jg.skippingchristmas-第12节

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　〃You　look　great；　Luther。　Tanning；　I　hear。〃
　〃Trying　a　darker　shade；　yes。　I　can't　let　the　sun　get　the　best　of　me。〃
　A　huge　bite　of　the　ham…on…baguette；　with　strands　of　lettuce　trailing　along　and　hanging　between　the　lips。　Then　movement：　〃Not　a　bad　idea；　really。〃　Or　something　like　that。
　Stanley's　idea　of　a　vacation　was　a　week　in　his　beach　house；　a　hand…me…down　in　which　he　had　invested　nothing　in　thirty　years。　Luther　and　Nora　had　spent　one　dreadful　week　there；　guests　of　the　Wileys；　who　took　the　main　bedroom　and　put　the　Kranks　in　the　〃guest　suite；〃　a　narrow　room　with　bunk　beds　and　no　air　conditioning。　Stanley'd　knocked　back　gin　and　tonics　from　midmorning　until　late　afternoon　and　the　sun　never　touched　his　skin。　
　He　left；　his　cheeks　full；　but　before　Luther　could　escape；　Yank　Slader　darted　in。　〃Up　to　fifty…two　hundred　bucks；　old　boy；〃　he　announced。　〃With　no　end　in　sight。　Abigail　just　spent　six　hundred　bucks　on　a　dress　for　the　Christmas　dinner；　don't　know　why　she　couldn't　wear　the　one　from　last　year　or　the　year　before；　but　why　argue？　Shoes　were　a　buck…forty。　Purse　another　ninety。　Closets're　full　of　purses　and　shoes；　but　don't　get　me　started。　We'll　top　seven　grand　at　this　rate。　Please　let　me　go　on　the　cruise。〃
　Inspired　by　Luther；　Yank　was　keeping　a　precise　tally　on　the　Christmas　damage。　Twice　a　week　he　dashed　in　for　updates。　What　he　would　do　with　the　results　was　uncertain。　Most　likely　nothing；　and　he　knew　it。　〃You're　my　hero；〃　he　said　again；　and　left　as　quickly　as　he'd　arrived。　
　They're　all　envious；　Luther　thought　to　himself。　At　this　moment；　crunch　time　with　only　a　week　to　go；　and　the　holiday　madness　growing　each　day；　they're　all　jealous　as　hell。　Some；　like　Stanley；　were　reluctant　to　admit　it。　Others；　like　Yank；　were　downright　proud　of　Luther。
　Too　late　to　tan。　Luther　walked　to　his　window　and　enjoyed　the　view　of　a　cold　rain　falling　on　the　city。　Gray　skies；　barren　trees；　a　few　leaves　scattering　with　the　wind；　traffic　backed　up　on　the　streets　in　the　distance。　How　lovely；　he　thought　smugly。　He　patted　his　flat　stomach；　then　went　downstairs　and　had　a　diet　soda　with　Biff；　the　travel　agent。
　
　At　the　buzzer；　Nora　bolted　from　the　BronzeMat　and　grabbed　a　towel。　Sweating　was　not　something　she　particularly　enjoyed；　and　she　wiped　herself　with　a　vengeance。
　She　was　wearing　a　very　small　red　bikini；　one　that　had　looked　great　on　the　young　slinky　model　in　the　catalog；　one　she　knew　she'd　never　wear　in　public　but　Luther　had　insisted　on　anyway。　He'd　gawked　at　the　model　and　threatened　to　order　the　thing　himself。　It　wasn't　too　expensive；　so　Nora　now　owned　it。
　She　glanced　in　the　mirror　and　again　blushed　at　the　sight　of　herself　in　such　a　skimpy　garment。　Sure　she　was　losing　weight。　Sure　she　was　getting　a　tan。　But　it　would　take　five　years　of　starvation　and　hard　labor　in　the　gym　to　do　justice　to　what　she　was　wearing　at　that　moment。
　She　dressed　quickly；　pulling　her　slacks　and　sweater　on　over　the　bikini。　Luther　swore　he　tanned　in　the　nude；　but　she　wasn't　stripping　for　anyone。　
