A Winter Dream(65)

“I’m so glad that you could come!” she said.

“The pleasure is ours,” I assured her.

“You really shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble,” said Keri.

Mary was a hostess of the highest order and would not feel the affair worthwhile had she not gone to a lot of trouble.

“It was no trouble at all,” she said instinctively.

The place settings were immaculate and beautiful, and the china plates were trimmed in 24 karat gold.

“Please sit down,” she urged, motioning us to some chairs. We took our seats and waited for her to join us.

“I always pray before I eat,” she said. “Would you please join me?”

We bowed our heads.

“Dear Lord, thank you for this bounty which we have during this blessed Christmas season. Thank you for these new friends. Please bless them in their needs and their desires. Amen.”

We lifted our heads.

“Thank you,” I said.

Mary uncovered a woven basket of steaming rolls, broke them apart, and placed one on each of our plates. She then filled our goblets with water and the food-laden platters were passed around the table.

“So how are your quarters?” Mary asked. “Have you moved in all your things?”

“We have,” Keri replied.

“There was enough room in the attic? I was afraid it might be a little cramped.”

“Plenty,” I assured her. “We don’t own much furniture.” I lifted another spoonful from my plate then added, “You really have some beautiful things up there.”

She smiled. “Yes. That’s mostly my David’s doing. David loved to collect things. As a businessman, he traveled all around the world. He always brought something back from each journey. In his spare time he became very knowledgeable about furniture and antiques. A few years before he died he had started collecting Bibles.”

I bobbed my head in interest.

“See this Bible over here?” she said. She motioned to a large, leather-bound book sitting alone on a black lacquer papier-mâché table inlaid with mother-of-pearl. “That Bible is over two hundred and fifty years old. It was one of David’s favorite finds,” she shared joyously. “He brought it back from Britain. Collectors call it the ‘wicked’ Bible. In the first printing the printer made an error, and in Exodus they omitted the word ‘not’ from the seventh commandment. It reads ‘Thou shalt commit adultery.’ ”

“That’s deplorable,” Keri chuckled.

Mary laughed out loud. “It’s true,” she said. “After supper you’re welcome to look it up. The British crown fined the printer three hundred pounds for the mistake.”

“That was a costly mistake,” I said.

“It was a very popular version,” she said, smiling mischievously. “In the front parlor is a French Bible with what they call fore-edge painting. If you fan the pages back there is a watercolor of the Nativity. It was a unique art form of the period. Upstairs in the attic is a Bible box that David bought for it, but I think the book is so beautiful that I leave it out.”

“The Christmas Box,” I said.

She looked surprised at my familiarity with the box.

“Yes, there is a Nativity scene etched in the wood—of the Madonna and the Baby Jesus.”

“I saw it up there. It’s very beautiful.”

“It’s not from France, though,” she explained. “I believe it was from Sweden. Fine box-making was an art in the Scandinavian countries. When David passed away I received not a few requests to purchase the Bibles. Except for the Bible I donated to the church, and the three that I still have, I sold the rest. I just couldn’t part with these three. David took such joy in them. They were his favorite treasures.”

“Where is the third Bible?” I asked.

“I keep it in the den, for my personal reading. I’m sure there are some collectors that would have my head for doing so, but it has special significance to me.” She looked down at Jenna.

“But enough of these old things, tell me about your sweet little three-year-old,” she said kindly.

Jenna had been sitting quietly, cautiously sampling her food, largely ignored by all of us. She looked up shyly.

“Jenna is going to be four in January,” Keri said.

“I’m going to be this many,” Jenna said proudly, extending a hand with one digit inverted.

“That is a wonderful age!” Mary exclaimed. “Do you like your new home?”

“I like my bed,” she said matter-of-factly.

“She’s glad to get out of her crib,” Keri explained. “We didn’t have room in our last apartment for a bed. She was devastated when she found out that she was the only one in her dance class who slept in a crib.”