The Elders
"Didn't I tell you it was beautiful?" Rodney Gerrit asked when he stopped the car in front of the three-hundred-year-old house that he had purchased while visiting an old college friend in New England. "Wait until you see the inside."
Lauren had to admit the home was impressive.
"Hardwood floors, wainscotting, crown molding, two fireplaces—all original to the house and in excellent condition," her husband announced, as though he were a real estate agent eager to earn a sizable commission. "But don't worry. There are also plenty of modern conveniences: central heating and air conditioning as well as new plumbing and electric lines throughout. And the kitchen! You've got to see it to believe it."
"I didn't see it, though, did I?" she reminded him. "You bought this place without consulting me. Remember?"
"We've been through that already. It was a steal! I just couldn't pass it up."
She did not want to start arguing again. The couple had a major row when Rodney informed her that not only was he leaving his job with an old and respected Washington, D.C., law firm but that he had also purchased a house and planned on relocating the family from Virginia to New England. Even after more than three months, it was still a sore subject for Lauren.
"And what do you think of our new home?" Rodney asked his son.
"I like it," four-year-old Cory replied.
The moving van arrived shortly after the homeowners did. As Lauren directed the men where to put the furniture, her husband took their son out to the backyard.
"We can put a swing set in the corner of the property and a picnic table under the trees," he declared. "Maybe in the summer, we'll buy you a small swimming pool."
"It's good to see you setting down roots already."
Rodney turned at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. An old woman, somewhere in her eighties or early nineties, stood on the patio, holding a plate of cupcakes. Her white hair was pulled back in a bun, and her face was devoid of cosmetics. She wore a simple, unembellished, black cotton dress with a hem that was nearer her ankles than her knees. All she needed was a bonnet and an apron to look like a card-carrying member of the misnamed Pennsylvania Dutch community.
"I just baked these and thought I'd bring them over to welcome you to the village," she said.
Without asking his father, Cory ran forward and grabbed a chocolate-frosted treat.
"What about you?" the old woman asked, holding the plate toward Rodney.
"Thank you," he replied and reached for a cupcake.
As he removed the paper wrapper, he introduced himself and his son.
"Nice to meet you both. My name is Hester Widcombe, but most people in the village call me the widow."
"Nice to meet you," the boy said. "Can I have another cupcake?"
"Now, Cory," his father chided. "Where are your manners?"
"Can I have another cupcake, please?"
Smiling, Rodney shook his head. He thought his son knew better than to ask for seconds.
"Have you lived in Shady Oak long?" he asked the old woman.
"All my life. I was born and raised here. I live in the house next to the church. Practically all the people who live in the village are natives. We rarely get newcomers. It's a pity how people don't seem to stay in one place these days. I suppose that's because they have to go where the jobs are. There aren't too many opportunities for the young in Shady Oak. What brings you and your family here?"
"I want to slow down. My job took up too much of my time. I don't want to miss out on my son's childhood."
"And your wife? Does she long for the simple life, too?"
"Not yet, I'm afraid. She wasn't too happy about leaving Alexandria, but I'm sure she'll come around eventually."
"We elders will do our best to make her feel at home."
"Elders?"
"Of the church. There's me and eleven others. You'll meet all of them soon enough."
After giving Cory one last cupcake, the widow took her leave.
"She was a nice old lady. Wasn't she, Daddy?" the child said, licking the chocolate icing off his fingers.
"Yes, but you mustn't tell your mother you had three cupcakes. It'll be our secret. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Now, let's go inside and help Mommy unpack."
* * *
Since his office was only a mile and a half from his house, Rodney decided to walk there and leave the car at home in case his wife should need it.
Maybe we won't need to buy a second vehicle, after all, he thought. I might purchase a bicycle instead. It would be a lot cheaper than driving. And it's better not only for the environment but also for me. I don't imagine they have a gym in Shady Oak.
In the absence of any preschool programs in the small New England village, Lauren had to postpone going back to work for at least another year or two. Her son would not start kindergarten until he was five years old, and even then, he would only attend school half a day.