　Even　dressed；　she　still　felt　like　a　slut。　The　thing　was　tight　in　all　the　wrong　places；　and　when　she　walked；　well；　it　wasn't　exactly　fortable。　She　couldn't　wait　to　race　home；　take　it　off；　throw　it　away；　and　enjoy　a　long　hot　bath。
　She'd　made　it　safely　out　of　Tans　Forever　and　rounded　a　corner　when　she　came　face　to　face　with　the　Reverend　Doug　Zabriskie；　their　minister。　He　was　laden　with　shopping　bags；　while　she　held　nothing　but　her　overcoat。　He　was　pale；　she　was　red…faced　and　still　sweating。　He　was　fortable　in　his　old　tweed　jacket；　overcoat；　collar；　black　shirt。　Nora's　bikini　was　cutting　off　her　circulation　and　shrinking　by　the　moment。
　They　hugged　politely。　〃Missed　you　last　Sunday；〃　he　said；　the　same　irritating　habit　he'd　picked　up　years　ago。
　〃We're　so　busy；〃　she　said；　checking　her　forehead　for　sweat。　
　〃Are　you　okay；　Nora？〃
　〃Fine；〃　she　snapped。
　〃You　look　a　little　winded。〃
　〃A　lot　of　walking；〃　she　said；　lying　to　her　minister。　For　some　reason　he　glanced　down　at　her　shoes。　She　certainly　wasn't　wearing　sneakers。
　〃Could　we　chat　for　a　moment？〃　he　asked。　
　〃Well；　sure；〃　she　said。　There　was　an　empty　bench　near　the　railing　of　the　concourse。　The　Reverend　lugged　his　bags　over　and　piled　them　beside　it。　When　Nora　sat；　Luther's　little　red　bikini　shifted　again　and　something　gave　way；　a　strap　perhaps；　just　above　her　hip；　and　something　was　sliding　down　there。　Her　slacks　were　loose；　not　tight　at　all；　and　there　was　plenty　of　room　for　movement。
　〃I've　heard　lots　of　rumors；〃　he　began　softly。　He　had　the　annoying　habit　of　getting　close　to　your　face　when　he　spoke。　Nora　crossed　and　recrossed　her　legs；　and　with　each　maneuver　made　things　worse。
　〃What　kind　of　rumors？〃　she　asked　stiffly。
　〃Well；　I'll　be　very　honest；　Nora；〃　he　said；　leaning　even　lower　and　closer。　〃I　hear　it　from　a　good　source　that　you　and　Luther　have　decided　not　to　observe　Christmas　this　year。〃
　〃Sort　of；　yes。〃
　〃I've　never　heard　of　this；〃　he　said　gravely；　as　if　the　Kranks　had　discovered　a　new　variety　of　sin。
　She　was　suddenly　afraid　to　move；　and　even　then　got　the　impression　that　she　was　still　falling　out　of　her　clothes。　Fresh　beads　of　sweat　popped　up　along　her　forehead。　〃Are　you　okay；　Nora？〃　he　asked。
　〃I'm　fine　and　we're　fine。　We　still　believe　in　Christmas；　in　celebrating　the　birth　of　Christ；　we're　just　passing　on　all　the　foolishness　this　year。　Blair's　gone　and　we're　taking　a　break。〃
　He　pondered　this　long　and　hard；　while　she　shifted　slightly。　〃It　is　a　bit　crazy；　isn't　it？〃　he　said；　looking　at　the　pile　of　shopping　bags　he　had　deposited　nearby。
　〃Yes　it　is。　Look；　we're　fine；　Doug；　I　promise。　We're　happy　and　healthy　and　just　relaxing　a　bit。　That's　all。〃
　〃I　hear　you're　leaving。〃
　〃Yes；　for　ten　days　on　a　cruise。〃
　He　stroked　his　beard　as　though　he　wasn't　sure　if　he　approved　of　this　or　not。
　〃You　won't　miss　the　midnight　service；　will　you？〃　he　asked　with　a　smile。
　〃No　promises；　Doug。〃　
　He　patted　her　knee　and　said　good…bye。　She　waited　until　he　was　out　of　sight；　and　then　finally　mustered　the　courage　to　get　to　her　feet。　She　shuffled　out　of　the　mall；　cursing　Luther　and　his　bikini。
　
