Delia sat staring into the fireplace, a drink of steaming something-or-another in her hand. The fireplace was sooty. No light or heat emanated from it. The chairs--including the one she was sitting on--had sheets draped over them. The curtains were not open. The mantel was dusty. The staff was absent. There certainly were no lights or tinsel or music or anything of that sort. 

Cerberus, ever faithful, lay at her her feet, occasionally raising a head to bump her hand and ask for skritches. They were given, in the absentminded sort of way that only left Cerberus half satisfied.

Molly stood outside the Mansion, looking around in bewilderment.  She wondered if she was too early; it didn't look as if anyone else had arrived.  If fact, it didn't look as if any preparations had been made at all.  The curtains were closed, and the place looked completely deserted.

She checked her phone to see if she had the right day.  Seemed all right, that way.  Looking with some distaste on the dusty, tarnished knocker, she decided she would knock and see if anyone was about.

Cerberus lifted his heads and barked a single resounding woof, then scrambled up and trotted toward the door. 

“Leave it, Cerb,” Delia commanded. Cerberus paused in the archway to look at her, then turned back to stare intently down the hallway at the door. 

“There’s hardly enough ghosts left in this town to qualify as a ghost town. Whatever’s knocking is troublesome, I’m sure.”

Cerberus whined.

“Oh, bother.”

Delia touched her face, mainly checking to see that it was all in place, groaned, and stood.

”I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. Maybe no one will notice.”

She reached down to pet him, but, Cerberus was already moving toward the door, so she missed. 

“Meanie,” she said, catching up and unlocking the heavy bolt. She sighed, slapped a smile on her face, and opened the door. 

“Molly! What a…pleasant…surprise!”

"Oh hello, Delia!  So there is someone here after all.  But--but--" Molly broke off; she peered into the hall, turned back to Delia again, and her face fell.  "Is--is there something wrong?  I thought there was to be a Christmas party.  Has it been cancelled?"  Molly was so disappointed that she could hardly keep from crying.  Then she looked more closely at Delia.  "Are you all right?  You look--you look rather--well, a bit like Death warmed over."

"Darling, that's precisely what I am," Delia replied, looking at the watch on her wrist. "Oh my, it's December. How is it December?"

She ran a hand over her hair, thinking. Cerberus tried to wiggle a nose out from between her legs to get a better sniff at the redhead. 

"Well," Delia finally said, "there's no point in you standing out in the cold like that. Come in. Although you won't find a party in here, I've got hot drinks, which will do in a pinch."

Soon Molly had a mug of hot chocolate warming her chilled fingers.  She perched on the edge of a chair.

"I don't mean to be nosy, but isn't there going to be a party this year?  I've been looking forward to it for weeks; I thought there was one every year."

"I believe there has been one every year, for who knows how long. But it isn't my party, you must understand. I just happen to be living here when they happen."

She blew at a wisp of steam.

"I've heard the parties have been quite the to-do in the past, back when Ditto Town was a bustling little town filled with hopes and dreams and accidental plane jumping. Now, it's barely a ghost town. I'm surprised anyone remembered."

With her free hand, Molly Brown tucked a strand of her fiery hair behind an ear. 

"I'm rather surprised; I've enjoyed all the past parties I've been to, and I thought everyone else did, too.  But I guess there's always a heyday to look back on, and remember."  She sighed reminiscently, before turning back to Delia.  "But if you're not in charge of the parties, who is?  I mean, if it were just a question of organization, I'd help out.  I've done that sort of thing--been events and entertainment co-ordinator on a cruise ship, for one." 

Looking around, it was a rather depressing sight, with dusty cobwebs the only garlands, and damp, dingy drapes shutting out the light.  But there were possibilities.  It would be kind of fun to clean it up and decorate.  Just the mammoth nature of the challenge made Molly's palms itch with eagerness.

Delia smiled sadly.

"No one is in charge of planning the party. Or maybe everyone is. These sorts of parties come about because you people's joy and goodwill and love for each other just kind of bubbles in their soul until it overflows and creates magic. That's also why it isn't just a Christmas party, or a Kwanza party, or a Chanukah party, or a Diwali party, or a Feast Day celebration. It's a party of Light, because Light to humans is hope and joy and peace and love and all those good things. You can't plan a party at the Mansion, Molly. Parties just happen when the town is ready for them to happen."

"Oh, I see!" said Molly, looking a little startled.  "I guess it makes sense when you put it that way.  So we don't know if there will be a party at all?"  She scanned the room again.  "Well, I suppose if no one else shows up, there won't be.  But would you mind if I hang around for a bit, just to see?  And if I did a bit of dusting while waiting?"

"Go right ahead," Delia said. "Just try not to activate any ancient devices or walk through a doorway and into another plane, ok?"

Molly raised an eyebrow.

"I'll try not to.  How would I tell, though?"

Without waiting for an answer, she went over to a closet door, and pulled it open.

"Aha! Just what I needed!" came a muffled cry, and she emerged, a little dishevelled, with a broom, a cloth, and an apron.  The latter she wrapped about her waist, wielding the broom like a trident, and prepared to set to work.

"I hope this isn't one of those ancient devices.  What would happen if it is, and it gets activated?  Poof of smoke, earthquake, or what?"

"Depends on the device," Delia said, pulling her feet up onto the chair and directing Cerberus up next to her so both would be out of range of Molly's broom.

"Once we got sucked up a well into an ancient computer program. One time I ended up in an eArth podcast (although that wasn't the mansion's fault). Then another time we popped out in the old west. I think you were on that trip, too."

"Oh, is that what happened?  I remember that--never did feel like I properly figured out the sheriff-professor deal.  But I'd really rather not do anything too extreme just now, or go on any wild trips.  New job, you see, and it's keeping me quite busy."

Molly sneezed as the dust swirled around.

"I'm not sure this is helping.  I wonder if there's a vacuum here; it wouldn't spread it around so much.  Or I could wet it down.  That might make a bit of a mess, though.  Hmmm!"

She rubbed her chin, reached over to absent-mindedly pat one of Cerberus's heads, and began to sing the first line of "O Holy Night" under her breath.