"Given the lack of jobs in the area, I'll no doubt have to commute," she told her husband. "That means I won't be able to return to the workforce until Cory enters the first grade."
The Gerrits had been living in their new home for nearly a month when the widow stopped by the house with a batch of freshly baked snickerdoodles. Over a cup of tea, she brought up the subject of their absence from church.
"I assume you're all settled in now," she said. "But I haven't seen you at Sunday services yet."
"I'm afraid my husband and I aren't religious. We weren't married in a church, and our son was never baptized."
The widow appeared to be shocked by the admission, yet Lauren suspected her reaction was faked.
"I do hope your lack of religious belief won't prevent you from attending the church's Harvest Fair. I'm sure your son would enjoy it."
"On the contrary, we're looking forward to going. I'm even thinking of entering my sweet potato pie in the baking competition."
"That's the spirit!" the widow exclaimed. "We'll make a Yankee out of you yet."
A week after the annual fair was held, another young couple—one who had a daughter Cory's age—moved to Shady Oak. The Gerrits were delighted at the news since there were only four other couples under the age of sixty living in the village, and none of them had young children. No sooner did the moving vans pull away from the house than Lauren showed up on the family's doorstep with a casserole.
"I know you'll be too busy to cook," she said after introducing herself.
Although Daniella Congreve politely invited her new neighbor inside for coffee, she declined.
"Once you're moved in, they'll be plenty of time for us to get to know one another. In the meantime, if you need anything, here's my number."
It was the start of what was to become a close friendship between two women ripped from their natural habitats and thrust into an unfamiliar environment.
* * *
Lauren and Cory were walking down the country lane when they encountered Daniella and her daughter. The Congreves accompanied the Gerrits back to their house where the two children played in the backyard while their mothers talked in the kitchen.
"So, you're a stay-at-home mom, too?" Lauren asked.
"I am now. I used to have a nanny for Mattie, but now that Cooper gave up his corporate job to follow his dream of starting his own winery, we can't afford one. What about you?"
"I quit work when Cory was born, but I fully intend to go back once he's in school all day."
"What did you do?"
"I was an editor. What about you?"
"I was an ad exec for a Madison Avenue advertising firm."
"You're a New Yorker? You don't have much of an accent."
"That's because I was born and raised across the Hudson in New Jersey. My hometown wasn't exactly a city, but it was a far cry from this bucolic purgatory!" Daniella joked.
"I take it you don't like it here."
"It's only the third week of October, and I already suffer from cabin fever. By January, I'll be certifiably insane!"
"I don't even want to think about the winter," Lauren said, commiserating with her new friend. "This is New England; there's bound to be plenty of snow to shovel."
"I'm sure our kids are looking forward to it. They can go sleigh-riding, build snowmen and have snowball fights."
"And we get to wipe up the wet floors and dry all those heavy clothes afterward," Lauren groaned.
"They say misery loves company. It's a good thing we found each other. If not for you, I might be forced to take the widow up on her offer to join the church just so I'd have someone to talk to other than my four-year-old."
For more than three hours, the two women talked about motherhood, their previous jobs and their husbands.
"I suppose I ought to get home," Daniella finally announced. "Cooper will be wondering where I am."
"We'll have to get together for dinner sometime," Lauren suggested.
"Your husband is a lawyer, right? Cooper is looking to hire someone to give him legal advice on starting his business."
"Perfect because Rodney is currently looking for clients!"
"Great. We'll introduce the two of them as soon as possible."
"Is tomorrow night too soon?" Lauren asked. "I can make a pan of lasagna."
"I'll bring the wine."
* * *
The following September, all four parents were gathered at the bus stop to send Cory and Mattie off to school on their first day of kindergarten. The mothers had tears in their eyes as they watched the bus drive away, carrying its precious cargo two towns away to the regional school district's elementary center.
"A thirty-minute drive to school seems a bit much to me," Daniella opined when the two women later enjoyed a cup of coffee at the Gerrits' house. "I don't think my husband gave much thought to what schools were available when he bought our house."
