Lisa R. Howeler's Blog, page 56

Saturday Afternoon Chat: Lighting our first fire of the year, a trip to a reptile zoo, and The Boy turns 17.

It is cocoa with maple syrup time now that the weather is cold in Pennsylvania. That is what I am drinking this morning but later I will be sipping tea because I use real cocoa powder for my hot cocoa and if I have too much it trips my tachycardia issues a few hours later. Weird, I know.

We lit our first fire earlier this week and it was nice to have the house nice and cozy during the day and comfortable at night.

It is not lit yet today and I really need to get on that because it is going to be chilly again today, though not as cold as it was earlier this week. I am writing this blog post, though, so the fire will have to wait.

My almost 17-year-old (Tuesday he will be 17) will have to man the fire this afternoon because The Husband will be at work and Little Miss and I will be at my parents’ house making apple pies for The Boy’s birthday. He and my husband are not huge cake fans so my mom makes them pies. Now that Mom is 79, it isn’t as easy for her to make the pies on her own so Little Miss and I help. We will help again in a couple of weeks for Thanksgiving and my husband’s birthday, which are the same day this year.

Little Miss and I picked out the apples for The Boy’s pies yesterday at a farm store near us. My dad sent me a link to a website that helped us figure out which apples are best to use since previously we used Macintosh and they were too runny. We picked them up during a run to get groceries and to take my mom to get her license photo taken. It was so fun to look in the store with all its natural food and treats but I didn’t want to blow our budget so I got the apples, a small amount of chocolate, and a natural soda.

My mom can’t drive anymore but for some reason she still wanted her photo taken for her license and I wasn’t about to argue with her. Mom has suffered from Fibromyalgia for years and there have been times when getting around even at her house has been hard for her.

A few years ago she lost over 100 pounds with diet and she was able to get around even better. Her right shoulder is in bad shape, though, and surgery isn’t an option so there are days she is in total agony and can barely lift her arms. She walks with a walker and does well around the house now. Yesterday she was going to have to walk a bit to get to the bathroom at the DMV and then to get her photo taken and that made me nervous at first. I worried about what I would do if she fell or needed to suddenly sit down. I had nothing to worry about because she did amazing.

She might be hurting today but yesterday she got everything that she needed to get done without needing a wheelchair or to sit down. I was very proud of her. She shows me how to push through even when we are struggling.

Earlier in the week, Little Miss, The Boy, and I took advantage of an offer by our wonderful county library to attend a field trip at a reptile zoo about an hour away.

Little Miss absolutely loves reptiles so I kept this a surprise for more than two months and managed to keep it a surprise despite talking about the logistics of getting there with The Husband in front of her more than once. She thought I had a doctor’s appointment and that’s why we were driving so far but when we pulled up and she read the sign she was so excited.

She was also overwhelmed. There were so many exhibits with snakes, geckos, lizards, turtles, and alligators she could barely contain her excitement. She ran from exhibit to exhibit, her eyes wide.

In the courtyard, there was also a dinosaur display with animatronic dinosaurs, which we enjoyed seeing and interacting with.

The library paid for the tickets for everyone who signed up for the event, which was really amazing of them because the tickets are $20 a person for anyone 12 and up and $16 for those 2 to 12.

The prices are steep but the place allows you to stay as long as you want, see all the educational live programs they have going on during the day, and bring and eat your lunch in the pavilions they have there or inside their gift shop. I am sure we will be visiting there again in the spring. Most of the exhibits are inside but running between buildings was a little chilly that day.

I’ll be sharing more about this trip in a separate blog post later this week.

It was a long day when we went there because it was an hour’s drive down and then an hour’s drive back, plus the three hours we spent there.

On Thursday, Little Miss had gymnastics and I sat in the car and tried to work on the next book I am writing that comes out next year.

Next week I don’t have as much planned, other than celebrating The Boy turning 17, so I am looking forward to some calmer and cozier days.

How was your week last week? Did you do anything fun? Anything exciting planned for this week?

Let me know in the comments.

Fiction Friday: Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage Chapter 12 and Chapter 13

As always, this is a work in progress and there could be (will be) typos, plot holes, and other errors but those will be fixed before the book is published a couple of months from now.

If you want to read the first book in the series, you can find it on Amazon HERE.

If you don’t want to read this story in chapters on a blog and would rather read the fully-finished and polished version, you can pre-order it HERE.

Chapter 12

If you want to learn more about my other books you can find links to them HERE

Chapter After the tense supper with her father, Gladwynn decided she’d stop by Brewed Awakening for a cup of coffee to get her through the rest of her shift. Abbie was behind the counter with a smile, which was exactly what she needed.

“Whoa. You okay?”

Leave it to Abbie to be able to see right through her. She’d made sure she was smiling when she walked in and she and Abbie had only been friends for a few months, but Abbie could already tell when something was off.

Gladwynn waved her hand as if to dismiss the concern. “I’m fine. Just family drama.”

Abbie reached for a cup. Gladwynn knew she was getting ready to prepare Gladwynn’s usual coffee with French vanilla creamer and a dollop of whip cream on top. “Your dad?”

“Of course.”

Abbie turned to the coffee machine. The liquid pouring into the cup soothed Gladwynn and she found herself staring at it longingly.

Abbie glanced over her shoulder. “Already? Didn’t he just get there?”

Gladwynn reached into her purse for her wallet. “He doesn’t like to wait to bring a person down. Might as well get it over with seems to be his motto.”

The whipped cream spiraled upward and a swirl of chocolate syrup was added on top. “What’s his issue? Your moving or your job?”

“Both.”

Abbie slid a lid on the coffee cup and handed it to her. “Hopefully he accepts soon that you’re a grown woman and living your own life. Maybe it’s just hard for him and your mom to let you go.”

Gladwynn laughed. “No. That’s definitely not it. More like it’s hard for them to accept that I’m going to live my life and not the life they mapped out for me.” She took a sip from the cup. “Hey, I have this theory I want to run by you.”

Abbie tapped the top of the counter. “Run it by me. I’m ready.”

Gladwynn leaned closer, her elbows on the counter. “I think Derek was Samantha’s father.”

Abbie leaned back, eyes wide. “Really? What makes you think that?”

“Grandma and I found a letter in Samantha’s apartment from her mom apologizing to her for not telling her who her father was earlier.”

Abbie tilted her head, a small smile pulling at one corner of her mouth. “You were snooping at her apartment?”

Gladwynn shook her head. “No. We were looking for the extra scripts she had with notes for the actors. The letter discovery was an accident. Or at least Grandma said it was.”

Abbie pulled a tray of cookies from under the counter and began to refill the display case. “I can’t believe you’re pulling your grandma into being a snoop.”

“I did no such thing. She invited herself along. I offered to go so Grandma or anyone else that was close to Samantha didn’t have to.”

Abbie lowered her voice. “Did the letter say that Derek was her father?”

“No, but I just have a gut feeling. I mean Derek moved here like three years ago, Samantha two. They spent a lot of time together and – I don’t know. The letter just makes me think that Samantha was trying to connect with him.”

“Do you think he knew she was his daughter?”

Gladwynn shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if my theory is true or not.”

The front door opened and several people stepped inside. Gladwynn guessed they were all together, maybe visiting the local state park or family in town.

“Good luck,” she whispered to Abbie before stepping away from the counter. “I’ll let you know if I find out anything else.”

“You better,” Abbie whispered.

The group was blocking her exit so she waited to one side, sipping the coffee. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a blur of color and blond hair.

“Gladwynn!”

She looked toward the sound of her name being called. Summer was walking toward her with a cup in one hand and a takeaway pastry bag in the other.

“Gladwynn! Oh my goodness! I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since you found Samantha.” The tall, blond threw her arms around Gladwynn and pulled her in for a brief, tight hug. She leaned back, her hands still on Gladwynn’s upper arms. “Are you okay? I mean you can’t be okay. Not after such a shock. It was a shock, wasn’t it? It’s all over town that you and Doris found her. I just can’t believe she’s gone. It’s like a total nightmare.” She let go and swept her long curls off her shoulder. “Do you think she was really murdered? Based on what you saw? I mean was there a knife or something?”

Gladwynn waited for a few seconds to be sure Summer was done speaking before answering. “Uh. No. I didn’t see a murder weapon. And yes, it is a shock. I have no idea if she was murdered or not based on what I saw but the police seem to think she was.”

Summer grasped Gladwynn gently by the elbow and ushered her toward a table. “Sit down. Take a load off.  I’m sure you could use someone to talk to. I know I could.”

“Actually, I have to get back to –”

Summer sat at the table and patted the surface of it in front of the chair across from her. “Oh just sit for a few. You work so hard. Luke is always saying so.”

Gladwynn sat reluctantly, catching the eye of Abbie who looked at her with a questioning expression. “I can stay a few minutes, sure.”

Summer sipped her tea and broke off a piece of her cookie. “Samantha and I had the best conversation one night in her apartment a couple of months ago. She was helping me learn my lines and we started talking about our lives and where we grew up. I grew up here, of course, but she told me she’d grown up in a small town somewhere in Nebraska. Her father was a farmer and her mother was a teacher. I could relate, of course, because my mother was also a teacher. I guess that’s why I love to read so much. My mother read all the time and it inspired me and now here I am working at the library that I practically lived in when I was growing up.”

Interesting. Hadn’t Vince said Samantha told him she was from outside Chicago?

Summer reached inside her purse for a tissue. Her voice softened. “Sam was so full of life. She had such plans for her future. She wanted to get married and have lot of children because she said she’d been an only child and she didn’t want her children to have such a lonely upbringing.”

She wiped her eyes and then gently blew her nose. “You hadn’t had a chance to meet her, had you?”

Gladwynn took a sip of her coffee. “No. I was set to meet her the day she died.” She leaned back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Did she ever tell you what brought her to Brookstone?”

Summer frowned. “Not that I recall.”

“She didn’t say if she had any connections here? I mean, Brookstone, Pennsylvania is a long way from Nebraska.”

Summer’s blond waves bounced as she shook her head. “I couldn’t tell you. Maybe? I guess she just liked the area or something and the job looked good to her.”

A car honked somewhere outside. The line at the front of the shop was getting smaller now and most of the people who had come in earlier had found tables to sit.

“I think it’s weird that Derek died the week before her,” Gladwynn said. “I heard they used to hang out a lot. Did anyone ever say anything to you about who found Derek or how he died?”

Summer’s eyes widened. “Gosh. I don’t know who found him. I do think it’s weird he died only a week before Sam, but I have no idea how he died.”

Gladwynn glanced at her watch. She really needed to get to work. She was already late. Still she wondered what other information she might be able to pull from Summer. “Will you be going to his funeral?”

“Oh, of course. I loved Derek. Everyone did.” She broke off another piece of her cookie and popped it in her mouth. “He was a sweet man and a huge supporter of the library and the theater. He made a huge donation for us to buy books last year. We were able to replace half of the children’s library inventory with it.”

“Wow. So Derek must have had some money then.”

“He must have, but I don’t know much about him or his background. All I know is that he was hilarious, full of life like Samantha, and absolutely loved old black and white movies. He and Samantha used to watch them together in the lounge or at his or her apartment and even invited me one night. We watched Monkey Business with Cary Grant and Ginger Rogers. Marilyn Monroe played a small part in it too. Have you seen it?”

Gladwynn sipped her coffee again. “I have actually. My grandma and I love to watch old movies together.”

Summer broke off another piece of cookie, eating it has daintily as she had the other pieces. “Luke loves old movies too. I can’t say I’m a huge fan but I watch them because he likes them. I’ve enjoyed a couple we’ve watched, but I’m more a fan of 80s chick flicks.”

There she went again, slyly dropping Luke’s name into the conversation. Gladwynn wondered if she was doing it on purpose or it was natural for him to talk about him because they were so close.

“You know, it was weird,” Summer said thoughtfully. “That night when we watched the movie, Samantha kept getting up and taking phone calls. She seemed – I don’t know. Off somehow. I don’t know if it was the phone call or if something else was going on. I asked her if she was okay and she said she was a diabetic and hadn’t eaten right that day, but I felt like there was something more going on.”

Gladwynn spun the coffee cup in her hand. “When was this again?”

Summer touched a long finger to her chin and Gladwynn found herself staring at the dark red hue of her fingernail polish. “About five months ago. I think anyhow.” She stopped tapping her chin. “Oh, yes. That would have been about that long. It was when Luke and I were going to go to a renaissance festival but then he decided he didn’t want to go so Sam and Derek invited me to come over instead.”

