Valerie Gardner settled the tasteful evergreen wreath, laced with mistletoe and red velvet ribbon, onto the hook on the front door, stepped back and admired it with a smile and a sigh. At last, a wonderful holiday celebration lay ahead. Her carefully chosen guests from the upper echelons of local society and approved members of her own family would make the party perfect.

Ted's uncouth family from Ohio wouldn't mar her meticulous plans the way they had last year. They were headed to Kansas to plague another of their daughters-in-law. She shuddered at the memory of last year's fiasco, thankful it wouldn't be repeated.

Granted, some colorful characters decorated her own family tree with a few eccentric nuts, but, by and large, they never pushed her onto a wild roller coaster ride that had her stomach churning as it carried her from one disastrous low point to another, the way Ted's family usually did.

Like the year Ted's inebriated Uncle Frank, dressed as Kermit the Frog, had embarrassed the entire Gardner clan by throwing up on Valerie's prized guest at cocktails: none other than Mayor White, himself. And Frank's puppy, Miss Piggy, had relieved herself on the mayor's shoe. Valerie had thought she'd never be able to show her face at city council meetings again.

But, at last, she'd lived it down.

She checked the refreshments for her old fashioned Christmas party one last time. Egg nog: a sufficient supply (who liked the stuff, anyway?), and other, more appealing, liquid libations. Appetizers: three trays of assorted cheeses, cold cuts, and paté, along with crackers, Melba toast and other crunchies. Yes. And sweets. Candies, cookies, tiny cheesecake bites and assorted red and green holiday treats. She'd even labored over decorating home-baked gingerbread men to add that special old fashioned touch. Their spicy scent wafted through the kitchen and added to the festive ambiance.

The greenery interspersed with strands of tiny white lights (all right, so the lights weren't exactly old fashioned) looked exquisite draped in swags along the walls. And the tree. Oh, my, the tree. Valerie had spared no expense. She'd hired a decorator to provide a tree to die for. She almost got misty-eyed looking at it (almost, but not quite; wouldn't want the mascara to run).

Valerie was ready.

When the doorbell rang, she hurried to the foyer, enjoying the rustle of her taffeta skirt as it swept over the carpet (she was certain she made quite the genteel picture of loveliness in her old fashioned attire). She greeted Aunt Susannah and Uncle Arthur with a suggestion of a hug (don't wrinkle the taffeta) and kisses-in-the-air (don't want the lipstick smeared). Soon, her guests were assembled in the drawing room (okay, so the builder had called it a family room), chatting quietly, occasional titters of amusement blending with the clink of ice cubes in Valerie's crystal tumblers.

Perfect.

Valerie glided from one conversation group to another, the perfect hostess, her hand poised gracefully, her smile not too broad, but friendly (she'd practiced many long hours in front of the mirror).

The door bell rang and a slight frown puckered Valerie's forehead. Who could that be? She scanned the room, taking a mental tally: yes, all her invited guests had arrived. She hurried down the hall, anxious to be rid of this interruption.

And opened the door.

And took a few staggering steps backward.

“Hey there,” Mother Gardner said and enfolded Valerie in an exuberant hug. “My, don't you look pretty.”

“But…but… I thought you were going to—” Valerie began.

“There's a blizzard going on in Kansas, so we’ll have to wait for a couple of days for it to blow over. Since we hadn't made plans to have Christmas at home, we thought we'd just drop down here to Alabama and surprise you guys instead. We wouldn't want you and Teddy to be lonesome at Christmas, you know. Besides, you always put on such a nice spread for Christmas dinner. We love your Southern cooking.” She yelled over her shoulder, “You guys hurry up now!”

One by one, the Gardners filed inside, past a paralyzed Valerie and down the hall toward her unsuspecting guests.

The last one in the entourage was Uncle Frank, sporting a red-and-white striped stocking on his bald pate. A bell attached to the toe tinkled every time he moved his head. He stopped, chucked Valerie under the chin and said, “We'll have lots of fun tonight, liven things up for you. Me and Brian and Wally formed a kazoo band. Wait 'til you hear our rendition of 'Jingle Bells.'”

And Valerie fainted.