"Are you saying Cooper bought a home without your seeing it first?"
"Yes. Can you imagine? I had no idea what he was up to! One day he just came home and announced that we were all moving to New England. At first, I blew my stack, but he managed to convince me that it would be best for Mattie."
"This is weird!" Lauren exclaimed. "The same thing happened to me. Rodney bought this place without my knowledge."
"It's odd, especially in today's world where the man is not necessarily the all-powerful head of the household."
"Be honest with me," Lauren said. "Don't you find Shady Oak a little ... creepy?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Daniella replied facetiously. "This is a picture postcard New England village. Are you suggesting there's something evil lurking beneath all that old-fashioned charm?"
"Have you ever read Thomas Tryon's Harvest Home or seen the television adaptation starring Bette Davis?"
"Sorry, I know books are your thing, but I never have the time to read."
"Well, it's about a couple who move from New York City to Cornwall Coombe, an old-fashioned Connecticut village, with their daughter—sound familiar?"
"Maybe I ought to read it," Daniella said, making a mental note to order the novel from Amazon.
"I suggest you do. There's even an old lady in it who is referred to as the widow."
"No! You're putting me on, right?"
"I kid you not," Lauren replied. "That's who Mrs. Widcombe reminds me of."
"Don't get me started on her!"
"Why? Has she been bugging you about joining the church?"
"No. But she's always giving Mattie homemade cookies or other sweets that I don't want her to have. Last week, she showed up on my doorstep with homemade fudge. I had a weight problem when I was a kid. My classmates used to make fun of me for it. I don't want the same thing to happen to my daughter."
"Rodney thinks she's a harmless old woman who dotes on children because she never had any of her own, but I can't help thinking there's something sinister about her."
"Come on," Daniella said. "This isn't a horror story. It's real life. There are lots of lonely old ladies in the world who like to give sweets to children. My own grandmother was one of them. Why do you think I had a weight problem?"
Maybe I'm just being paranoid, Lauren mused. Rodney and Cory love it here in Shady Oak. Apparently, so do Cooper and Mattie.
Now that their children were in school for half a day, the two mothers had some free time on their hands. Daniella put the idle hours to good use by helping her husband promote his wine. Lauren hoped to find a part-time editing job that she could do from home, but no publisher was currently hiring.
"You can always come work for me," Rodney suggested one night at dinner.
"Doing what? Proofreading wills?"
"No. General office work."
"I'll see," she replied with little interest.
By the end of the month, she was so bored, she accepted his offer.
"How's the job going?" Daniella asked when the two women were waiting for the school bus to bring their children home one chilly October day.
"Ugh! I hate it!" Lauren answered. "Type this, file that, call so-and-so, get me a cup of coffee, run to the post office! No doubt much of my aversion to the job stems from the fact that part of me hoped Rodney's practice would fail and that he'd decide to go back to work in D.C. But surprisingly, he's doing well. He's got plenty of clients from all over the county. Oh, well! It'll only be for another year. I can survive that long—I hope!"
"You're still planning on going back to work when our kids enter the first grade?"
"Sure. Aren't you?"
"I don't know. I kind of like working at the winery. I feel that Cooper and I are building something."
Lauren wondered what had happened to the witty, sometimes sarcastic, New Yorker she had grown so fond of. Maybe this was a Stepford Wives situation, and Daniella had been replaced by a domesticated clone.
Despite her antipathy toward the menial tasks she had to perform, the former editor persevered. Even a boring job was better than sitting home every morning with nothing to do but housework.
* * *
October, Lauren's favorite month of the year, passed quickly. Before she knew it, she was seated at the Congreves' dining room table eating turkey on Thanksgiving Day. No sooner did everyone finish their pumpkin pie than the children went upstairs to play in Mattie's bedroom and the husbands headed to Cooper's so-called "man cave" in the basement to watch football. Lauren helped Daniella clear away the leftover food and load the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.
"Did you watch the parade this morning?" she asked as she put the candied yams in a Tupperware container.