She could stop mentioning Luke anytime now. That was the third time. In fact, to help her stop mentioning Luke, Gladwynn was going to excuse herself.

“I hate to cut this short, but I do need to get back to work.”

Summer brushed crumbs off her hand onto a napkin. “Oh, of course. I’ve taken up enough of your time.” She smiled, her eyes glistening. “Thank you for listening. It felt good to talk about Sam. She’s truly going to be missed.”

The sincerity in Summer’s voice was clear and Gladwynn agreed with her as she stood. She wished Summer a good day then quickly made her way to the front door before anyone else could stop her.

As she drove, she thought back to what Summer had said about Samantha seeming off that night. Maybe she’d simply been off because she hadn’t taken care of her health. Or could it have been because of whoever had been on the phone with her? Maybe someone was threatening her? Maybe Derek had told his children about her and it was one of them who she’d been on the phone with her that night.

***

 Gladwynn couldn’t believe it but she’d finally caved under the pressure and given in to playing Diana in the Willowbrook production of Anne of Green Gables. Now here she was on a Saturday morning trying to learn her lines when she could have been at the lake relaxing,

She’d barely seen her father since their conversation two nights ago. She’d been at work and he’d been on conference calls or closed up in her grandfather’s office by the time she was up for the day.

This morning he was off for a jog. Gladwynn wondered what he would think when he arrived home and found Jacob and Brutus in the kitchen with Lucinda.

As far as she knew, Lucinda still hadn’t told him about her and Jacob “spending time together.” In some ways Gladwynn wanted to be out of the room when William returned, but in other ways she wanted to sit back for the show when he saw Jacob.

Lucinda was upstairs getting dressed for Derek’s funeral. Gladwynn had agreed to attend with her, partially to offer her support and partially because she wanted to get a look at Derek’s family.

She’d chosen a more conservative dress than she normally wore, color-wise at least The dark brown pencil skirt matched nicely with a white blouse without sleeves with a frilly neckline. She’d chosen her darker red lipstick and styled her hair into a 1940s style she’d seen online. She was actually quite pleased with how it came out.

Lucinda came down the stairs in a black skirt and white blouse with a black suit coat over it. “I’m going to grab myself some toast and tea. Have you had anything?”

“A little oatmeal and coffee,” Gladwynn answered, laying the script on the coffee table. “Jacob is in there reading the paper still. Have you said anything to dad about him?”

Lucinda adopted her best innocent expression.

“There simply hasn’t been any time. Your father has been working so much since he’s been here.”

Gladwynn followed Lucinda into the kitchen. Sunlight poured across the white and green flowered linoleum.  “That’s no different from any other time.” She picked up her coffee mug and slid it in the microwave. “You’re going to have to explain at some point why there is a man in your kitchen.”

Jacob chuckled from behind the newspaper. “I told her I could make myself scarce but she expressed pretty much the same thing you have about him needing to know eventually.” He lowered the newspaper. “Which is why I’m still here.” He put the paper back up again. “Besides we are all adults here. I’m sure your father will be a lot calmer about things than you think.”

The front door opened as Gladwynn took her mug from the microwave. “Well, we are about to find out. Buckle up, Chief.”

Jacob chuckled again from behind the newspaper.

William walked briskly into the kitchen wiping his brow with a handkerchief. “Looks like it’s going to be hotter than the forecast said today. It’s already heating up out there.”

He didn’t seem to notice the newspaper propped up on the table or the hands holding it as he made his way to the cupboards for a glass. He had retrieved the pitcher of water, turned around and was filling the glass when he looked up and his gaze fell on the newspaper.

Gladwynn sat herself at the seat at the end of the table, next to Jacob. Crossing one leg over the other, she sipped her coffee, and watched her father over the rim of the mug.

William set the pitcher and glass down and cleared his throat. “Oh. You ladies didn’t tell me we had a visitor today.”

Again with the throat clearing, Gladwynn thought with a small, quiet laugh.

Jacob lowered the paper, folded it, and laid it on the kitchen table, then smiled.

For her part, Lucinda continued to make herself toast and heat up the water for her tea as if nothing unusual was occurring. “Hmmm? Oh, yes. William this is Jacob and his canine friend Brutus. They join us for breakfast and dinner from time to time.”

One of William’s eyebrows raised as he propped his hands on the counter behind him. “Jacob. Hello. You were a friend of my father’s weren’t you?”

Jacob stood and walked around the table, holding his hand out. “I was. Also a deacon at the church for years, but mainly after you left for college. Good to see you again.”

William looked at Jacob’s hand suspiciously for a few seconds before taking it and shaking it firmly, his expression unreadable. Gladwynn swallowed a laugh at her father’s awkwardness.

“Jacob. Yes. I remember you.” He let Jacob’s hand go. “Good to see you too. You used to be police chief, or maybe you still are?”

Jacob shook his head slowly. “Nope. Not chief anymore. Retired for a few years now.”

Gladwynn had to give her father credit for recovering quickly from the surprise. He tossed in a smile for good measure even if it was a smile tinted with a bit of confusion.

Jacob sat back down and lifted his coffee cup. “Your mother makes a mean cup of coffee.”

William looked at Lucinda, whose back was to him, keeping his eyes focused on her as he responded, the smile fading. “Yes. Yes, she does. I know my father always said so.”

Lucinda poured hot water into her teacup. “William, I think you remember that Gladwynn and I are going to the funeral of a friend of mine this morning. We’ll be home later and I’ll make sure to fix us all some supper. I hope you don’t mind if Jacob joins us.”

William looked back at Jacob and the smile returned. “Of course I don’t mind. The more the merrier.” He turned back to the refrigerator and pulled a lemon out to cut slices for his water. “I’m sorry to hear about your friend. Anyone I know?”

“No,” Lucinda said. “Derek Murphy was his name – well, actually, I guess his name was Derek Thornton but he went by Murphy when I knew him.”

William began to cut the lemon into slices. “The Derek Thornton? The founder and owner of the Thornton Hotel company?”

Lucinda sat down at the table with her tea and toast. “Yes, from what I’m reading in the papers. He never told any of us that, though.”

William squeezed lemon into his water, then hooked one on the edge of the glass. “That’s strange. I heard he had retired but didn’t know he was living here. What in the world brought him to Brookstone?”

Lucinda shrugged. “No idea. We’re all wondering that now ourselves.”

William sat at the table with his glass of water. “My firm did some work for the Thornton family years ago, when Derek was still in charge. Heard he was a good guy. I played a few rounds of golf with one of his sons. I think his name was Michael.”

Gladwynn and Lucinda gave each other a look, remembering the day outside Samantha’s condo.

“What did you make of Michael?” Gladwynn asked, drinking the last of her coffee.

“Didn’t have a lot of time to get an impression of him really,” William said. “He seemed like a take charge guy. Didn’t like it when he didn’t make a put. Bit of a temper on him, but a lot of guys have a bit of temper when it comes to golf. He took a couple of calls during one round and used a few choice words. Beyond that, we didn’t really interact.” He took a long drink of the water and stood. “Anyhow, I’m sorry to hear about his father. Like I said, a good guy. Always fair and easy to talk to from what my colleagues said. I’m going to head up and get a shower and then do a few things in Dad’s office.” He tipped a nod at Jacob. “Jacob, have a good day and see you for supper.”

Jacob lifted a hand. “You too, William.”

A few moments later Lucinda had finished her breakfast and had her purse over her shoulder. “Ready to go?” When they reached the front door, she picked up her purse and keys from the table next to the coat rack. “We’ll take my car. Yours is much too flashy. Jacob, you’re going to meet us there after you drop off Brutus?”

Jacob had followed them down the hallway, Brutus trotting along behind him. “Yes, ma’am. That’s the plan.”

Lucinda winced. “Don’t call me ma’am. It makes me feel like one of my former students is addressing me.”

Jacob kissed Lucinda’s cheek. “My dear, I am definitely not one of your former students so I will refrain from doing that again.”

Gladwynn was certain she saw a blush spread across Lucinda’s cheeks as a girlish smile crossed her lips and she patted Jacob’s cheek with her hand. “You’re too sweet. See you soon.”

Jacob’s eyes were focused on Lucinda’s now and they were twinkling. “See you soon too.”

It was Gladwynn’s turn to clear her throat. “Okay, you two. Let’s save this for later.”

Lucinda shot her granddaughter a quick scowl and then they all walked onto the porch, Jacob passing by them with Brutus on the way back to his house.

“There’s nothing wrong with flashy.” Gladwynn commented, referring to Lucinda’s earlier comment about her car.

“It attracts the attention of police.” Lucinda paused, looked over her shoulder and winked. “Of course, you attract the attention of the police even out of that car.”

Gladwynn narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lucinda continued down the driveway toward the garage. “Lindy Brown at the barracks said she sensed some ‘energy’ coming off you and Tanner when you stopped by the other day.”

Gladwynn scoffed. “Lucinda Grant. Come on. First it was Luke and now you and your friends are trying to set me up with Tanner?” She stepped around Lucinda and down the front stairs. “Who is Lindy anyhow?”

“The receptionist you spoke with.”

“What is going on? Do you have spies everywhere?”

Lucinda reached into her purse and clicked the button on the remote to open the garage door. “Don’t be silly, sweetie. People just like to share information with me.”  She smiled sweetly as the garage door rose. “And sometimes that information is related to you.”

Gladwynn eyed her grandmother warily as she walked to the passenger side and opened the door. “The only reason I went to the police station is become someone blabbed that I had that letter.”

“It was evidence.”

“I was going to give it to him.”

“I felt you needed a nudge.”

Gladwynn pulled the door of the large 1987 Lincoln closed behind her and reached for her seatbelt. “I’ll nudge you,” she mumbled under her breath.

Lucinda started the car with a grin. “What’s that, honey?”

“Nothing.”

“You might like to hear what else Lindy told me.”

Gladwynn folded her hands over her purse. “I’m listening.”

“She overheard another detective and Tanner talking and they said the coroner report said there was a small indentation in Samantha’s skin just by her collar bone. Barely noticeable.”

Lucinda paused as she backed the car out, but didn’t continue her story once she reached the end of the driveway.

“Well? What does that mean?” Gladwynn prodded.

“I don’t know. That’s all Lindy heard.”

“Could it mean she was poisoned with something?”

Lucinda shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine but I would say it sounds like it to me. I mean, she was a diabetic so it’s possible it has something to do with that, but I don’t think that’s a normal place to give an insulin shot and it was odd enough to the coroner for him to make a note of it.”

Who in Samantha’s life would want to kill her? Someone from the theater? Maybe Emerald, who had wanted her job. It seemed a bit much to kill someone simply to direct a retirement community play, though.

Gladwynn was still leaning toward someone from Derek’s family, especially if they thought Samantha might end up with some of the money they expected to inherit.

Chapter 13

The parking lot of the Brookstone Methodist Church was packed by the time they arrived. Lucinda had said Derek was a popular man but Gladwynn hadn’t realized how popular. Of course, it may also have been because those who knew him in his previous life had now learned of his passing and were curious why he’d passed away so far from home. A small collection of television news vans reminded her that Derek had been a very rich and powerful man when he was alive and members of his family still were very rich and powerful.

She and Lucinda passed a few cameramen on their way into the church, ignoring a reporter who asked how they had known Derek and if they’d been shocked to know who he really was.

A reporter holding a microphone and speaking into a camera asked the same question Gladwynn had in her mind as they walked up the sidewalk toward the front stairs of the church. “Derek Thornton moved to this quaint, rural community two years ago, but what would make the former CEO of a multi-million-dollar hotel chain leave his company and move 600 miles away, changing his name and assuming a quiet life in a retirement community?”

“Why indeed,” Lucinda whispered as they stepped into the lobby of the church, which was filled to the brim with residents – some looking to say goodbye to Derek and some possibly there just to see the drama that might unfold. She leaned close to Gladwynn. “We might not even be able to find a seat.”

A hand waving at the back of the church caught Gladwynn’s attention as they entered the sanctuay. She nodded toward the hand. “It looks like Doris saved us seats.”

The seats weren’t close enough to the front to get as good of a look at the family as Gladwynn would have liked but she could see several people sitting up front, most wearing black.   A couple of the women were wearing large black and white hats like she’d see the royals wearing at the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middelton.

Michael Thornton sat at the front of the church next to one of the women in the hats. The entire family looked out of place in the small church with its white walls, tall stained glass windows and dark wood pews.

