In the Still of the Night

There aren’t flowers in the rooms.”
    She tore down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Mrs. Prinney, I forgot to get flowers.”
    Mrs. Emmaline Prinney, a large woman who obviously loved eating as much as cooking, was tasting her special secret recipe salad dressing and musing about what a mere breath of nutmeg might do for it.
    “Flowers?“ she muttered, coming out of her cooking trance. “The woods behind here are full of flowers right now. Mainly daffodils and a few tulips just coming in bloom. You might as well pick them before The Fate. The children will pick them otherwise.“
    “But what will I put them in? Do we have vases?”
    Mrs. Prinney took one more critical taste of the salad dressing, then opened the pantry door. “We do.”
    Lily saw that the entire top right-hand shelf was crammed with vases. Certainly, they hadn’t accumulated during Uncle Horatio’s tenure. His old Aunt Flora must have been the floral enthusiast.
    “Keep an eye out for ferns, too,“ Mrs. Prinney said. “A nice bit of greenery goes well with flowers.“
    “You’re ready, aren’t you,“ Lily asked.
    Mrs. Prinney looked at Lily, somewhat alarmed. “Of course I am, dear, and so are you. Don’t get yourself into such an awful tizzy.“
    “I know. I know. It’s just that it’s so important for everything to go well. Your husband will never forgive us the expense of fixing up the house if we don’t at least make a little money and get a good reputation for entertaining from this.“
    “Pooh. Elgin’s looking forward to having guests.“ This was more wishful thinking than pure truth. “Go pick your flowers, dear. And take Robert along. He’s in the library and Mimi wants to carpet sweep in there. Agatha has shed all over the rugs.”
    Robert wasn’t only in the library, he’d taken it over. He had newspapers all over the large table. “That Jack Summer is a wonder, Lily,“ he said. “The master of the noneditorial editorial. Look at this issue. See the front page article? President Hoover is still going on about how it’s up to private charities and community funds to cure the financial crisis. He claims the Red Cross should take over the burden. And just below it is a quote from the head of the Red Cross saying they don’t have the resources and the local chapters will have to deal with it themselves. No wonder this country is in a mess.“
    “Hoover actually believes the Red Cross should fund everyone in the country who’s starving?“
    “Apparently so. Now here’s another good piece. Jack’s quoting a speech President Hoover made last week to a group that had convened to formulate suggestions for ending the financial crisis in this country. Hoover said that they were too late, that the financial crisis was over and everything was rosy. People were going back to work in droves. And instead of making any comment directly, Summer snuggled an article right next to it saying that a recent governmental survey had shown that more than one out of four formerly gainfully employed people is now out of work. Brilliant placement.“
    “We aren’t two of the four at the moment,“ Lily said. “I need you to come pick flowers in the woods with me.“
    “We’re going a’Maying?“
    “We’re putting them in the guests’ rooms and the public rooms. Please pick up these newspapers. Mimi needs to carpet sweep.“
    “She does not. You could operate on somebody on this floor. You and Mimi have gone buggy on cleaning.“ Spotting a clump of fur decorating the rose-patterned rug, he yelled for Agatha, Lily’s dog, who had been in hiding under the library table during the height of the cleaning.
    “Hmm,“ Robert said and lifted some of Agatha’s fur. “If this is the start of the Spring Shed, Mimi’s got her work cut out for her. There’s an awfully lot of fuzzy stuff under Agatha’s top coat. I never noticed that before. Look at this. You can pull chunks of it loose.”
    As they headed out the kitchen door with Agatha, Mrs. Prinney handed Lily a large, flat wicker basket.
    “What’s that contraption for?“ Robert asked.
    Agatha shot out the door and gamboled around his legs. Robert plucked another clump of fuzzy fur off his trouser leg.
    Lily rolled her eyes. “It’s a trug. For putting the flowers in, Robert.”
    He shrugged. “I thought it was a clown hat.”
    “Oh, Robert,“ she said, irritated. “And Agatha, if you jump on me one more time...”
    Robert took Lily’s arm and stopped her