"Yes," the New Yorker replied. "I never miss it. Ever since I was a girl in New Jersey, Macy's parade was an integral part of our holiday celebration—that and the tree-lighting ceremony in Rockefeller Center."
"For me, it was the lighting of the national tree at the White House. It's funny, but even though the church elders are always scheduling events to bring the villagers together, they don't have much to offer at Christmastime."
"I suppose they're against the commercialism of the holiday," Daniella, a confirmed atheist, suggested. "I wouldn't be surprised to see a sign on the church lawn proclaiming 'Jesus is the reason for the season' or 'put Christ back in Christmas.'"
With their work in the kitchen done, the two women took mugs of eggnog into the family room to watch TV in front of the fireplace.
"Which would you prefer A Christmas Story or It's a Wonderful Life?" Daniella asked.
"Definitely the Jimmy Stewart movie. It's one of my favorites."
At the point in the film where Clarence reveals to George Bailey that he is an angel, Lauren turned to her friend and said, "It's awfully quiet. I'm going to go check on the kids."
"They probably fell asleep. Blame in on the tryptophan in the turkey."
"I'll check on them anyway."
Daniella hit the pause button on the remote and waited for her friend to return. Moments later, Lauren came down the stairs.
"They're not there!" she cried.
"Maybe they're in the backyard."
"No. I already looked out the window. There's no one out there."
"Do you think they could have gone to your house?"
"I'll go look," Lauren answered, already reaching for her coat in the hall closet.
On the way to her home, the worried mother passed by the church. The lights were on, and she heard singing coming from inside. She recognized one of the voices; it belonged to her five-year-old son. She ran up the walkway and through the double doors. Relief at knowing Cory and Mattie were safe was soon overshadowed by surprise at seeing the inside of the church. It was like no house of worship she had ever seen before. There were no pews, altar or lectern. Long wooden benches were placed around the perimeter of the room, leaving the center space open. It reminded Lauren of a theater in the round.
The widow and the other eleven elders, all prominent men and women in the village, were seated on the benches, and the children were standing in the middle of the room.
"What are you two doing here?" the curious mother asked. "You were supposed to be in Mattie's room, playing."
"The widow is teaching us a song," Cory replied.
"You know you're not allowed to leave the house without telling anyone. You scared Daniella and me half to death!"
"I'm sorry, Mommy."
"You mustn't be angry at the children," the widow said. "It's Thanksgiving. They wanted to join in our celebration."
It did not look like much of a celebration with only twelve old people and two young children in attendance. But Lauren assumed most of the church's congregation was at home eating dinner, watching football or enjoying holiday movies.
"Let's go," she announced sternly.
Cory knew better than to argue with his mother. With a sad smile for the widow, he took Mattie's hand in his, walked down the aisle and exited the church.
* * *
"Better leave your coat on," Rodney said when his wife came to work after seeing their son off on the school bus one December morning. "I need you to go over to the town hall and do some research for me in the public records."
"Can't your secretary do that?" she asked.
"No. I've got to appear in court today for a divorce proceeding in Maplewood, and she's getting everything together for me."
Lauren was not eager to go anywhere on the cold, blustery day, but at the law office, Rodney was not her husband; he was her boss.
"All right. What do I have to look up?"
"I want you to see if there are any vital records filed for a Mrs. Myrna Prismire. She passed away without a will, and in order to settle her estate, I'll need to know if she had any living relatives."
"I don't imagine the vital records are computerized?"
"This is Shady Oak, not Alexandria."
Lilia Roebuck, the town clerk, was a church elder, as were the mayor, the woman who owned the antique store, the mortician, the postmaster and several other prominent people in the village. Thankfully, the clerk was not in the building that day, and Lauren was able to speak to her assistant instead. The young woman led her to a room with a large table, surrounded by filing cabinets.
"You've got birth certificates in here," the assistant explained, pointing to a four-drawer cabinet to the right of the door. "Death certificates are there. Next to them are deeds. Then come the marriage licenses. Everything is arranged in chronological order, and there's an alphabetized index for each year. If you need anything or have any questions, I'll be at my desk."