The woman next to Michael looked like a model on the front of Vogue. Her jet-black hair was pulled back tight and tucked up under the hat, where Gladwynn imagined it was held together in a bun. The woman’s chin and pert nose were pointed upward, her lips pressed into a thin line. Dark eyelashes, very possibly fake, draped over narrowed eyes. Everything about her body language screamed her discomfort with being there. Very little about her showed any grief.

Next to the woman that Gladwynn had guessed was Michael’s wife was another woman with red hair. She looked at her gold watch and pushed a strand of her hair back from her face. As Gladwynn glanced down the row she could only see the backs of heads until she came to the end of the row where a woman with short dark hair dabbed a tissue at the corner of her eye, her shoulders drooping.

A dark wooden casket with gold trim sat at the front of the church open with Derek barely visible. Gladwynn didn’t mind not having a better view. She’d never liked the idea of an open casket at a funeral. The body inside was merely a shell and for her it was hard to see the person she loved not moving, their spirit gone. At least in her grandfather’s case, she’d known where his spirit was residing.

Several moments passed before the pastor stepped up to the podium. He delivered a brief introduction, sharing a story about Derek donating the money needed to fix the roof of the church and then opened the floor for anyone who wanted to share memories of Derek. No one from the family stood but several members of the community did, including Doris, Lucinda, and other residents at Willowbrook. A couple of the speakers expressed shock at learning who Derek was.

“He was down to earth, never showed airs as the saying goes,” Floyd Simpson said. “He played a dang good game of gin rummy too. Old fool owed me $20 and never let on he had plenty to pay me back with.” He laughed good naturedly and then the smile faded. “I’m going to miss him. A lot of people are going to miss him. He brought a lot of good into a hurting world. I hope we all can remember to live like he did and pass the good on to others.”

As Louise stood Gladwynn noticed Eileen sitting behind her, head bowed, wearing a pair of dark sunglasses. She lifted the sunglasses briefly and rubbed a tissue under her eyes. Another person spoke and then the pastor drew the service to a close. Still, no one from the family stood to speak. Gladwynn was surprised the patriarch of a wealthy family had died and absolutely no one from his immediate family stood to say something nice or good about him.

She excused herself to the bathroom as soon as the service ended, hoping to beat the rush. The outside door opened as soon as she locked the stall door. A soft growl from the other side of the stall startled her.

“That was so tedious,” a woman’s voice complained, the click of heels against the floor mixing in with her words.

A second female voice, this one with a thick New York City accent, spoke. “I can’t even believe we had to have his funeral in this stupid little town.”

Then a third woman. “Marjorie don’t be awful. It’s what Derek wanted. It was in his will and I, for one, am glad that Michael respected your father’s wishes.”

The first woman spoke again. “You would be, Beatrice. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? What’s it like to walk around with a halo over your head? The only reason Michael agreed to it was because that country-bumpkin lawyer said they had to have the funeral here before the will can be read.”

The second woman snorted. “Exactly. I bet Derek had that thing read here because he thought that woman was going to be here. I can’t even believe he was going to give her part of the money. She did nothing to earn that money.”

Beatrice spoke again, this time from the stall next to Gladwynn. “If she really was his daughter then she deserved that money.”

The second woman: “The key word there is if she was his daughter. I get that Derek believed her and her mother but, come on, the old man should have ordered a blood test. She was probably just some money grubbing gold digger. Oh. Is that your pink lipstick? Can I borrow some?”

The first: “It is. The one I got at Macy’s. Go ahead and use it. And you’re right. I think she was just after Derek’s money. It doesn’t matter now, though, of course. She’s dead and she won’t be getting any of it. Too bad.”

Her “too bad” was definitely flippant and it was clear she didn’t really think Samantha’s death was a bad thing at all.

A soft whoosh was followed by the sweet smell of perfume. Gladwynn pressed herself against the back of the stall, hoping they wouldn’t notice her feet under the door.

The door to the stall next to her opened and then closed again. The faucet turned on, almost drowning out Beatrice’s words. “You’re both being awful. That poor young woman was murdered.”

The first woman laughed. “We’re not awful, Bea. We’re honest. I mean even you, Saint Beatrice, don’t want to lose your money, do you?” Her tone dripped with sarcastic mocking. “How else would you donate all that money to that church of yours?”

The door opened and closed again, a sound that Gladwynn imagined was Beatrice choosing to take the high road and leave the bathroom instead of responding to the other women – possibly her sister-in-law’s.  

The second woman spoke. “She makes me want to throw up. I don’t know what John was thinking marrying her.”

“She makes John weak if you ask me,” the first woman said. “John is nothing like Michael. He has no ambition. If she wasn’t around, John would be more focused on business and less on religion. That’s why Michael and I make such a good team. We both have an ambition.”

The other woman laughed. “That’s right. The ambition to make money and lots of it. Who cares where John and Beatrice spend their money. All I care about is that that woman is out of the picture.”

“Exactly.”

The door opened again and the click of heels signaled the two women had left. Gladwynn let out a long breath and relaxed.

So two of the Thornton women were very glad that Samantha was out of the picture. Their conversation had also confirmed that Samantha had been – or claimed to be – Derek’s daughter.

She couldn’t help wonder if one of the women had murdered Samantha? Or maybe they’d murdered her together. Or hired someone.

She left the bathroom a few minutes later, deep in thought, looking at the floor instead of where she was going.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she slammed hard into another person. When she looked up her gaze met a pair of sharp blue eyes. It didn’t seem it could be possible that she had, once again, not been looking where she was going and slammed right into Luke Callahan, but she had. The same thing had happened several months ago outside of the Covenant Church kitchen shortly after she’d met him.

Luke placed his hands on her upper arms to steady her and grinned. “This seems to be a regular thing with us, doesn’t it? Bumping into each other.”

Warmth spread across her cheeks. “Look like it. I’m sorry I was –”

“Deep in thought it looked like.”

She immediately registered that he was clean shaven again and donning his more formal attire, unlike the day at his house. He was wearing a light gray suit coat, unbuttoned, with a light blue dress shirt and black tie. She couldn’t help taking it all in as she took a step back, trying not to admire how well he cleaned up. This was how she was used to seeing him every Sunday and for the few lunches he’d attended with her and Lucinda after church.

He dropped his hands from her arms and as he did so, she caught sight of half a missing button near the edge of the suit coat sleeve. A lump formed in her throat as she briefly studied the other buttons of the coat, realizing they were the same style of the button she’d found in Samantha’s carpet.

A cold chill rushed through her and she wrapped her arms around herself.

“Yes,” she said, her voice sounding strange and high pitched to her. “I was deep in thought. Again, I apologize.”

“It’s fine. You okay? You went a little pale there. Can I walk you to the fellowship hall for the dinner?”

“No, that’s okay.” She looked down, keeping her gaze focused on the tips of her shoes. “I’m not going to the dinner. I’m going back to work.”

“You have the weekend shift then?”

“Hmm?” Her mind raced and she struggled to focus on what he was saying. “Oh. No. I don’t usually work weekends. I guess I forgot it was Saturday. I actually have to rehearse for a play I’m in.”

He grinned and folded his arms over his chest, giving her even more of a view of the half button on the cuff of the coat. “You? In a play? I didn’t peg you as the theater type. Which play?”

She wanted to turn and run to her car to try to make sense of what she was seeing, tell herself there was no way Luke’s missing button was the same button in an evidence bag at the state police barracks. “Anne of Green Gables. The residents at Willowbrook roped me into playing Diana.”

His smile faded briefly, so briefly Gladwynn almost didn’t catch it. “Oh, of course. Summer is playing Anne. She did tell me that. I should have thought that’s the play you’d be in.”

Of course Summer told you because of course, according to Summer, you spend so much time together. How could you forget? She wanted to say all of that but instead she said, “There’s Grandma. I’d better catch up with her. She’s probably looking for me.” She stepped around him, ducking her head. She glanced over her shoulder, knowing she didn’t need to offer more explanation but doing so anyhow. “We came together so I need to ride back with her.”

“Okay then. See you Sunday?”

She tried to answer but her voice seemed stuck somehow. She merely nodded then quickly turned away, making her way through the crowd of people to Lucinda.

“There you are. I’m headed over to the fellowship hall. Are you coming?”

She shook her head slowly and laid a hand on her stomach. “You know, I don’t think that smoothie you made for me this morning is agreeing with me. I think I’ll head back to the house.”

Her stomach really was upset, but she knew it wasn’t the smoothie. She hated lying, but she couldn’t tell her grandmother that their pastor might be involved in a crime.

Concern immediately furrowed Lucinda’s brow. “Oh dear.” She dug into her purse and pulled out the car keys. “Well, here, take the car back. Doris will drive me home. There are some antacids in the medicine cabinet in the second bathroom upstairs.” She patted Gladwynn’s back. “Are you sure that’s all that’s bothering you? You’re very pale. Maybe I should drive you.”

Gladwynn took the keys. “No. I’m fine. You go visit with your friends. You all need each other right now.”

Lucinda gave her a quick hug and cast her a look that said she didn’t believe Gladwynn and they would talk about it later.

In the car, trying to remember how to drive such a big beast of a vehicle, Gladwynn’s throat tightened and tears stung her eyes.

Why had she found a button belonging to Luke in Samantha’s bedroom? Surely there was a simple explanation. Her imagination was running wild, though.

Had Luke and Samantha been having an affair of some kind? That idea was much easier for her to accept than the other possibility, which she didn’t want to think about at all.

She backed out of the parking space and noticed Luke’s bright red pickup parked near the front of the church. Thinking back to that day at his house, at the beautiful cottage, the flowers, the animals, and the way he’d told her to be careful getting involved in this case, her mind raced with panicked thoughts of the worst possible reason for his button being in Samantha’s condo. Could Luke really have murdered Samantha? And if so, why? None of it made sense and the mere thought of it made her feel like she might throw up.

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Weekend Traffic Jam Reboot for November 2

Welcome to another week of Weekend Traffic Jam Reboot, which I co-host with Marsha in the Middle and Melynda from Scratch Made Food For Hungry People.
This week has been a fairly relaxed but fun one for my family. Yesterday we went on a family field trip to a reptile zoo about an hour from us. My daughter absolutely loves reptiles. She watches a YouTube show called Snake Discovery about snakes and has even been trying to convince me to let her get a snake.

That isn’t going to happen because my husband is deathly afraid of snakes. He’s like Indian Jones in that room saying, “Snakes! Why did it have to be snakes?!”

I’ll write more about our trip to the reptile zoo in my Saturday Afternoon Chat.

For now, let’s get on to the post with the most clicks for this week. It was:

A Little Vignette by Thrifting Wonderland https://thriftingwonderland.com/2023/10/27/a-little-vignette/

And a couple of my favorites from the links this week:

Share Four Somethings from Lisa’s Notes: https://lisanotes.com/share-four-somethings-october-2023/

Handmade Fall Cards by Amy’s Creative Pursuits: https://www.amyscreativepursuits.com/2023/10/handmade-fall-cards.html

The Challenge to Climb by Pam Ecrement: https://pamecrement.com/2023/10/27/the-challenge-to-climb-2/

Now it is time for all you bloggers to leave your links for this week’s Weekend Traffic Jam Reboot. Your posts can be on any topic, from fashion to design to memories to what you did this past week. All we ask is that you keep it family-friendly.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enterhttps://fresh.inlinkz.com/js/widget/load.js?id=c0efdbe6b4add43dd7ef

Comfy, Cozy Cinema: Little Women (2019)

For October and November, Erin from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs and I will be watching cozy or comfy movies, and some of them will have a little mystery, creepiness, or adventure added in.

This week Erin chose the 2019 version of Little Women. This movie is full of beautiful cinematography but it really isn’t my favorite version of this story, which as most of you know is based on the book of the same name by Louisa May Alcott.

Before I get into this, I want to explain that when I say it isn’t my favorite version of the story, I don’t mean that I do not like it. I did not like it at all the first time I watched it, but I watched it again and I see what the director (Greta Gerwig) was doing. I simply did not like it as much as others I’ve watched from the standpoint of how it relates to the novel. It is a very good movie when not compared to the source. I don’t know if that makes sense at all, but just know as you read on that I believe it’s a good movie.

I mean, this is the seventh version of this story on either the small or the big screen so the director and screenplay writer had to do something different. This something different was weaving the story of Jo March and her sisters and parents in and out of the present, which is actually the end of the book and other movies.

