the winter.”
As James watched Willow chat with the twins, the young woman seemed to cast off her downtrodden air. The more she talked and smiled, the more he felt that this quiet, eclipsed person could truly bloom in a town like Quincy’s Gap. She and Francis obviously felt an immediate attraction, and James wondered if there were an occupation she might be able to take up somewhere in the Shenandoah Valley. After all, most jobs throughout the region were likely to promise a kinder boss than Willow had found in Paulette Martine.
This girl’s no murderer, James thought as he listened to Willow laugh at one of Scott’s jokes. And he was suddenly struck by an idea.
“Willow? Are you planning to go home to Vermont for Christmas?”
“No.” Willow’s smile evaporated. “Paulette insisted that I stay to help her make the wedding cake and rolls for your parents’ reception, so I don’t have a flight. Even if I could get one, I get the impression that I’m supposed to stick around.”
“In that case,” James clapped his hand on her shoulder. “How would you like to spend Christmas with my family? I may have thought of the perfect job for you.”
By five thirty that afternoon, it was already dark. James hated the winter solstice. The short-lived periods of December daylight were tinged with a grayness that eventually gave way to a deep, charcoal-colored sky and the horizon felt heavy, as though it were hanging too near to the ground. Food log in hand, James walked reluctantly up the flight of stairs leading to Ruth Wilkins’s office.
If I didn’t have this appointment, he thought, smiling at the irony of the situation, I’d be sitting on the sofa in front of the fire with a book and a bag of cheese puffs on my lap .
Dr. Ruth had a scented candle burning in her office and had strung glitter-covered snowflake garlands across her window. Dozens of holiday cards were tacked onto her bulletin board and the screen saver on her computer showed a man raising up a little boy so he could place the star on top of the Christmas tree.
“That’s a nice smell.” James gestured at the candle. “Orange and cloves?”
“Very good.” Dr. Ruth swiveled the candle and read the label. “As well as sandalwood, lemon, and bergamot. It’s supposed to be a type of aromatherapy appetite suppressor. It was a gift from a client.”
“I’m already thinking about what to have for dinner, so maybe it takes awhile to work.” James handed her his food log and then sat down in the chair across from her desk. “I was doing fine until this weekend.”
“That happens a lot. There’s a routine about the workweek that makes it easier to stay on track.” She fell silent and examined his log. “You did really well for the most part. I think I could offer you some substitutions for a few of these high-calorie casseroles and I’d like you to try to limit your dessert calories to one hundred and fifty per day.”
“We’ve still got about a dozen casseroles left,” James commented.
“Except for today, I don’t see any cakes listed here.” Dr. Ruth looked at him expectantly. “What happened to your role as official cake taster?”
James stared at her. Was it possible she didn’t know about Paulette’s death? “Do you read the Star , Dr. Ruth?”
“I’m not much of a newspaper person. I read the news online each morning, but I’ve been too busy getting ready for Christmas to even play games on Pogo. That’s my guilty pleasure.” She caught the worried expression on her client’s face. “Is there something I should know?”
“Paulette Martine is dead,” James said. “It happened Friday night.”
“Oh my goodness.” Dr. Ruth folded her hands together as though in prayer and turned her face toward the window. “We must have seen her just hours before she passed.”
James hadn’t anticipated this remark. Instead of asking her for any details, he decided to remain quiet and wait to see what Dr. Ruth would tell him.
“I was really mortified over how my boys behaved at the television station. Hank, my oldest, told me that Ms. Martine taunted him once the cameras stopped rolling. Apparently she said that I might need to pick up a McDonald’s application, since my clients were sure to desert me after they heard about how I’d floundered on the show.”
“That certainly sounds like her.”
Dr. Ruth smiled wanly. “No matter what she may have said about me, my boys were raised better than that. I’m afraid being at college, playing football, and spending all their free time hanging out in a fraternity house has allowed them to forget how to control their emotions and behave like Southern gentlemen.” She pointed at the photograph of her sons. “The younger ones were given their own penance, but since Hank behaved the worst, I wanted him to apologize to Ms. Martine in person.”
“When did you go?” James asked.
“Mid-afternoon. I had a client at two, so it was some time after that.” Dr. Ruth gazed at her desk calendar. “Ms. Martine’s assistant told us that her employer was in the kitchen and couldn’t be disturbed. I went ahead and knocked, and Hank and I were allowed in.”
James tried to imagine Paulette’s irritation at being disturbed. He was confident that she didn’t receive Hank Wilkins’s apology with the grace and courtesy Dr. Ruth would have hoped for. “How’d it go?”
“She listened to Hank, but wouldn’t look at him, because she was too busy cracking eggs into a bowl. When my son finished speaking, she dismissed us. That’s really the best way to describe it. And so we left.”
“Did Willow come into the kitchen with you?”
Dr. Ruth cocked her head. “That’s an odd question, but no, she didn’t. No one was around when we left.” She handed James his food log. “You must have had a very trying few days. If you feel like you need comfort foods this week, that’s completely understandable. However, you may find that other things can relax you just as well. A long, hot bath, for example.” She placed a blank sheet of paper in front of him. “And I’ve got more homework for you. I want you to pay attention to how hungry you are when you eat.” She drew the number five in the center of the paper. “This is your number when you’re satisfied. Anything above that means that you’re full. An eight, for example, means that you’ve stuffed yourself.”
“So what does a one mean? I’m about to die of starvation?”
“Pretty much,” Dr. Ruth replied seriously. “Most of us have never experienced the intense hunger at that end of the scale. When we’re really hungry, we’re more at a three. Four is the beginnings of hunger.”
James laughed. “I think I’m at a four right now.”
Dr. Ruth checked her watch. “It’s getting to be dinner time, so that makes sense. Do your best with your food log and remember to record any exercise you’ve done as well. Those are negative calories for your chart. I’ll see you next week, after you don your tuxedo for the wed-” She cut herself off. “I’m so sorry-I’m talking about things I don’t know a thing about.”
“That’s okay,” James assured her. “The wedding’s been postponed for now. We’re having a Christmas Eve memorial for Paulette, since her family’s in town.” Seeing the sympathy in Dr. Ruth’s eyes, he longed to have her return to her more optimistic self. “On the bright side, this’ll give me more time to fit into my tuxedo.”