Despite the lack of modern technology, Lauren was soon able to find a marriage license for Myrna Prismire, dating back to 1954. She then checked birth certificates but could find no record of any children born to the couple. Knowing Rodney would want to know if Israel Prismire predeceased his wife, she then began searching the death certificates, beginning with the most recent files. She went back four years and found nothing.
This could take a while, she thought and kicked her shoes off beneath the table.
When she opened the next file folder and scanned the index, her eyes were drawn to a familiar name: Widcombe.
Could that be the widow's husband?
She thumbed through the death certificates until she found one for Constantine Widcombe. Her eyes then searched the certificate for the date of birth.
This man was born in 1974. That would make him too young to be her husband.
Her curiosity piqued, she dove further into the files of birth certificates and those that contained marriage licenses. She was still searching records when she glanced at her watch and realized it was almost time to pick up her son at the bus stop.
* * *
"What happened to you today?" Rodney asked when he walked into the house later that evening. "You never came back from the town hall."
"I'm afraid my search took longer than anticipated."
"Well, did Mrs. Prismire have any family?"
"A husband named Israel but no kids. And he died back in 1984."
"No will, no family. It's up to the state to decide who gets her property and whatever money she had in the bank."
“While I was searching the records, I came across a marriage license for Hester Dinsdale and Uriah Widcombe, which must be the widow and her late husband. Yet there were no birth certificates for either of them. I looked all the way back to the year 1900 and found nothing.”
"So? Maybe they weren't born here."
"Perhaps Uriah wasn't, but Hester was. She told me so. Why isn't there a record of her birth?"
"I don't know. She's an old woman, probably born back during the thirties or forties. Sometimes those old records get lost or misplaced."
Rodney could try to explain away the lack of proper documentation, but Lauren was having none of it. Something was amiss. She was certain both the Widcombes were born in the village and that they had married here in its church. Why, then, were there no official records?
It soon became apparent that the answers to her questions were not to be found in Shady Oak, a town that did not even have its own newspaper. Taking the day off from work and arranging for Daniella to watch Cory after school, Lauren drove to Maplewood, a town thirty miles to the east. Upon entering the office of the Maplewood Courier, she told the receptionist that she was doing research for a lawyer in Shady Oak—a little white lie, but what the hell? She was shown to a room that contained three computer terminals and a printer.
Thank goodness the archives are part of the twenty-first century!
Once the receptionist left the room, Lauren typed in the name Widcombe. Only one item was on file. She clicked it and read the headline: SHADY OAK MOURNS PASSING OF BELOVED PASTOR. Reading the body of the article, she learned that the widow's husband had been the minister of the church and that he had died peacefully at home in his sleep.
No cause of death was given, nor was there any information about funeral services provided. Surprisingly few facts were listed, but one caught Lauren's attention: Uriah's date of death. The widow's husband died on the same day Cory was born!
* * *
The first snow of the season fell on December 2, leaving an accumulation of eight inches on Shady Oak. Although Rodney drove to his office after clearing the driveway, Lauren remained at home with their son. Daniella showed up on her doorstep shortly after nine o'clock.
"What are you doing out on a day like this?" Lauren asked.
"I'm taking Mattie sleigh riding over at Hampton Hill. I thought the two of you would like to come along."
Cory was eager to go, but his mother was not.
"I'm a southern gal," she explained. "I hate the cold. I think I'll stay here and read by the fire."
She quickly straightened the house and returned to the living room. The kindling had produced a flame, and the fire was roaring by the time she sat in her wing chair with her novel. She was three-fourths of the way through the book when she noticed the time on the mantel clock.
It's nearly two. Daniella must have taken Cory to her house for lunch. I think I'll join them.
Despite her dislike of the cold, she put her book aside, put on her coat, hat, mittens, and boots and went outside. Walking toward Hampton Hill, she passed the church. Two children's sleds were leaning against the wall.
What on earth are the kids doing in the church?