That’s what I didn’t like about this movie, but let me explain first a bit about Little Women Most of my readers might know that Little Women is the story of Jo March and her sisters Amy, Meg and Beth, as well as their mother Marmie and the young man Theodore (Teddy) Laurence (Laurie) who lives next door with his wealthy uncle. Jo is a writer and based on Louisa May Alcott herself. The other characters are based on her family.

Jo is a bit tomboyish and doesn’t really like to be “ladylike.” Her sisters Meg and Amy are more like young women were “supposed to be” back then (which is the 1860s, during the Civil War). Meg, the oldest, is studious and responsible. Amy is a bit of a brat in most movies, but she’s young and simply learning. Jo is often dramatic and a bit serious. Beth is the meek and quiet child who also becomes the sickly child later on.

The girls’ father is in the Civil War. Their mother cares about everyone and sacrifices a lot for the poor and her family.

Jo wants to become a novelist but her family faces many struggles, which eventually leads her to selling her stories to newspapers to help them earn money. That’s where this story begins. Since I am a traditionalist in some ways, I wanted the story to be told like it is in the other movies (I’m reading the book for the first time starting this week so I can’t say for sure how the book is written) – chronologically. I wanted to build up to the big moments, slowly learning about each character.

But that isn’t how this movie does it and that’s okay. It is a totally different way to tell the story and it is an interesting way but for me, the story seems disjointed and out of order.

With the drama of the ending of the story being shown in the beginning, I felt like the viewer had no time to get to know the characters and even know why Amy was upset at Laurie or why either of them are in France. We were just left wondering, “What in the world is going on here?” I didn’t feel attached to the characters because all I knew what Amy was standing in a ballroom yelling at Laurie. Laurie was drunk. Should I care that Laurie is drunk? Is he not usually drunk? What’s the deal?

So I guess in some ways this version of the story pulls the viewer along on a journey to learn why the characters are acting that way. It is a more modern way of doing it and I didn’t like that at first. It grew on me, though.

I do, however, like the actors in the movie, other than Timothy Chalamat as Laurie. I didn’t enjoy him as Laurie.

Saoirse Ronan is very good as Jo and Florence Pugh pretty good as Amy.

Emma Watson was okay as Meg and Eliza Scanlan plays Beth. I didn’t buy Laura Dern as Marmie at all. Like at all. She’s just the least Marmie actor in my mind and didn’t change my mind during her performance. She’s a great actress but I just couldn’t get her in my mind as Marmie.

I also could not get Meryl Streep in my mind as Aunt March. It was just like watching Meryl be Meryl. Of course, this is only because my brain is tainted with the other versions. Neither actress is bad in their roles, just not the characters from the book to me – and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. They made the roles their own.

This version is the third version of this story I have watched. I have watched the 1994 version with Kirsten Dunst, Winona Ryder, Christian Bale, Susan Sarandon (who I also didn’t see as a good Marmie), Claire Daines, and Trina Alverado.

If you’ve seen that version, then you remember the most beautiful scene with Claire Daines when Beth is (spoiler alert!) sick and passes away. It’s such a beautiful scene that I get weepy even thinking about it, let alone watching it. I will post it below, along with trailers or clips of all the movies I am mentioning here.

Earlier this year I also watched the 2018 PBS Masterpiece miniseries starring Anne Elwy, Willa Fitzgerald, Katherine Newton, Emily Watson, Angela Lansbury, and Michael Gabon.

The PBS version is very close to the book, I’d imagine, and the way the story is told is like watching the book come to life. The actors perfectly play each part as if the parts were written for them instead of them being shoved into the part to make it fit, which I felt happened with casting in some cases for the other two versions I’m mentioning here.

We are talking about the 2019 version, though, so let us get back to that version. The 2019 version feels like it has more activism about the role of women – like it was saying out loud what Alcott implied in the pages of the book. I don’t like when movies are preachy but this felt fairly natural instead of preachy.

From what I read, Gerwig wanted to direct the film when she heard it was being remade (yet again) because she said it had inspired her in her life and her career. She specifically wanted the film to be about, “the ambitions and dreams you have as a little girl and how they get stomped out of you as you grow up.”

The movie is produced and directed by women. The producer was Amy Pascal.

Gerwig wrote the screenplay using Little Women but also personal letters and writings by Alcott and other stories of hers.

One other good thing about the 2019 version is that it has James Norton portraying John Brooks. He is the actor from Grantchester and several other shows and Erin is in love with him. *wink* He is quite dishy and I didn’t mind looking at him for a while.

The 2019 version, like the others, still has a very sweet and downhome quality to it and I really like that as well.

A review in The New York offers a good overview of how this movie was written, produced and directed: “ . . . Gerwig’s “Little Women” is the tale of the birth of an artist—a female artist at a time that’s hostile to women and the telling of stories of women’s lives from women’s point of view.  . . .  her version of “Little Women” is about a free-spirited young woman whose ambitions threaten to detach her from her financially struggling family, and who discovers that her intellectual self-fulfillment and emotional development are inseparable from her devotion to her family.”

This reviewer, Richard Brody, also wasn’t impressed with Ronan’s performance as Jo.

“Ronan becomes a vessel for characters endowed with Gerwig’s creative fire, but not for the fire itself. (It’s unclear whether this is due to the nature of her own art or to its interface with Gerwig’s direction.) As a result, Ronan is not a powerful presence as Jo March: the character, famous for her anger, for her “temper,” comes off as unduly moderate, both inwardly and outwardly—not in conflict with herself, not repressing that rage, but merely claiming one that’s hardly in danger of bursting forth.”

Brody does see her performance as professional and good, though, and I do as well.

Now, which version would I recommend that someone who has never read the book to see? I would recommend the 2018 version if they want one closer to the book itself, but I would recommend all of them if you want a good movie. Just sit down and watch all of them one weekend and have fun doing it. It will be one of the most relaxing weekends you’ve ever had since they all check off the comfy, cozy, and homey boxes.

Erin has some great views on this movie that she shared with me earlier this week so check out her post on her blog here: https://crackercrumblife.com/

If you are interested in watching the rest of our movies with us, here is our remaining schedule:

Tea with The Dames (November 9)

A break for Thanksgiving

And

Sense and Sensibility (November 30th)

1994:

2018, PBS:

A simple man, a simple job. Remembering Sonny Decker

In 1999 I wrote a story for the newspaper I was working for about the barber in the town we now live in. He was my dad’s barber and twelve years later he was the only person my toddler (now my almost 17-year-old) would let cut his hair. The barber, Sonny Decker, passed away several years ago.

This is the article I wrote. The photos are of my son.

Decker’s Barbershop in Dushore is about more than just an inexpensive haircut. It is about a place and a feeling and a simple man who does a simple job in a small town. Most of all, it is about country life and country people. It defines what life should be – relaxed, laid back, friendly, and caring.

In Decker’s Barbershop they talk about the town, the school, the weather, politics, work, hunting, or whatever the topic might be for that day.

“We have solved quite a few problems in here,” Bill Faulkiner, Laporte, says from the barber’s chair. “If we could get paid for all the issues we have discussed we would be rich.”

The topic on one recent afternoon was school closings and school boards. Everyone has an opinion today, except the barber who nods and smiles and keeps cutting Faulkiner’s hair.

The barber’s first name is Andrew but no one here calls him by this given name. The 60-year-old barber is Sonny to all of his customers.

“I’ve been here 31 years,” Decker says. “I can’t even believe it. It doesn’t seem that long at all. I’ve met a lot of interesting people and we’ve talked about a lot of things.”

Residents and customers would tell you business has never waned for Decker, even though he doesn’t own a phone. (“No appointment books here,” he says), and the building where he started his business on Main Street in Dushore was demolished this past year (“I miss the old building and seeing the trucks go by but I have more room here and more window space.”).

Decker says he started his business in May of 1968 after attending the City Barber Institute in Wilkes-Barre. According to Decker, Dushore wasn’t the first place he worked.

“There used to be this man named Guy Miller in Benton, who took young guys in,” Decker says. “I worked as an apprentice there for a while. Soon after that I had to take the state board exam.”

Customers say life seems to slow down and catch up to people both when they walk into Decker’s shop.

“This is where I come to relax,” Faulkiner says. “I work from sunup to sundown so I like to come in here and talk to people. You can get different input from the people who are here.”

On this day, life is catching up to 4-year-old Seth Crane of Dushore. According to Seth’s dad, John Crane, Seth is getting his first haircut. It is a nerve-wracking prospect for the young man, whose head is covered with long blond curls, but Decker knows how to sooth the fears of an apprehensive child.

It is something that he has been doing for 31 years, after all.

“What are you worried about? This is going to be fun,” Decker says. “You’re going to feel so cool with all your hair gone. You won’t sweat anymore and when you’re done, I’ll give you a Mickey Mouse lollipop. Won’t that be nice?”

Seth is skeptical and doubtful and it takes sitting on his dad’s lap to get him to let Decker give him “his first professional haircut.”

Seth is getting what his father will get.

“High and tight, that is how I like it,” John Crane says. “This is the only place you can get a real military haircut.”

“Show me how you turn that on,” Decker says, and lets Seth hold the clippers, in an attempt to stop the tears.

The tears don’t stop until almost all the hair is gone and and Decker has changed the direction of the conversation.

“I’m going to give you a lollipop and then your sisters will be jealous and they’ll want a haircut,” Decker says. “What are your sisters’ names?”

“Samantha and Cathy-Jo,” says Seth, sniffling, but calm.

Decker says the best part of his job is listening to the conversations and meeting new people.

“We have pilots and businessmen and all kinds of people come in here,” Decker says. “You get a real education here.”

Decker’s thoughts are full of memories and his memories are full of people.

“I remember I used to talk to Elmer Robinson from New Albany a lot,” he says. “He was real interesting. He knew a lot. Yep.”

Customers say they’ve learned a lot at Decker’s shop too.

“Hey, Sonny, do you remember when Marty Behrend and Jim Gardner would talk about the old creamery?” John Crane asks. “It was great. They used to talk about how it used to be and tell us stories that would just have our sides splitting.”

Decker nods and smiles as he trims another layer from Faulkiner’s hair.

“I remember when Bill Sick’s brother Leo said to me, ‘Sonny, when I die, I want you to come over and cut my hair for the funeral.’” Decker pauses in mid-cut, and his gaze drifts out the front window. “Of course, I thought he was kidding but boy was I surprised when one morning I got a phone call and they said he had died. That was the first dead person’s hair I cut. After that, the first three people’s hair I cut felt dead. It was weird.”

Decker resumes his cutting. For a brief moment, silence falls over the shop and all that can be heard is the buzz of the clippers.

“You know I believe I am the only male barber in Sullivan County,” Decker says, interrupting the silence with another thought.

And that is what it is all about here at Decker’s shop. Thoughts and stories, memories and moments.

Book review: A New Leash on Life

About the Book

Book: New Leash on Life

Author: Kathleen Y’Barbo

Genre: Christian Fiction / Cozy Mystery

Release Date: October, 2023

How Is a Missing Military Working Dog Related to Two Local Fires?

Snuggle with your trusty hound and settle into a small-town mystery in book 6 of the Gone to the Dogs series.

Air Force veteran Dr. Lane Bishop and Nora Hernandez’s romance has cooled. He is busy working as a researcher at the vet school, and she’s busy with her restaurant and opening an antique shop. What Lane hasn’t told her is his PTSD, which manifests mostly with nightmares, makes him believe he’s damaged goods. But that is about to change when he meets a stray pup that acts a lot like a military working dog.

When a tornado hits Brenham, there is damage in the downtown area and a fire is ignited in Nora’s new store. A Belgian Malinois dog is seen at the fire and later Lane sees him at a wedding venue where an explosion occurs. Not long after, a second explosion rocks Brenham and sends Nora and Lane on a hunt for the person responsible. Will the pair find the guilty party before more damage is done to the city’s landmarks? And will Lane find the words to tell Nora how much he loves her before it’s too late? 

Click here to get your copy!

Review

This is the second book I’ve read in this series and I enjoyed it, especially the romance mixed in with the mystery. This was a to-the-point mystery that wrapped up without a ton of clues but that was okay – the clues weren’t needed to make the story interesting. It was fast paced with a new development in almost every chapter but not so fast paced that it was unrealistic or ridiculous.

I loved the main characters, even though I have not read a cozy mystery where there was a POV from two people before. I don’t know if I really liked the switching back and forth at first but I really loved both characters so it started not to bother me as much.

The supporting cast in this book was also a book to the story.

The plot line of the military dog drew the elements of the mystery together and I was pleased with how that part of the story resolved. The ending was somewhat predictable but I didn’t mind that because it ended how I hoped it would.