　Vic　Frohmeyer's　wife's　cousin's　youngest　daughter　was　active　in　her　Catholic　church；　which　had　a　large　youth　choir　that　enjoyed　caroling　around　the　city。　Couple　of　phone　calls；　and　the　gig　was　booked。　A　light　snow　was　falling　when　the　concert　began。　The　choir　formed　a　half…moon　in　the　driveway；　near　the　gas　lamp；　and　on　cue　started　bawling　〃O　Little　Town　of　Bethlehem。〃　They　waved　at　Luther　when　he　peeked　through　the　blinds。
　A　crowd　soon　gathered　behind　the　carolers；　kids　from　the　neighborhood；　the　Beckers　From　next　door；　the　Trogdon　clan。　There　by　virtue　of　an　anonymous　tip；　a　reporter　for　the　Gazette　watched　for　a　few　minutes；　then　asserted　himself　and　rang　the　Kranks'　doorbell。
　Luther　yanked　the　door　open；　ready　to　land　a　punch。　〃What　is　it？〃　〃White　Christmas〃　resounded　in　the　background。
　〃Are　you　Mr。　Krank？〃　asked　the　reporter。　
　〃Yes；　and　who　are　you？〃
　〃Brian　Brown　with　the　Gazette。　Can　I　ask　you　some　questions？〃
　〃About　what？〃
　〃About　this　skipping　Christmas　business。〃
　Luther　gazed　at　the　crowd　in　his　driveway。　One　of　those　dark　silhouettes　out　there　had　squealed　on　him。　One　of　his　neighbors　had　called　the　newspaper。　Either　Frohmeyer　or　Walt　Scheel。
　〃I'm　not　talking；〃　he　said　and　slammed　the　door。　Nora　was　in　the　shower；　again；　and　Luther　went　to　the　basement。
　
　
　Ten
　
　Luther　suggested　dinner　at　Angelo's；　their　favorite　Italian　place。　It　was　on　the　ground　floor　of　an　old　building　downtown；　far　away　from　the　hordes　at　the　malls　and　shopping　centers；　five　blocks　from　the　parade　route。　It　was　a　good　night　to　be　away　from　Hemlock。
　They　ordered　salad　with　light　dressing　and　pasta　with　tomato　sauce；　no　meat；　no　wine；　no　bread。　Nora　had　tanned　for　the　seventh　time；　Luther　for　the　tenth；　and　as　they　sipped　their　sparkling　water　they　admired　their　weathered　looks　and　chuckled　at　all　the　pale　faces　around　them。　One　of　Luther's　grandmothers　had　been　half…Italian；　and　his　Mediterranean　genes　were　proving　quite　conducive　to　tanning。　He　was　several　shades　darker　than　Nora；　and　his　friends　were　noticing。　He　couldn't　have　cared　less。　By　now；　everybody　knew　they　were　headed　for　the　islands。
　〃It's　starting　now；〃　Nora　said；　looking　at　her　watch。
　Luther　looked　at　his。　Seven　P。M。
　The　Christmas　parade　was　launched　every　year　from　Veteran's　Park；　in　midtown。　With　floats　and　fire　trucks　and　marching　bands；　it　never　changed。　Santa　always　brought　up　the　rear　in　a　sleigh　built　by　the　Rotarians　and　escorted　by　eight　fat　Shriners　on　mini…bikes。　The　parade　looped　through　the　west　side　and　came　close　to　Hemlock。　Every　year　for　the　past　eighteen；　the　Kranks　and　their　neighbors　had　camped　along　the　parade　route　and　made　an　event　out　of　it。　It　was　a　festive　evening；　one　Luther　and　Nora　wished　to　avoid　this　year。
　Hemlock　would　be　wild　with　kids　and　carolers　and　who　knew　what　else。　Probably　bicycle　gangs　chanting　〃Free　Frosty〃　and　little　terrorists　planting　signs　on　their　front　lawn。
　〃How　was　the　firm's　Christmas　dinner？〃　Nora　asked。
　〃Sounded　like　the　usual。　Same　room；　same　waiters；　same　tenderloin；　same　soufflé。　Slader　said　Stanley　got　drunk　as　a　skunk　during　cocktails。〃
　〃