Lauren barged through the door and stomped down the aisle. Curiosity mingled with her anger when she saw Cory and Mattie sitting cross-legged on the floor in the center of the room. On the benches surrounding them were the widow, her ten fellow elders (they were down one with the death of Myrna Prismire) and Daniella Congreve.
"What's going on here?" Lauren demanded to know.
"I was just telling the children a story," the widow answered.
"It was cold, and the widow invited us inside for some hot chocolate," her son explained.
"And peanut butter cookies," Mattie added.
"You know your mother doesn't want you to eat sweets."
"She doesn't care—not anymore," the little girl said.
Lauren's eyes went to Daniella who was staring at a knot in the wood floor.
What's wrong with her? Has she been drugged?
"Daniella? Is it true? Don't you care anymore if Mattie gains weight?"
"She'll be fine," the widow answered as the girl's mother remained silent. "You mustn't worry so much about the children. No harm will come to them in Shady Oak."
"But ...."
"Why don't you go back to your house? One of the elders will bring Cory home before dinner."
It was clear to Lauren that she was being dismissed, sent away like an unwelcome gatecrasher. She was about to insist her son leave the church and never return when the widow suddenly grabbed her chest and fell to the floor.
"I'll call 911 for an ambulance," she offered.
"No," Elder Lilia, the town clerk, said. "It'll take too long for an ambulance to get here."
"The widow has a bad heart," Elder Obadiah explained.
"Check her pockets for her pills," Elder Dorcas instructed. "She always carries them with her."
Lauren knelt beside the fallen woman, reached into the pocket of her black skirt and announced, "Here they are."
She opened the container, forced a capsule into the old woman's mouth and then held a half-empty cup of lukewarm cocoa to her lips. Whatever medication Hester was taking apparently worked, for within minutes of her swallowing the yellow and white capsule, her eyes fluttered open.
"We need ... to prepare for ... the ceremony. We don't ... have much ... time left."
"Never mind about that now," Elder Durward insisted. "You need to get some rest. Lilia and I will take you home and put you to bed."
"But ... it's almost ... the twenty-fifth."
"It's still three weeks away," Elder Anna Mae said. "Don't worry. We'll have everything ready by then."
Once the widow was ushered out of the church by a group of elders, there was no reason for anyone else to remain.
"I can't believe you brought the kids here," Lauren told Daniella as they collected the children's sleds.
"They wanted hot chocolate and cookies. I don't see what the big deal is."
"You know how I feel about the widow and her church. They both give me the creeps!"
"That's ridiculous! The widow is a kind old woman who has gone out of her way to be nice to us."
"If you feel that way, why don't you join her church?" Lauren asked sarcastically.
"I did. I've taken Elder Myrna's position."
"But you're an atheist!"
"A woman can change her mind, can't she?"
* * *
When Rodney handed Lauren the mail, she opened up a red envelope, assuming it was a Christmas card. Instead, it was an invitation.
"We are cordially invited to the Congreves' holiday party," she announced.
"When is it?"
"On Christmas Eve—not that we're going."
"Why not? Don't tell me you two women had an argument."
"Not exactly, but Daniella has gone over to the dark side."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"She's become an elder in the church."
"So what? I've been thinking of joining myself."
"You can't be serious!" Lauren cried. "There's something strange about that place. There's not even an altar there."
"That's because it was originally an old meetinghouse. The founders of Shady Oak didn't believe in all the elaborate trappings of other churches. The current villagers still don't. They're simple people with simple beliefs."
"How do you know so much about them?"
"The elders are all clients of mine. In fact, I just drew up the widow's will. Normally, I consider it unethical to discuss the details of legal documents, but in this case ...."
"In this case what?" Lauren prompted.
"As you know, the widow has no living relatives, so she's decided to leave her entire estate to Cory and Mattie."
Rodney had rarely seen his wife at a loss for words, but this was one such occasion.
"When she dies. which I understand will be soon," he continued, "our son will become very wealthy. The widow owns more than half the land in Shady Oak."
"I don't get it. Even if she doesn't have any family, why not leave everything to the church?"
"Because she believes in that old adage that children are our future."