Though I felt there were a couple of plot points that didn’t quite come together for me, I still enjoyed the book and would read more in the series. This book came at a good time in my life when I needed a clean and wholesome book to read.

About the Author

Kathleen Y’Barbois a multiple Carol Award and RITA nominee and bestselling author of more than one hundred books with over two million copies of her books in print in the US and abroad. A tenth-generation Texan and certified paralegal, she is a member of the Texas Bar Association Paralegal Division, Texas A&M Association of Former Students and the Texas A&M Women Former Students (Aggie Women), Texas Historical Society, Novelists Inc., and American Christian Fiction Writers. She would also be a member of the Daughters of the American Republic, Daughters of the Republic of Texas and a few others if she would just remember to fill out the paperwork that Great Aunt Mary Beth has sent her more than once.

When she’s not spinning modern day tales about her wacky Southern relatives, Kathleen inserts an ancestor or two into her historical and mystery novels as well. Recent book releases include bestselling The Pirate Bride set in 1700s New Orleans and Galveston, its sequel The Alamo Bride set in 1836 Texas, which feature a few well-placed folks from history and a family tale of adventure on the high seas and on the coast of Texas. She also writes (mostly) relative-free cozy mystery novels for Guideposts Books.

Kathleen and her hero in combat boots husband have their own surprise love story that unfolded on social media a few years back. They make their home just north of Houston, Texas and are the parents and in-laws of a blended family of Texans, Okies, and one very adorable Londoner.

More for Kathleen

You’ve most likely seen military working dogs (MWDs) on television shows or in the news. Maybe you’ve seen police dogs in action or read about them. They’re often fierce looking and always well-trained and intelligent. Along with their handler, the MWD is a brave and not so secret weapon in the military and law enforcement world. And did you know that an MWD always outranks his or her handler? It’s true.

I was very aware of all of this, but I had no idea what happened to these dogs when they were too old or perhaps physically unable to continue in their roles. People retire from their careers, so it makes sense that MWDs would as well.

I first learned about retired MWDs from watching my friend Ronie welcome a gorgeous Belgian Malinois, Vvolt, to her family. Anyone who knew the family or came to know Vvolt through social media fell in love with that dog. With his ears cocked just so and his bigger-than-life personality, I knew I had to write about him someday.

When I was given the opportunity to co-write a cozy mystery series with my dear friend, Janice Thompson, I knew one of those books would have to include an MWD. Because MWDs are used in so many situations, from military police work to bomb sniffing to PTSD care and more—I had to narrow down the choice of what my dog would be doing. I won’t give anything away, but I can tell you that Pal, the fictional Belgian Malinois in NEW LEASH ON LIFE is very good at what he does. He also loves a good Whataburger when his regular kibble isn’t available, but I digress.

When I set out to create the personality for Pal, I looked to what I knew and loved about Vvolt. Big personality, toothy grin, and the ability to run and jump like a champ were all included in my dog’s version of the MWD. And like Vvolt, my MWD develops a strong bond with his handler and the family who welcomes him into their home. Pal is loyal, friendly, and apt to stand between his people and danger at the slightest provocation.

Pal’s person in NEW LEASH ON LIFE is Dr. Lane Bishop, a Texas A&M University research veterinarian and Air Force veteran. Lane deals with nightmares that came out of his military experiences. As you can imagine, this causes an issue or two with Nora Hernandez, the woman Lane adores but has not shared his worries with.

Then along comes Pal, a stray (or is he?) with a habit of disappearing and then turning up at the most unlikely places just when he’s needed. I won’t give away the story, but let’s just say that sometimes it takes an animal to show the humans what needs to be done.

Perhaps all this talk about MWDs has you curious about them. Maybe you’re someone who would love to explore the opportunity to give a retired MWD a second chance. Check the Airforce 37th Training wing’s website for details on how this can be done: https://www.37trw.af.mil/Units/37th-Training-Group/341st-Training-Squadron/Military-Working-Dog-Adoption-Program/ .

NEW LEASH ON LIFE is the story of new starts and second chances, of how God can doesn’t just use humans to achieve His purposes. For this and so many other reasons, the tale of Lane and Nora and Pal is dedicated to the memory of Vvolt and his people.

Well done good and faithful servant.

Blog Stops

Babbling Becky L’s Book Impressions, October 26

Book Reviews From an Avid Reader, October 26

Wishful Endings, October 27

Debbie’s Dusty Deliberations, October 27

Texas Book-aholic, October 28

Karen Baney Reviews, October 28

Locks, Hooks and Books, October 29

Because I said so — and other adventures in Parenting, October 30

Boodock Ramblings, October 30

Lighthouse-Academy, October 31

Truth and Grace Homeschool Academy, October 31

Blogging With Carol, November 1

For Him and My Family, November 1

Holly’s Book Corner, November 2

Mary Hake, November 2

Happily Managing a Household of Boys, November 3

Splashes of Joy, November 4

Pause for Tales, November 4

Tell Tale Book Reviews, November 5

Bigreadersite, November 6

Cover Lover Book Review, November 6

Labor Not in Vain, November 7

Life on Chickadee Lane, November 7

Lily’s Book Reviews, November 8

Giveaway

To celebrate her tour, Kathleen is giving away the grand prize package of a $25 Amazon e-gift card and a copy of the book!!

Be sure to comment on the blog stops for nine extra entries into the giveaway! Click the link below to enter.

https://promosimple.com/ps/28973/new-leash-on-life-celebration-tour-giveaway

Sunday Bookends: Fall weather mixed with summer weather, mood reading, and comfort watching

It’s time for our Sunday morning chat. On Sundays, I ramble about what’s been going on, what the rest of the family and I have been reading and watching, and what I’ve been writing. Some weeks I share what I am listening to.

This week I’m joining up with  Kimba at Caffeinated Reviewer  and Kathyrn at  The Book Date.

What’s Been Occurring

Friday and yesterday were busy for me so I did not have a lot of time to write a Saturday Afternoon Chat post. That means I’ll share a little more here this week about what has been occurring.

Last week’s weather was gorgeous so Little Miss and I spent time outside and on the neighbor’s trampoline part of it.

I took photographs of the leaves while we were up by the trampoline, especially on Friday when Little Miss had a couple of her friends over.

I had never really looked to see where the little woods behind our outbuilding and our neighbor’s shed go but on Friday I could see that it leads to the backyards of the houses on another street. The woods are a little deeper further to the left and even further out they are deeper still.

I would guess the deer that show up in our backyard come from the deeper woods that lead out of town. Our one neighbor feeds the deer, which is actually illegal, and I’ve considered calling the Game Commission on him several times but two weeks ago his wife died and now I can’t bring myself to do it.

After talking to him one day this week I learned she’s been sick for a while now after a freak accident two years ago when she fell and hit her head. I wonder if he wanted the deer to come down so she could see them from the kitchen window. I get annoyed with the deer being in our yard and the yards of my neighbors because with White-Tailed Deer in Pennsylvania come deer ticks. I have two friends who died from complications from untreated Lyme, some family friends who were hit hard by it (one still deals with chronic Lyme), and my dad dealt with Lyme several years ago and is still suffering from the effects of it.

I will pray we can keep ourselves safe from the ticks so my neighbor can still see the deer while he mourns his wife. My neighbor is elderly and sometimes complains about everything when I talk to him, including the neighbors I am close to. Because he said some disparaging things about my neighbors, who have become friends, I am never anxious to talk to him but I took a container of homemade chicken noodle soup to him on Wednesday night anyhow. He was very appreciative, even as he tried to launch into a series of complaints about a variety of things.

Yesterday he returned the container with a post-it note on top.

“God bless you. Thank you.” And he signed his name.

It melted my heart.

I think he needed that act of kindness right now whether he’s always been kind or not himself.

So, as another act of kindness, I’m going to try to tolerate the deer in our backyards and hope they don’t cause an accident on the street and treat the pets with tick medicine and us with tick spray.

Little Miss and her friends had a lot of fun playing with the leaves and jumping on the trampoline Friday. I had fun having what felt like a real autumn experience. It was a nice warm day and I didn’t have the weird symptoms I sometimes have when the weather is cold and the pressure is low.

The girls were able to see each other again last night when we went trick-or-treating with them in their town, which is about a 40-minute drive from us. There was a Trunk-or-Treat and then a costume competition that I attended, but after that The Husband walked with Little Miss and her friends and parents around town and I sat in the car and enjoyed some coveted reading time.

Today I am going to see my parents for the afternoon. It is supposed to rain all day and the temperature will be dropping, which makes me sad because on Wednesday I am supposed to take Little Miss to a reptile zoo an hour from us. She absolutely loves reptiles and I had no idea this place was so big so I am excited to take her. It is a trip with the library. I do see we might get some – I can’t even say the word – that wet, cold, white stuff that day so we will see how it goes. I hope the trip isn’t canceled.

What I/we’ve been Reading

I did not have as much time to read this past week as I had hoped. I was editing and revising Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage so it can be edited and proofread or spending time outside much of the week.

That is why the books I am reading are the books I was reading the week before. It also doesn’t help that I am a mood reader. I may have started a book and be enjoying it but there are some days when a book simply doesn’t fit my mood. For example, I am reading one book that I like very much but the subject matter can be heavy. There is a boy who saw his mother murdered and is in foster care, a woman who used to be a prostitute, and a man whose wife was murdered. The writing in the book is amazing but there are times I don’t feel I’m emotionally stable to read the book. The writer is very good so I feel like I’m living the book and there are days I don’t want to live that and then go to bed thinking about it.

Those are the days I am glad to be able to read books with my 9-year-old, like The Black Stallion which we started last week.

Have you ever read the book?

I never have but I have seen the movie. Several times. I have always loved it.

So far, I am really enjoying the book, though we are at the part on the island and that can be a bit tedious. I am looking forward to when they get rescued. The problem is, my daughter is also a mood reader so the nights I am in the mood to read to her from one book, she wants something completely different. When she feels insecure or has overheard something scary from the news, she wants to go to her comfort reads – much like I do. This past week those comfort reads were Paddington and Fortunately the Milk by Neil Gaiman. Actually, we listen to Fortunately the Milk usually. Sometimes she reads to me from the book and it is so entertaining to hear her trying to do the British accents. I always do the accents of the characters in the books so she feels like she has to as well but I have been reminding her that her mother is an old lady whose practiced accents a long time. She’s just starting so she’ll get better at it as she grows.

Back to my reading, I’ve been bouncing between three books but this week I am focusing on one, finishing it and then the next one.

I had been bouncing between Walls Crumbling by Alicia Gilliam, Polly by Naomi Musch, and When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit by Judith Kerr.

This week I plan to finish Polly, then finish When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit and then finish Walls Crumbling.

I also want to finish The Red Badge of Courage, which I am listening to with my son, and Death at the Seaside, which I have also been listening to. I have about 40 minutes in both the books and I am certain I’ll be doing dishes this week so I’ll have time to listen.

I looked at the books I said I wanted to read this autumn last week and would love to a couple more books from that list by mid-November. Then I want to start my winter list, which will include Little Women. I hope to stretch that book out into the long, dark months that come with winter in Pennsylvania. It will be my first time reading it.

What We watched/are Watching

Last week I watched Rebecca for the Comfy, Cozy Cinema and then the rest of the week I really did not watch a lot other than Newhart. The Husband and I did watch episodes of old British sitcoms, The Manor Born and Yes, Minister.

This week I hope to watch some Miss Scarlet and The Duke and maybe Death in Paradise, which I have not watched in a long time. I have not seen any of the episodes with the latest detective.

What I’m Writing

As I mentioned above, I am finishing Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage and will have that out to be edited by Wednesday. I plan to continue writing Cassie and hope to finish it by the end of the month or mid-December since it is a smaller book.

This week on the blog I shared:

Fiction Friday: Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage Chapter 10 and Chapter 11 Weekend Traffic Jam Reboot: Autumn colors and vibes Comfy, Cozy Cinema: Rebecca (1940) The Blessing in Hebrew

What I’m Listening To

Needtobreathe has a new album out so I will be listening to that all week, I am sure.

Here is one of the latest songs:

Photos from Last Week

As I mentioned above, I took a lot of photos of autumn leaves last week.

I’ll share some of those photos here today and the rest in a separate post later in the week.

Now it’s your turn. What have you been doing, watching, reading, listening to or writing? Let me know in the comments or leave a blog post link if you also write a weekly update like this.

