Diva 04 _ Diva Cooks a Goose, The by Krista Davis Page A

as she explained about the auction. “When I opened my shop, I realized that we all acquire new things at Christmas, but few of us clear out old items. So I organized the Auld Lang Syne Auction between Christmas and New Year’s. We ask everyone to donate items they no longer use, and we auction them off, with the proceeds going to needy families. Sometimes it pays for a new roof or guttering, sometimes it helps defray medical expenses. It’s a win-win situation. Everyone gets to start the year on the right foot. That’s why I called it the Auld Land Syne Auction. We’re saying good-bye to something old and everyone gets a fresh start.”
    “Sophie, I can’t believe you’ve never mentioned this to us. What fun!” My mom shook her head in mock dismay.
    “And for a good cause, too,” said Dad. “Do George and Laci know about the auction? There they are ...” He didn’t even finish speaking before he and Mom rushed over to tell George, whom I was quite certain couldn’t care less.
    “I love your parents’ enthusiasm. They’re just the kind of bidders we need. Oh! I see someone I must greet. Excuse me.” Bonnie took off, in nude-colored heels that would have toppled me, but she bypassed the people who appeared to want her attention and made a beeline for Phil, who stared out the window at Marnie with a wistful expression.
    “I hope Phil’s wife isn’t stupid enough to fight Bonnie for him.” The man next to me sipped from a glass of wine, then held out his hand. “Tom Thorpe.”
    “I’m George Bauer’s sister, Sophie. Are you the neighbor who played Santa for the kids?”
    “It was the least I could do. I still can’t believe that anyone could be so mean to little children that he would steal their toys.”
    He didn’t look like Santa Claus. Although his hair had gone silver, he wore it short, which emphasized his masculine bone structure. He also maintained an athletic physique and needed a big pillow to achieve Santa’s girth. His dark eyes glinted with mirth. No wonder my mother found him appealing.
    “My wife and I started that tradition when our sons were young. I just kept it up through the years. Honestly, I think I get as much out of it as the little ones do.”
    “You’re married? You’d better tell my mom.” I pointed in her direction. “She’s determined to find someone for you.”
    He laughed aloud, with genuine joy. “The effervescent Inga. She’s delightful. I look forward to meeting the woman she comes up with—I’ve been a widower for many years.”
    Finally! Someone who wasn’t annoyed by my mother’s constant matchmaking. “I’m sorry about your wife.”
    He took a deep breath. “You never quite get over losing a spouse. But my sons Tyler and Walter are adults now, old enough to be getting married themselves. In fact, I’m going to be a grandpa in the spring.” He hoisted his glass in a toast to someone across the room. Forrest and Ginger’s daughter, Emma, toasted back, but her wineglass appeared to contain milk or eggnog. Without her mother present, Emma was all smiles. I guessed the young man beside her, with the modern messy top haircut, was Dasher. The sides were cut short, but some kind of pomade helped it stand up on top. He’d shaved off the grungy beginnings of a beard, revealing a surprisingly handsome face. In spite of Ginger’s opinion of him, I could understand Emma’s attraction. He appeared quite respectable in a maroon turtleneck and crisply pressed trousers, almost dashing.
    “Now that the kids are grown, I think it’s time for me to enjoy the companionship of a woman again,” said Tom.
    A bell tinkled, and Bonnie asked everyone to take their seats. I found my name written in an elegant script on the cone of sugared nuts on my plate. No sooner had I sat down than the bell rang again. Bonnie stood and raised a wineglass. “To my friends and family, thank you for coming to my Boxing Day party. Merry Christmas to you all!” She sipped from her