"I suppose I ought to be grateful to the widow," Lauren said grudgingly.
"Yes, you should. And you ought to try to mend fences with Daniella. You can start by agreeing to attend her party."
"I don't know ...."
"Cory and I will go even if you don't."
The following Sunday, Lauren woke to find her husband and son downstairs in the kitchen, eating breakfast.
"What are you two doing up so early?"
"We're going to church," Cory happily announced as though he and his father were about to undertake a fun-filled adventure.
"You are?" she asked, looking not at her son but at her husband.
"I've made my decision," Rodney declared, stone-faced. "Cory and I are going to become members of the congregation. It's for the best."
"And I don't get a say in the matter?"
"I'm afraid not."
For the first time in her life, Lauren felt truly alone.
* * *
Although attired in a glittering red dress, Lauren was far from in a festive mood as she waited on the Congreves' doorstep for someone to answer the bell. Rodney was about to ring it a second time when Cooper opened the door.
"Happy holidays!" the host cried. "Come on in and have a glass of wine."
"One of yours?" Rodney asked.
"Of course."
The two men were still good friends despite the falling out between their wives.
"Where's Mattie?" Cory asked.
"In the family room watching television. She thinks adult parties are boring."
With her husband hobnobbing with Cooper and the male elders, and her son off to join his young friend, Lauren had little choice but to venture into the kitchen where the women were gathered.
"Hi, there," Daniella called. "I'm glad you decided to come tonight."
"It was nice of you to invite me."
"Why shouldn't I? I still consider you my friend."
"Where's the widow?" Lauren asked, noticing the old woman was not in the room.
"I'm afraid she's not been well. She's been confined to her bed for the last two days. Elder Lilia is taking care of her."
"I'm sorry to hear that. So, tell me. What's this ceremony that's supposed to take place tomorrow?"
All eyes turned in Lauren's direction as every woman in the room suddenly stopped speaking. A wineglass slipped from Elder Eartha's hand, and the sound of it shattering on the floor broke the silence.
"It's just a yuletide play. Nothing you'd be interested in," Elder Rosetta said, clearly unwilling to discuss the subject.
"Are the children involved? Is that what they were doing in the church the day it snowed? Were they practicing their parts?"
"Don't let that imagination of yours run amok," Daniella said, her voice taking on the tone of a warning. "It's nothing for you to worry about. No one in the church wants to harm the children."
"So, they are involved!"
"Yes."
"And no one thought to ask me if it was okay?"
"Rodney has already given his permission."
Lauren was furious, not only at the elders of the church but also at her husband.
"Why don't you have a drink?" Elder Dorcas suggested.
"Sure, why not? I could use one about now."
"It's Cooper's holiday wine," Daniella told her.
Lauren downed the entire glass at once and reached for another. If her husband had been there, he would have cautioned her to go easy, but he was with the men. When she finished her second glass, she took a third. By the time dinner was served at nine, she had consumed six glasses of wine.
A selection of hot foods was laid out on the kitchen island and table. The adults took their overflowing plates to the dining room where chairs were arranged around the extended table to seat Daniella, nine fellow elders, Cooper and the Gerrits. The two children were seated at a card table nearby. The holiday feast continued for nearly two hours, with many guests going back for second and third helpings. Lauren, however, ate sparingly. The meal finally ended with desserts and coffee.
"Aren't you having any carrot cake?" Rodney asked his wife. "It's your favorite."
"I'm not hungry," she replied coolly.
"This cream cheese frosting is delicious!"
I hope you choke on it! she thought, furious at him for giving his permission for Cory to appear in the play.
It was half past ten when Daniella put another glass of wine in Lauren's hand.
"One for the road?" she asked.
"Don't mind if I do," her former friend said, slurring her words.
Cooper handed her and Rodney their coats.
"Have a good holiday," their host said and then addressed his lawyer. "I'll see you in your office Monday morning."
With her husband's help, Lauren made it down the driveway and into the car. Cory, still wide awake despite the lateness of the hour, scrambled into the back seat.