Fiction Friday: Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage Chapter 10 and Chapter 11

As always, this is a work in progress and there could be (will be) typos, plot holes, and other errors but those will be fixed before the book is published a couple of months from now.

If you want to read the first book in the series, you can find it on Amazon HERE.

If you don’t want to read this story in chapters on a blog and would rather read the fully-finished and polished version, you can pre-order it HERE.

If you want to learn more about my other books you can find links to them HERE

Chapter 10

The drive to Laddsburg was scenic, relaxing and definitely breathtaking. The road curved up and down and then around several wooded areas before opening out into a valley featuring wide open fields where old-fashioned farm tractors sat by large bales of hay and cows wandered. On the hill above the Valley was a white church building against a brilliantly blue, cloudless sky.

Gladwynn was so distracted by the church she almost missed the turn off Templeton Road that her grandmother had told her about. She hadn’t even gone half a mile when an old-fashioned stone wall covered in vines and beautiful white and light purple flowers caught her attention.

Her breath caught as a cobblestone cottage surrounded by wildflowers came into view beyond the wall. A dirt driveway passed between stone wall, leading to a more modern looking garage separate from the cottage.

Her grandmother was right. The cottage was beautiful. Like something out of a Thomas Kinkade painting. She turned into the driveway slowly, taking in the beautifully finished wooden front porch, a slight departure from the more vintage feel of the rest of the cottage. Morning glory stretched up outside the red front door, the hedgerow had been shaped into the most pleasing square shape, and lavender sprouted up in the flower beds under the front windows.

She shut the car off and simply sat for a few moments, admiring the dark green hillside behind the cottage, watching a herd of Jersey cows grazing in the meadow at the lower end of it, and smelling freshly cut hay. Her gaze dropped to a small barn or stable behind the garage. It and a pasture were surrounded by a white fence. Luke was walking from the open door, his appearance startling her.

Gone were the neat khakis and white dress shirt she was used to seeing him in. He was wearing a stained gray t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and brown heavy work boots. Dark brown dirt was smeared on one cheek and light blond whiskers dotted his jawline. He hadn’t seen her yet, he was looking at the ground as he walked, his hand on the back of his neck, a frown creasing his brow.

She knew she couldn’t back out without him seeing her. Would he be bothered that she was seeing him unpolished, so to speak? She reached for the casserole dish as he reached the end of the gravel area near the garage and started to turn toward the house.

He must have caught the movement of her opening the car door out of the corner of his eye because he looked up quickly, a surprised expression on his face that quickly morphed into a smile.

“Oh hallo,” he said as she stepped out of the car. “I didn’t know I had a visitor.”

She stepped forward and held the casserole dish out toward him as he turned to face her more directly. “Grandma asked me to drop this off to you.”

Sweat glistened on his forehead as he walked toward her and she briefly wondered how smelly he might be after clearly working in his barn. When he came closer, though, she caught a whiff of fresh hay, vanilla and orange and nothing else.

He reached for the dish. “Ah, there’s my dish that your kleptomaniac grandmother stole.” He winked. “She didn’t need to rush getting it back. I told her that she could bring it to church Sunday instead.”

Instead she made me drive it out here so we would be forced to talk to each other, Gladwynn thought as he took the dish. She probably took the dish on purpose in the first place.

“Well, you know Grandma. When she wants something done, she wants it done now.”

Luke laughed, small lines crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes. “Aye, that’s true, but she also gets a lot done that needs to be done. Without her, the church and community as a whole would surely be lost.”

Gladwynn tipped her head in agreement. “Our family would be as well.” She gestured to the cottage and barn. “Your home is gorgeous.”

“Thank you. It’s a bit of Northern Ireland for me in Pennsylvania. This area already feels like home but this cottage and the land around it makes it feel even more like home.”

A chicken clucked and she looked down to see the light brown bird pecking at her shoes. Luke waved at the chicken. “Hey, Helen, get lost. Those are shoes, not food.”

An amused smile tugged at her mouth. “Helen? You named your chicken Helen?”

He grinned. “Sure did. Her feathers are the same color of my sixth-grade teacher’s hair and her name was Helen. So, therefore, this chicken is Helen.”

“Do you name all of your chickens?”

“Of course, I do. It’s the polite thing to do. I can’t very well say, hey chick number ten, move over, I need to get your eggs. Instead I can say, ‘Beatrice, move aside, love. I’d like to take your eggs for my breakfast.’”

She let out a laugh at the same moment a pig snorted from somewhere to the left. “You have pigs too?”

“I certainly do.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the house. “Let me go put this dish inside and I’ll introduce you to Herbert.”

He returned a few moments later and held his hand out toward the barn. “Right this way.”

She fell in step with him and they walked toward the barn, taking a stone sidewalk that looked hand built around the garage to get there.

She twirled her keys on her finger as she walked. “I hope this question doesn’t come off as nosey or rude, but you built all this on a pastor’s salary?”

He laughed as he opened the front gate leading to the small barn, which now that she was closer could see had recently been freshly painted red and featured an American flag hanging on the side.

 “No, actually. I built it on the inheritance by uncle left me in his will. It was small but enough to help me truly make Marson County my home.”

A loud snort turned her attention to a large brown and white pig waddling toward her across a mud-covered pasture. Or was it a hog? She wasn’t sure.

“There he is,” Luke declared. “Herbert The Pig himself.”

The beast smelled awful but something about his face was endearing and she couldn’t help stooping down, reaching her hand in through the fence, and scratching his rough head.

From her stooped position she could see a small chicken coup on the other side of the pasture. “You’re running a real farm here, it looks like.” She stood and couldn’t miss the amused smile on his face. “Thinking of stepping out of the pulpit and into the manure full time?”

He laughed loudly and once again she was struck with what a pleasant, masculine sound it was. “Not at all. The animals are simply my friends, my hobby, and sometimes my lunch.”

Her eyes narrowed and then she glanced back at the pig. “But not Herbert, right?”

He reached over the fence and patted Herbert’s large rump. “Definitely Herbert. Sad to say, he’ll be on my breakfast plate soon too. Parts of him anyhow.”

A small gasp came from her. “You’re going to butcher him?”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

“I am indeed.” His blues eyes twinkled, matching the smile he was wearing as he leaned one arm on top of the fence post. “My mouth waters just thinking about it.”

Now she was even more horrified. “Luke Callahan! That’s just awful. You treat this little pig like your friend today and tomorrow you’re just going to slaughter him?”

“No, not tomorrow. He’s not fat enough yet. Probably next spring.” He paused and studied her briefly before asking. “What are you some kind of vegetarian?” Then he laughed. “You don’t have to answer that, I know you’re not a vegetarian. I saw you put away at least three hamburgers at the church picnic a couple of weeks ago.

Her cheeks blazed hot. It sounded like he was suggesting she was as much of a pig as Herbert at this point. “No, I’m not a vegetarian but it’s different when you actually see what you’re eating while it’s still alive.” She rubbed the hog’s head as it grunted.

He sighed. “You’re a weird one, Gladwynn Grant.”

She cleared her throat and stopped petting Herbert. “And with that, I have to get to work.”

She turned and began to walk toward her car, stopping when she felt a hand on her elbow. She glanced up and Luke’s expression was serious. “Now. Now. Don’t be offended. I didn’t mean that you were a pig or anything. Just that you definitely eat meat.”

She nodded. “I definitely do, but I hope you don’t offer any of Herbert to me in the future because I would be horrified.”

He laid a hand on his chest. “On my honor, I will not feed you a bit of Herbert at any time – not even his tasty, melt-in-your mouth shanks I plan to cook one lovely Sunday afternoon in the spring.”

She made a face. The entire conversation, coupled with the sight of him looking so rugged, was shattering her perception of Pastor Luke Callahan and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

In turns out that Luke wasn’t always perfectly dressed or wearing a dazzling, clean-shaven smile. He didn’t only wear dress shirts and khakis after all. And he also possessed a slightly dark and very edgy sense of humor. The realization that he was different than what she’d pegged him to be made her feel a little woozy.

He fell in step with her on the way back to her car.

Her next question fell out before she’d really had time to think it through. “I was just wondering — how well did you know Samantha Mors?”

He stopped walking and looked at her with wide eyes. “That’s an out of the blue question. I guess it’s an occupational hazard, eh?”

She tipped her head down slightly and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth briefly, her cheeks warm again. “Yeah, I guess it is. Sorry.”

He laughed softly. “It’s okay.” He rubbed his chin. “I didn’t know her super well, to be honest. She attended church a few times and we talked a few times. She mentioned once that she had lived in Chicago at one time and I attended seminary near there so we talked about that.”

“Did she ever mention anyone who might want to hurt her?”

He shook his head. “Not directly no, but I don’t feel it would be right to share anything specific from our private conversations. It would feel to like a breach of her privacy.”

“The privacy of a dead woman?”

“Yeah. As weird as it sounds, I still feel I should respect her, even in death, and not share her secrets.”

“So, she told you secrets?”

He tipped his face away and shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Gladwynn, you have indeed learned the art of rewording questions to try to convince your subject to share.” The smile faded and a more serious expression crossed his face. “It won’t work on me, though. The conversations between Samantha and I were private conversation between a pastor and someone who came to him for prayer. I don’t feel comfortable sharing the details with anyone at this time.”

“What about the police?”

“What about them?”

“Would you share with them?”

“They’d have to have a very compelling reason for me to share with them.”

“A woman is dead. Isn’t that reason enough?”

“I won’t know until I know what they need to know and last I looked you weren’t the police.” The smile had slowly returned, a sight she welcomed since the last few minutes had introduced a tension between them that she wasn’t used to or fond of.

She cleared her throat and pulled her gaze from the lopsided smile that was increasing her heart rate. “All I am saying is that if you have information that could help the investigation into who killed Samantha Mors don’t you feel that you have a moral obligation to share that information?”

He folded his arms across his chest, widening his stance, the smile remaining in place. “I will share the information if I am asked to do so but at this point, I have not been asked to do so.” He rocked back on his heels for a brief moment. “Gladwynn, sometimes I think you’re just a bit too curious for your own good. I thought your job was to cover news stories, not investigate crimes.”

Defensive irritation bristled through her. “Part of the job of a reporter is to also investigate when it is needed.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you covering this story? It seems to me it would be a conflict if you were, since I understand you discovered her body.”

“I didn’t. Doris did, but I was there, yes, and, no, I am not covering the story, but—”

He held his arms out to his side and shrugged. “Then you don’t need to investigate, do you? I worry about you, Gladwynn. One day you’re going to ask the wrong person the wrong question and get yourself in trouble.”

She raised an eyebrow, her palms dampening with sweat. “Is that a threat, Luke Callahan?”

Luke threw his head back and let out a loud laugh, breaking through some of the tension. “A threat? Really? You’ve been reading too many Agatha Christie novels, little lady.” He tipped his head down and looked at her, the smile fading slightly as he took a step toward her. “No. It was not a threat. It was concern being expressed by not only your pastor but by someone who cares deeply for you and doesn’t want to see harm come to you.”

Gladwynn swallowed hard, unable to pull her gaze from his for a few seconds before her phone began ringing from the car. She took a step back toward the driver’s side of the car. “I should get this. It might be my boss asking where I am.”

He slid his hands in his jean pockets. “You better get going then. I appreciate your visit, though. No matter how brief.”

She opened the door, the phone still ringing.  “Thank you again for the tour of your lovely property.”

“You’re welcome. Any time. See you in church, Sunday?”

“Of course.” She hoped the tension she felt wasn’t evident in her tone, but she was sure it was. Sliding behind the steering wheel she slid her sunglasses on and started the car, wishing the top was up so she could let her calm expression fade away as she backed out of the driveway. The phone had stopped ringing but she could see from the caller ID that it was Tanner who had called.

She smiled again at the end of the driveway and waved as she started down the dirt road, but as soon as Luke was out of view, a frown creased her eyebrow and turned her mouth downward.

Why had he been so odd about sharing what he and Samantha had talked about? He’d said that he hadn’t known her well but then said she’d shared secrets with him.

Plus there was that weirdness at the end of their conversation. How should she interpret him saying he cared deeply for her? Did he care for her as a friend or more? And if he cared deeply for her, why wouldn’t he tell her what he and Samantha had spoken about?

Chapter 11

She called Tanner once she was in better cell service, which was when she was almost back to town.

“Do you have something you’re supposed to be dropping off to me?” he asked without returning her greeting.

His voicemail had been terse, asking only for her to call him. She’d had a feeling she was in trouble then. Now she knew she was.

