“I was wondering if it would be convenient for me to visit her later this afternoon. Could you check for me?”
Tamlyn hesitated. “I . . . uh . . . I can try.”
That sounded a little odd to Daisy.
About a minute later, Tamlyn was back on the line. “Mrs. Swanson, I don’t know who’s with Mrs. Vaughn but the door to her study is closed. There’s an argument going on inside. I don’t think I should disturb her right now.”
“I see. I really need to talk with her today, and I’d like to do it face-to-face.”
“All right. Let me check her calendar. She usually writes all of her social engagements on it. She still doesn’t like using a phone app for that. The calendar is in the kitchen.”
While Daisy waited, Tamlyn reached the kitchen quickly and related, “Mrs. Vaughn doesn’t have anyone listed on her schedule for right now, even though she’s in a meeting. It’s also empty for this afternoon. She usually has lunch at one. Why don’t you give me a call around two? If she’s free, I’ll let you know.”
“I’ll do that,” Daisy agreed. “Thank you, Tamlyn.” She ended the call. However, as she did, she thought about everything Vanna had told her this morning. Just who was Margaret arguing with?
Chapter Two
Daisy drove up the lane that led to a circular driveway. She knew two acres surrounded the historic house that Margaret Vaughn now lived in with her husband. Once the area had been densely wooded with Norwegian spruce trees along one side and maples and oaks on the other, continuing to the rear of the property. The front entrance had been mostly hidden by arborvitae that had grown out of control as well as mop bushes that, for the most part, kept their round shape and almost covered the porch railings.
After Rowan Vaughn had bought the place, he’d had many of the trees and their trunks uprooted and the shrubs around the house torn away. There had been plenty of space for a circular stamped drive, and he’d had one of those created. A decorative wheelbarrow sat in the center. It was filled with mums and marigolds that had seen their last glory days.
The house itself was a sturdy-looking edifice. The porch ran across the front, and set-back side wings extended about twelve feet from each side. The edifice stood two and a half stories with dormers positioned on each side of a triple window in the center of the roof point. Five windows with shutters allowed light into the second floor. The middle one sat directly above the double door entrance into the main floor. She suspected the house was about fifty-five hundred square feet, which included a bedroom on the third floor. She’d only been in the house once, when she’d originally discussed the tea with Margaret.
After Daisy parked, she climbed the steps to the main door. The doorbell sound seemed to reverberate through the house. About a minute after she pushed the button, Tamlyn opened the door. Margaret’s housekeeper was young, probably in her early twenties. She wore her long brown hair in a knot on the back of her head. Her uniform, if you could call it that, was navy slacks and a pale blue oxford shirt. Daisy knew that when Tamlyn was working in the kitchen or the butler’s pantry, she wore a white apron. The young woman’s cheeks were full, her lips wide, and her bangs practically covered her brows.
She looked a bit nervous now as she said in a small voice, “I told Mrs. Vaughn that you’d be stopping by. She’s still in a grumpy mood from her meeting. Maybe you can change that.”
As the young housekeeper guided Daisy through the foyer and living room down a hall, Daisy couldn’t help but admire the rich woodwork that trimmed the door frames and windows with wide windowsills. Speaking to its historic past, the plank flooring was a bit uneven and creaked. The newel post was fashioned of the same aged oak as the mantel above the stone fireplace.
At one of the heavy paneled doors, Tamlyn stopped. She rapped and when Margaret answered, “Come in,” Tamlyn opened the door.
Daisy entered the office as aware of the antique mahogany desk as of the woman sitting behind it. The computer on the old-fashioned credenza to the side of the desk together with the ergonomic office chair looked out of place. Margaret, on the other hand, didn’t. Although her steel-gray hair was expensively cut in a short do, her clothes reminded Daisy more of her Mennonite upbringing. She wore a midi-length gray wool skirt as well as a white silky blouse and gray wool vest. It was a severe yet stylish outfit. Her makeup was expertly applied, from a perfectly formed brow to the almost nude coloring on her lips. Her appearance almost looked like a reconciliation between the past and the present. Had her life become that too?
As Tamlyn quietly exited the room, Margaret rose and extended her hand to Daisy with a smile that seemed genuine. “I know why you’re here. You want to convince me to go ahead with the tea. I imagine your business can slow down this time of year.”
Margaret was apparently going to be blunt. In that case, Daisy could be blunt too.
As Margaret took her seat in her office chair, Daisy perched on the practical suede leather chair positioned in front of Margaret’s desk. Before she spoke, Daisy decided she could be blunt, but she also knew how to be tactful too.
Many photos were propped on Margaret’s desk—Vanna and her family including her deceased husband, one of Glenda and Margaret together, a photo of the cast, and the largest, a wedding portrait of Margaret and Rowan.
Daisy motioned to the photo of Vanna and her family. “Your sister is concerned about you. She knows how much Christmas in the North Woods means to you, and having the production go well.”
“I don’t