"It's almost midnight!" he cried excitedly.
"I shouldn't have drunk so much," his mother said, closing her eyes and resting her head on the back of the seat.
Since the Gerrits lived less than a mile from the Congreves, there should have been little danger of her falling asleep, but the wine suddenly hit her and she dozed off. When the car stopped, she assumed they were in their driveway; but when she opened her eyes, she realized Rodney had pulled into the church parking lot. Theirs was not the only car. The elders' vehicles were also there.
"What ...?"
The inebriated woman, barely able to talk much less walk, was helped from the vehicle by three of the elders. Daniella took the two children by the hand and led them into the building. Meanwhile, Lauren saw her husband drive away, leaving his wife and son behind.
"Where ... is he ... going?" she managed to ask.
"Home, I imagine," Elder Dorcas answered.
"He can't stay for the ceremony," Elder Eartha explained. "He's not one of us—not yet anyway."
Against her will, Lauren was led inside the church.
"No," she protested.
"Surely you don't want to miss your son's ascension," Elder Durward laughed.
The unwilling woman was forced to sit on a bench between two male elders. She tried to stand, but they forced her down again. It was obvious she would not be allowed to leave.
"It's nearly time," Elder Meriwether announced, looking at his watch.
The vestry door opened, and into the center of the room walked Elder Daniella with the two children trailing behind her. Mattie was wearing a black dress, similar to one the widow always wore only smaller in size. Cory was also wearing black.
Where did he get that outfit? his mother wondered. I certainly never bought it for him!
The clock above the town hall, which was located across the street from the church, began to chime.
"It's midnight," several of the elders announced in unison.
Daniella took a seat, leaving the two children standing alone in the center of the room.
The clock continued to chime. Just before the eleventh bell, Elder Lilia entered the church and announced, "The widow is gone."
At the final stroke of midnight, the elders fell to their knees and bowed to the children.
"Long live our father and mother," they cried as the souls of Uriah Widcombe and his wife took possession of the youngsters' bodies.
"Hester and I have returned," Uriah said, speaking in Cory's voice. "Just as the master promised."
"Now we must honor our part of the bargain," Hester added.
Daniella and three other elders dragged Lauren to the center of the room and held her prostrate on the floor. She struggled to free herself but the widow's potion that had been put in her last glass of wine left her helpless.
"Cory!" she cried as her son stood above her with an ancient Celtic knife in his hand. "Help me!"
But no words could reach the boy since his soul was no longer in his body.
"Master," the spirit of the cult leader inside the child called out. "Accept this sacrifice in exchange for your continued blessing."
Those were the last words Lauren Gerrit ever heard. Moments later, the small hand that once belonged to her son plunged the knife into her heart.
When the ceremony came to an end, Elder Daniella returned to her home and to her husband where the two privately mourned the loss of their daughter. Mattie would continue to live with them until she became an adult. Similarly, Cory would be left in Rodney Gerrit's care until he reached the age of majority, at which time he would claim his inheritance and marry his betrothed, thus reuniting Hester and Uriah.
"Several of the elders will dispose of the body," Daniella confided to her husband after the little girl went to bed. "And if anyone should wonder what became of Lauren, Rodney will tell them they split up and she returned to Virginia."
"That's a credible lie," Cooper said. "She was quite outspoken about her dislike of Shady Oak."
Daniella and the two fathers, all three of whom were made aware of the details of the ascension ceremony and the human sacrifice beforehand, had been willing to do whatever was necessary for the long life and worldly riches the cult had promised them. Eighteen months after that Christmas Eve ceremony, Elder Durward, nearly one hundred and fifty years old, would pass away, allowing Rodney to take his place in the church. Cooper Congreve would join him two years after that.
Meanwhile, life in Shady Oak continued as it had since the mid-1600s when Uriah and Hester, then known as John and Ruth Osborne, fled Puritan England along with their ten fellow pagans and founded a small New England community where they were free to practice their forbidden religion without interference.
Salem wishes he knew the widow. He loves cupcakes with chocolate frosting.