“Do I?”

“Your grandmother called me an hour ago and said you had a letter for me. She said you would fill me in but that it was from Samantha Mors’ apartment.”

Gladwynn rolled her eyes. She’d told Lucinda she’d handle it, but clearly Lucinda felt she needed an extra push.

He continued, his voice dripping with passive aggressiveness. “I’m guessing you were intending to stop by and give me the letter but were busy with work and simply forgot.”

“Yes, actually, I have been very busy.”

“I’d like to have the letter, please. I can either swing by your office and pick it up or you can drop it off to me.”

She turned the car onto the main road and sighed. “I have a staff meeting that I am late for and a couple of stories to write and then I’m heading home for dinner. I’ll swing by and drop it off on my way back from dinner, if that works for you.”

“You do understand that withholding evidence from the police during an investigation is a crime, correct?”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a few moments. “Yes, but I didn’t mean to withhold it. I just wanted to read it and see if it would offer any clues to who might have killed Samantha. I knew if I took it to you that you’d say Grandma and I were snooping.”

“Please tell me that you did not drag your grandmother into your amateur sleuthing activities.”

“I didn’t do anything. We were simply looking for scripts in Samantha’s apartment. Finding the letter was an accident. You’re right, though, I should have taken it to you as soon as I read it.”

“No, you should have brought it to me as soon as you found it. You shouldn’t have been reading anything you found there.”

Gladwynn’s muscles tensed at his scolding tone. “And you or the other detectives should have found it when you searched the apartment, but here we are.”

“You are interfering in an investigation and now you’re calling into question the competence of the state police. That’s just great. You’re really batting zero right now, Gladwynn. I don’t care if you have a staff meeting or dinner to go to. You’ll bring me that letter now or I’ll show up at your office in a police cruiser with all the lights on and the siren blaring and take it from you.”

As much as his tone grated on her, she knew he was right. She was interfering in a police investigation and she had been wrong not to give him the letter as soon as she found it, even if he had told her she was a snoop and scolded her in front of his co-worker. “I’ll call my boss and tell him I need to stop at the barracks and will be late to my meeting.”

“See that you do.”

She hung up quickly and called Liam as she turned on the road to head toward the barracks.

The state police barracks was located at a busy intersection outside of town. Of course, by Brookstone standards busy meant a stoplight, a McDonalds, and a mini-strip mall with a Dollar General, a chain drugstore (they seemed to rotate every few years) and a diner. Gladwynn hadn’t been inside the barracks yet since moving there and she was curious to see what it looked like inside.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t see much other than the four brick walls of the lobby and a bullet proof see-through glass window with a small opening to her right. In front of her was a thick metal door, clearly enhanced with a heavy duty, silver lock with a keypad. In the center of the door was a small window that she imagined was one of those one-sided windows so they could look out but whoever was in the lobby couldn’t look in.

“Can I help you?”

A gruff female voice startled her and she noticed that a woman had appeared at the larger window with the counter. The woman had activated a speaker with a push of a button. Gladwynn could also faintly hear voices in the background and the click of computer keys.

“Yes, I’m here to see Detective Kinney.”

She was proud she hadn’t called him by his first name or accidentally assigned him the title of officer, like she had when she’d first started her job. The state police employed troopers, not officers, and now Tanner wasn’t even a trooper. He was a detective and she had to remember this change as well.

“Can I tell him who is here?”

The woman seemed to be a civilian, dressed in a white blouse and gray skirt. She was thin with a face that might have been pleasant if it wasn’t for the bored expression she wore and the way her graying blond hair was pulled firmly back from her long face in a tight bun. Her matronly look was topped off with a pair of small, round, silver wire-rimmed glasses. Gladwynn was certain she’d seen this same woman in every movie featuring a stern school principal as the villain.

“Gladwynn Grant. He’s expecting me.”

The woman’s expression didn’t change as she touched a hand to the speaker and all went silent on Gladwynn’s end. The woman picked up a phone said something into it, hung up and touched the button on the counter again. “He’ll be here in a moment.”

The woman turned slowly and sat at a cluttered desk with a computer, a stained coffee mug and a pile of papers. Gladwynn tapped her hand against her hip as she waited, wishing they had music in the lobby instead of the sterile silence inside a sterile brick room with two black chairs and a wall covered with legal warnings, a poster of America’s Most Wanted, and flyers showing parents how to install car seats.

Several minutes passed and she finally decided to sit in one of the chairs, trying not to think of how many other people had sat there and all the germs that might be on the leather seat or the metal armrests.

After almost ten minutes, a sharp click and the groan of the metal door signaled someone was coming into the lobby. That someone was Tanner wearing a dress shirt, a pair of gray dress pants, and a scowl.

He held out his hand, which she noticed was covered in a white rubber glove. “Letter?”

The door clanked closed behind him.

Gladwynn stood and hooked her purse strap over her shoulder. “No, ‘hello Miss Grant?’ Good evening? How are you today?’”

“No. You’re holding on to evidence in a criminal investigation. Now is not the time for polite and inane banter.”

She sighed and reached into her purse, pulling out the letter, which she had made a copy of in the office earlier in the day.

He snatched it from her hand. “Anything else you’re withholding?”

She wanted to say ‘no’ but she’d also been raised to be honest so she dug into the small inner pocket of the purse and found the half of the button. She laid it in the palm of his outstretched hand.

“Where did you find this?”

“In the carpet under the edge of Samantha’s bed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You were searching her room? After we’d already been there?”

“No, I was not. My foot kicked it out of the bristles of the rug, or whatever they are called, and I picked it up. I thought it might have broken off the clothes or uniforms of one of your team or even the EMTs.”

“The fabric of the rug you mean?”

“The fabric, the bristles. Whatever.”

Tanner slid the button in his pocket. “You realize that you have contaminated the crime scene by removing items from it, correct? You also put your fingerprints all over these items, making it almost impossible for us to pick fingerprints up off of them.”

“I believe the scene was released by your department, if I’m not mistaken. Plus, can you even pick fingerprints off of paper?”

“If you were in law enforcement you would know that most paper has a fairly porous surface and therefore, we would have been able to pick fingerprints up off of it. Now all we’ll be able to pick up is your fingerprints.”

“And maybe Samantha’s, but I doubt there would have been any others on there anyhow because it was shoved up in the top of the drawer. I don’t even think the murderer knew it was there.”

Tanner closed his eyes briefly and a muscle jumped in his smooth-shaven, square jaw, a movement that fascinated Gladwynn. A small growl came from his throat. “You’re welcome to leave now that you’ve handed over the letter. In the future don’t meddle in our investigation or take evidence. If you find something you believe would be pertinent to our investigation then please contact us and we will come to you, not the other way around.”

Gladwynn tried not to smile at his use of the word pertinent. Why didn’t he just use the word important instead? She resisted the overwhelming urge to give him a salute as he turned to go back through the metal door.

“You’re welcome,” she said instead.

He glanced at her as he punched in numbers on the keypad, the letter in his other hand. “I will not be saying ‘thank you’ but you’re welcome to have a nice evening.”

“Do you have a cause of death for Samantha yet?”

He held the door open and looked at her with an expression that said he was five seconds from blowing his top, but was trying really hard not to. “You cannot be serious right now.”

She smiled and tipped her head to one side. “Just thought I’d ask. In case you were feeling generous with information.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “I’m not.”

The door slammed loudly behind him and she took that as her cue to leave. She wouldn’t find out any more information from Detective Tanner Kinney today.

***

After leaving the barracks, attending the staff meeting, and writing a couple of stories, Gladwynn decided she should head home for dinner with her father, even though she hadn’t planned to and didn’t really want to talk to him. It didn’t seem right, though, for him to be there alone on his first night visiting.

Her father’s BMW was parked in the driveway when Gladwynn arrived. William Grant stepped out of the driver’s side as she placed her car into park. Always dressed as if he was on his way to an important meeting, he wore a pair of square-shaped gold rimmed glasses, gray dress pants, black dress shoes, a button-up white dress shirt and a red tie. He’d at least taken his suit coat off for the four-hour drive. How he hadn’t taken his tie off or at least loosened it was beyond her.

She hadn’t seen him in person since moving to Brookstone nine months earlier. His brown hair was showing even more specks of gray along the hairline and though he’d always been tall and lanky, he seemed even thinner, especially in the face.

He was clean-shaven, as always, and wore a neutral expression as he raised a hand in greeting and then stepped to the trunk of the car and opened it.

“Did you just get here?” she asked as she stepped out of her car.

“About five minutes ago, yes.” He lifted a suitcase from the trunk. “Your grandmother told me neither of you would be here.”

“I changed my mind. I didn’t think it would be nice to expect you to eat alone on your first night here.”

He shut the trunk. “I would have been fine. I know where everything is and can handle warming up a casserole on my own.”

Always so matter of fact. It was one of a few personality traits of his that grated on her nerves. There were many times she wasn’t sure if he was simply being practical, truly didn’t have a feeling one way or another about an issue, or was preparing to scold her.

She bent her ankle back and forth as he lifted the suitcase and walked toward the house, feeling more like a young girl than an independent 28-year-old woman. That was one of the main sticking points of her relationship with her parents. Both of them seemed to forget she was a grown woman now.

William looked over his shoulder from where he was standing on the porch by the front door. “Should I get the key from under the back mat or would you like to open it for me?”

“Oh. Right. Of course.”

With the door unlocked they walked inside and he headed straight for the stairs. “I’m going to put my suitcase upstairs and wash up a bit.”

“I’ll put the casserole in the oven.”

“If you want to.”

She did want to. She was hungry. Resisting the urge to tell him this with a snarky attitude proved a challenge so she literally bit her tongue on the way to the kitchen.

Fifteen minutes later she’d set the table and poured them both a glass of water with ice and lemon. The casserole smelled amazing and Pixel was rubbing against her legs and trilling adorably. She took a moment to video chat with Abbie and ask her how she was doing since they hadn’t had a chance to catch up. By the time they were done chatting – with a few interruptions from Abbie’s youngest – the casserole was ready.

She said goodbye to Abbie, reached down and scratched the top of Pixel’s head as her father walked through the door. He made a face that let her know he did not approve of the cat.

“Mother said you’d brought a cat home. I didn’t know you’d kept it.”

Gladwynn scooped Pixel up, hoping that this time she’d accept a cuddle. Instead the cat launched into her normal reaction to someone trying to cuddle her – twisting all four legs in different directions and wiggling her all-black girth in circles while yowling. Gladwynn dropped her gently to the floor and scratched her head again. “Fine. Don’t let me cuddle you. At least you let me pet you.”

“You let it in the kitchen?”

Gladwynn checked the casserole. “We let her go wherever she wants pretty much.”

“And my mother is fine with this?”

“For the most part, yes. She wasn’t at first but they’ve grown on her.”

He shook his head as he sat at the table. “How times have changed. She didn’t like pets in the house at all when we were growing up.”

Scout peeked in the back window over the sink, her signal that she wanted to come in. Gladwynn chose to ignore her, hoping she could wait until dinner was over so her father didn’t look at her in disgust like he had Pixel. She and her siblings hadn’t been allowed pets growing up and when she’d moved to her own apartment, she’d immediately adopted an older cat from a shelter. The cat had died of old age the year before she moved to Brookstone but she’d been happy she’d been able to give him a safe place to grow old.

William sniffed. “That smells delicious. It was nice of Mother to make dinner before she went to her meeting.” He sipped his water. “She tells me that you skip dinner a lot. That doesn’t sound healthy to me.”

That was a rich comment from him, considering how often the man had worked through dinner while she was growing up, choosing to stay at the office instead of coming home. She considered saying so, but instead set the casserole dish in the center of the table and then retrieved a spoon to dip it out with.

“I do what I have to do. More often than not I am home for supper actually.” She needed to remind Lucinda to not share about her habits with her father anymore.

They each dipped out the casserole and William lifted his fork. Gladwynn coughed softly. “Grandma and I always say grace.”

William nodded curtly. Saying a prayer of blessing before dinner was something they had done as a family when she was younger as well. She wondered if he and her mom had fallen out of that habit since the children had moved away, since he had been ready to eat without saying one.

She spoke a quick prayer and they said “amen” together.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “That was nice.”

They ate in silence for several moments. She wasn’t sure what to say to him and she had a feeling he wasn’t sure what to say to her either. The silence was welcoming, really. She’d expected him to start by scolding her for leaving Carter and not waiting to see if she’d get her job back at the library or find a similar one like he had before she’d accepted the job at the paper.

“So.”

She braced herself.

“Your grandmother says you witnessed something quite difficult a few days ago.”

She took a deep breath. “I didn’t really witness anything difficult necessarily. Just the aftermath of something difficult.”

“The woman was dead, though. That must have been difficult. How are you doing?”

She shrugged her shoulder. “Okay, I guess. I’d love to know who left her in that condition.” She was not about to offer up any of her theories to her dad. He’d most likely quickly dismiss her concerns.

“That reminds me.” He wiped his mouth and laid his napkin down across his lap. “Your grandmother filled me in on the story about that attempted murder case and burglary ring you ended up covering. I thought this job was a simple small town newspaper job. Shouldn’t you be writing about school assemblies, church rummage sales, and municipal meetings?”

“I do write about those things.”

He leveled a stern gaze at her. “But I hear you confronted a murderer.”

You wouldn’t have heard anything if Grandma didn’t have a big mouth. It’s not like I would have told you.

“Attempted murderer. He didn’t actually go through with it.”

Her father held his fork suspended between his plate and mouth. “He was a man who had the mental capability to consider ending another person’s life and you were alone with him on an overlook.”

“Technically, yes, but also, no. A state police trooper was also there part of the time. He was hiding in the bushes.”

“The trooper was in the bushes?”

“Well, yes, because he was listening to the man’s confession. He’s a detective now.”

“The criminal?”

“No. The trooper.”

Her father laid his fork down, rubbed his chin and pursed his lips briefly. “And now someone has actually been murdered and you were a witness?”

“Not a witness, exactly. Doris walked in and found her and I came in after Doris and called the police. We didn’t see the murder happen.”

“You’re not covering the case, are you?”

She took a long drink of water, wishing this conversation was over already. “No, my boss says it would be a conflict of interest since I may be called to testify at a future trial.”

“You’re keeping your nose out of it then, correct?”

Gladwynn sighed and tipped her head back against the chair. “Dad, what’s this conversation really about? I mean, what is really bothering you?”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Gladwynn. What is really bothering me is what the problem really is and that problem is that you are inserting yourself into situations you have nothing to do with. The Brookstone Beacon isn’t The New York Times–”

“The New York Times isn’t even The New York Times anymore,” Gladwynn mumbled.

William cleared his throat and Gladwynn was starting to wonder if he needed an antihistamine. “What I’m saying is that there is no need for hard-hitting investigative journalism in Brookstone. Let the police handle the investigation and–”

“I cover the news. I know.” Gladwynn folded her arms over her chest, feeling like a child again. “I’m not even covering it. My co-worker is. I merely asked a couple of people a couple of questions about Samantha and if they knew why someone would hurt her. I mean, everyone seemed to adore her. She wasn’t someone that anyone should have wanted to kill and I’m curious what led to her being taken from this world at such a young age.”

“That’s why there are police. They can ask those questions and find out the answers. You, however, can go take a photo at a ribbon cutting or a spelling bee, or somewhere else that doesn’t put you at risk.”

“I’m not putting myself at—”

“Gladwynn, someone killed this woman. Someone who still may be out there. Someone who probably won’t appreciate an upstart reporter snooping around trying to find out who they are.” William folded his napkin. “I know you think your mother and I care more about career than anything else, but that is not true. We care about you very much and don’t want to see you hurt. Your job at the library was right up your alley. It was calm, safe and —”

“And I was laid off, which wasn’t my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t, but you could have waited to see if they hired you back or found a similar job at any other number of colleges.”

“I wanted to try something different with my life, Dad. Is that a crime?”

“I didn’t say it was. All I’m saying is–”

Gladwynn stood abruptly. “All you’re saying is that my job doesn’t meet your expectations of what you think a child of yours should be doing. Well, I’m sorry about that but I like my job and I like the people here and I’m tired of being made to feel like I’m not good enough every time I talk to you.”

“That is not what –”

Gladwynn stalked through the kitchen doorway on her way to the front door. “I’m going back to work.”

“Fine. If you don’t want to continue to hash this out, then run away like you always do.”

She slammed the door and stomped down the front stairs toward her car.

She would never measure up to whatever line her father had drawn for her to measure up to. No matter what she did with her life, it would never be enough for him. At least that was how it felt at this moment. Why his comments and interrogations bothered her so much she had no idea. He had some good points. He and her mother were probably worried about her. Digging into Samantha Mors past probably wasn’t a good idea while her murderer was still out there.

She didn’t know why she felt so desperate to learn why Samantha died. Maybe because they’d been close in age.  Samantha’s opportunity to lead a fulfilling life was ripped from her by someone who felt they had the right to end her life and that angered Gladwynn as much as it broke her heart. The person who’d taken Samantha’s life needed to pay for what they done. While she knew that Tanner was perfectly capable of finding out who the guilty party was, she felt an odd sense of obligation to help him reach his goal.

Starting her car, she growled softly. She was deluding herself. Tanner Kinney didn’t need her help investigating this murder. It was curiosity that was driving her forward. Curiosity and her intense desire to be in control.

The idea that she was able to go through life enjoying sunny days, the laughter of her friend’s children, the smile of her grandmother, and the feel of lake water on her feet while Samantha had had all of that taken away from her broke her heart. She was determined to help however she could even if her father and Tanner didn’t think she should.    

Weekend Traffic Jam Reboot: Autumn colors and vibes

It has been a beautiful week here in my neck of the woods. The temperatures have been perfect. For the last two days the sun has been shining.

Today I walked among the fallen leaves and while I was a bit sad that most of our leaves have already blown off the trees, it was nice to look at the few leaves that are left.

Welcome to this week’s Weekend Traffic Jam Reboot which I host with Marsha in the Middle and Melynda from Scratch Made Food For Hungry People.

Did you get a chance to visit all the links from last week? Or maybe you are new to the traffic jam? If you are new, please feel welcome to leave a link this week to a blog post of your own that was your favorite from this past week. Then please visit and comment on the other links and get to know the other bloggers who participate.

This is a fun way to meet new bloggers.

Our most clicked link from last week was:

Don’t Let Menopause and Body Image Issues Affect How You See Yourself by Women Living Well After 50.

My favorites for this week were:

Wordless Wednesday, Fall in New England by My Slice of Life

Falloween Home Tour by Debbie Dabbleblog

and

Healthy Halloween Snacks by Real Food Blogger

How about all of you? How has your week been? Anything exciting planned for the weekend? Let me know in the comments.

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Comfy, Cozy Cinema: Rebecca (1940)

For the rest of October and all of November, Erin from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs and I will be watching cozy or comfy movies and some of them will have a little mystery, creepiness, or adventure added in.

This week we watched Alfred Hitchcock’s Rebecca from 1940 and, no, the movie isn’t comfy or cozy so we should have called this feature Comfy, Cozy, and Creepy. Regardless of what the feature is called, Rebecca is a bit of a creepy movie. Technically it is called a gothic psychodrama.

Whatever it is called — it has an eerie air about it all the way through.

The story follows a woman (Joan Fontaine) who falls in love with Maximillian (Maxim) de Winter (Lauren Olivier), a brooding widower. Despite being told by her companion, Mrs. Van Hopper that Maxim is still obsessed with his dead wife Rebecca, this woman pursues a relationship with Maxim. The woman is also never named, apparently, that’s how unimportant she is to Maxim, I suppose. She’s simply ever called “the second Mrs. De Winter.” I find that odd, but anyhoo…

There are a lot of red flags when she is dating Maxim at first. Like his outbursts for one.

And the fact that Mrs. de Winter number two is completely obsessed with the man. Like desperately obsessed. Plus his proposal is a bit crazy. “I’m asking you to marry me, you fool.”

And that is only a short time after they meet. Insert wide-eyed face here. Can we say yikes?

Mrs. de Winter number two and Maxim get married very quickly and move to Maxim’s mansion, Manderley (because all rich people name their mansions and estates and I find that weird). Things start to get really creepy at the mansion because Maxim is even more broody there, but also because his housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers, is a real ghoul of a woman. Mrs. Danvers was a confidant of the first Mrs. de Winter, which she likes to tell the second Mrs. de Winter a lot. Mrs. Danvers has even kept Rebecca’s room like she had it before she died.

As the story continues, it is clear that the first Mrs. de Winters died under suspicious circumstances, even though Maxim told everyone she died by suicide.

Mrs. de Winter number two tries to cheer her new husband up by holding a house party but ends up wearing a dress Rebecca used to wear, which freaks Maxim all out. Of course, Mrs. Danvers told her to wear the dress.

It’s clear throughout this movie that Maxim needed some therapy after his first wife’s death but it will become even clearer that he needed that therapy for a reason other than her supposed suicide after a storm washes a boat ashore and –

Well, you will have to watch the movie to find out why.

Olivier is perfect in this movie as Maxim. He’s handsome, brooding, mysterious, and a bit jerky all at the same time. He reminds me of Cary Elwes in The Princess Bride, or Elwes reminds me of him actually since Elwes came afterward – you know what I mean.

Maxim is clearly in love with Mrs. de Winter number two (despite the fact she doesn’t have an identity apart from being his wife since her name is never used) but he can’t fully love her because of his past experience with wife number one.

This movie, by the way, is yet another adaptation of a book. Rebecca was originally written by Daphne du Maurier and producer David Selznick told Hitchcock he wanted the story of the movie to follow du Maurier’s story.

According to the American Cinematographers site, ” Kay Brown, East Coast story editor for Selznick, sent a synopsis to her boss with the highest recommendation (after reading the book). After consulting with his resident story editor, Val Lewton, the producer acquired the film rights to du Maurier’s book for a hefty $50,000.”

There was one huge difference between the book and the movie and it had to do with Hollywood codes and the ending, but I’ll leave you to figure that out on your own in case you have never seen the movie because it is a spoiler.

I did find it interesting to read during my research that du Maurier did not want Hitchcock to write the screenplay for this movie because she hated his adaption of Jamaica Inn, released in 1939. She said it reflected his cavalier attitude toward the original source material.

In the end, du Maurier didn’t have to worry because Selznick made Hitchcock keep the movie very close to the source material. It is interesting that the screenplay was written by Joan Harrison and Robert E. Sherwood and not Hitchcock.

Hitchcock told a magazine in 1938 that he planned to make the movie like he would a horror film.

Selznick and Hitchcock on the set of Rebecca,

“This is really a new departure for me,” he said in the November 5, 1938 edition of Film Weekly. “I shall treat this more or less as a horror film, building up my violent situations from incidents such as one in which the young wife innocently appears at the annual fancy-dress ball given by her husband in a frock identical to the one worn by his first wife a year previously.” (source American Cinematographer site: https://theasc.com/articles/du-maurier-selznick-hitchcock-rebecca). 

This was Hitchcock’s first time working with Selznick and it is clear that in some ways he didn’t like working with him since at the end of the movie Selznick wanted a large plume of smoke to form an “R” (having to do with the plot) but since Selznick was so busy with finishing Gone With the Wind, Hitchcock had the R on the pillow instead. Hitchcock also edited the film in-camera, which means he only shot the scenes he wanted in the final film. The idea behind this was to keep Selznick from being able to cut or rearrange things.

Selznick did, however, find a way to re-edit the film and add his own touches to it, including adding some of the music. As always in Hitchcock’s films, this movie included many incredible cinematography moments, including a reflection in a pool of water of couples dancing in one scene.

The film was nominated for nine Oscars and won for best picture and (no surprise) cinematography in 1940, but surpisingly no awards were given to the actors or the director.

According to one article I read, Selznick always lived in the shadow of Gone with the Wind, never feeling like anything he did afterward measured up to it. Rebecca was the only movie he felt came close to Gone With The Wind.

I also found it sad and interesting that the filming for the movie began on September 8, which was only five days after England declared war and eight days after the German Army invaded Poland.

They budgeted the production for 36 days, but in two weeks the company was five days behind schedule, partially because the cast and staff were so worried about the safety of friends and family.

I have a lot of positives about this movie, but one thing I didn’t like was the constant score in the background. I really found the constant playing of music in the background to be irritating. The movie could have been, and was, suspenseful without it.

Have you ever seen Rebecca? What did you think of it?
If you haven’t watched it, you can currently find it for free on YouTube:

To read Erin’s impression of the movie, visit her blog here: https://crackercrumblife.com/

If you wrote a blog post about the movie you can share it in our link up.

Coming up in our Comfy, Cozy feature:

Little Women (November 2)

Tea with The Dames (November 9)

A break for Thanksgiving

And

Sense and Sensibility (November 30th)

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