Lisa R. Howeler's Blog, page 60

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.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

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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)

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

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The Blessing in Hebrew

The Lord bless you and keep you
Make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you
The Lord turn His face toward you
And give you peace

The Lord bless you and keep you
Make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you
The Lord turn His face toward you
And give you peace

Amen, amen, amen
Amen, amen, amen

The Lord bless you and keep you
Make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you
The Lord turn His face toward you
And give you peace

Amen, amen, amen
Amen, amen, amen
Amen, amen, amen
Amen, amen, amen

May His favor be upon you
And a thousand generations
And your family and your children
And their children, and their children

May His favor be upon you
And a thousand generations
And your family and your children
And their children, and their children

May His favor be upon you
And a thousand generations
And your family and your children
And their children, and their children

May His favor be upon you
And a thousand generations
And your family and your children
And their children, and their children

May His presence go before you
And behind you, and beside you
All around you, and within you
He is with you, he is with you

In the morning, in the evening
In your coming, and your going
In your weeping, and rejoicing
He is for you, he is for you

He is for you, he is for you
He is for you, he is for you
He is for you, he is for you
(Amen, amen)

Amen, amen, amen
Amen, amen, amen

May His favor be upon you
And a thousand generations
And your family and your children
And their children, and their children

May His presence go before you
And behind you, and beside you
All around you, and within you
He is with you, he is with you

In the morning, in the evening
In your coming, and your going
In your weeping, and rejoicing
He is for you, He is for you

Ohh

He is for you (ohh)

Sunday Bookends: Fall photos, did not finish books, I’m not a real book blogger, and watching old movies (again)

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

Yesterday I rambled about last week in my Saturday Afternoon Chat post. You can read that here if you want to.

One thing I mentioned was that I wanted to get some more photographs of the autumn leaves left on our trees. So many have been blown off already and it has been gloomy almost every day for the last week and a half so I haven’t felt like going out to take photographs, but I made myself yesterday. For you. My blog readers who don’t have fall colors. I pushed myself out there and I was so cold and frozen and stumbled home and was forced to huddle under a blanket with hot cocoa and a book the rest of the day. It was rough. Still, I managed to grab some photos for you and they are in the Photos of the Week section further down in this post.

 Today I may try to grab a few more photos as I go to visit my parents for the afternoon but it looks like it is going to be another chilly and windy day so we will see.

The Boy’s friend visited yesterday and they were hanging out in the living room, so I was able to hang out on my own all day and took that time to write blog posts, read a book (that I ended up tossing aside because it was just too awful. See below.), and watch a concert by a Christian musician I like. It was a nice day and I think I need to lock myself upstairs more often.

What I/we’ve been Reading

(I want to reiterate for any book bloggers who visit here that I’m not really a book blogger. I sign-up with the book blogging link ups because I like to see what others are reading and to meet new bloggers. I just don’t want to mislead anyone into thinking that I am a fast or voracious reader. I do read a lot, but I am also writing books of my own and homeschooling my two children (ages 9 and almost 17), so I don’t read as much as many of the bloggers who link up for these fun features.)

This week I got caught up reading the first book in a multi-author series I am a part of this week. The series is called The Apron Strings Books and it is going to offer 11 books which will each focus on a particular decade from the 1920s to 2020. I am writing a book called Cassie, which will come out in August of 2024.

The first book is called Polly and it is by Naomi Musch.

A description:

One cookbook connects them all…
Polly ~ Book One in a string of heartfelt inspirational stories, featuring different women throughout the decades from 1920 to 2020.

The Great War has ended, but Polly Holloway’s heart is shattered when her fiancé finally returns home—with a French war bride. Now her future feels desolate, until she fastens onto the idea of using her skills and a special cookbook to turn her grandfather’s Victorian house into a fashionable ladies’ tea room. Yet, how will she endure the patronage of the woman who stole her sweetheart? Moreover, the suave tavern owner down the block is interfering in her business, personal and otherwise. Heaven only knows what goes on behind his doors.

Ross Dalton can no longer sell liquor in his establishment. With prohibition in force, it’s a mixed blessing. Ross met God on the battlefield, and he wants to start fresh, but he must earn a living. Converting his bar into a coffee house offers a partial solution. Still, bootleggers are pressing him to pedal their moonshine, and the girl up the street is convinced his place is a front for a speakeasy. She’s awfully cute when she turns up her pert little nose at his friendly overtures. How can he convince her he isn’t going to tarnish the neighborhood or ruin her business? And will she believe he’s a changed man when the bootleggers double down?

I’m really enjoying the book and am excited that I am receiving advanced copies of all of the books since I’m part of the project. I can’t wait for everyone to read these books. I was so wrapped up in this one I was actually talking to a character. Out loud. In the middle of the night. Eek. Yes, the story certainly pulls you in.

If you want to learn more about the series, you can join our group on Facebook here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/apronstringsreaders

I was reading a cozy mystery called Death Bee Comes Her by Nancy Coco but it was a DNF for me yesterday. It drove me crazy. The story was just – not good. The things that the characters did were ridiculous. Listen, I know cozy mysteries aren’t the best literature out there sometimes but this book was out and out ridiculous. There were way too many pages where it was just dialogue and not good dialogue either. I was disappointed because the beginning of it had so much promise.

So, in addition to Polly, I am back to reading Walls Crumbling by Alicia Gilliam. I am enjoying this book, which is the second in the Seth Browne series.

A description:

Hiding from the world brought them all together.

Facing it might tear them apart.

Can they survive beyond the walls of the white clapboard house?

Can Seth endure the exposure of a state agent investigating their newly-buried past, including the grave he dug with his bare hands?

Will they find the missing redhead needed to exonerate Seth from suspicion? It all depends on little Benji.

Government intrusion could force the boy even further into his silent bubble — or empower him to reveal his darkest secret.

Meanwhile, Cassady fears a new identity remains permanently out of reach. An invisible link to her past seems to threaten any hope of a romantic happily-ever-after.

Seth secretly wonders if trusting God isn’t the answer for his growing temptations. He’s praying, but every day, the walls are closing in on him.

Walls Crumbling invites you to step into a world where God builds firm foundations over the top of broken rubble.

In addition to reading those books this week, I hope to finish Red Badge of Courage this week, plus a cozy mystery book I’ve been listening to forever on Audible. I am reading Red Badge of Courage with my teenager for school and neither of us got to it last week to read so we will finish it this week.

I have also been reading chapters of a book called When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit by Judith Kerr. I am really enjoying it, but since I am a mood reader, I have laid it aside a couple of times to pick up a cozier book. I believe it’s considered a middle-grade book but it does have a lot of deep subject matter in it since it is about a family who had to leave Germany to escape the Nazis.

Little Miss and I finished Gone Away Lake last week and I have ordered Return to Gone Away Lake for her.

I try to cut myself some slack when I don’t think I’m reading enough and remind myself I’m also reading books with the kids, plus writing my own books and this blog. I am not a speed reader and I’m also not retired yet. When I get to the retirement stage, I will read more books and I’m sure I’ll read them faster.

Photos from Last Week

As I mentioned above, I made it a point to go out for a drive yesterday in very gloomy weather to take some fall photos for my blog readers who don’t live in an area where the leaves change. It seemed like every beautiful tree or group of trees I saw was in a spot where I couldn’t pull off the road to take a photograph. In other places so many leaves had blown off that it wasn’t really pretty enough for a photo.

Still, it was fun to drive around and see the leaves that are still left.

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What We watched/are Watching

This past week I watched Penny Serenade with Cary Grant and Irene Dunn (who also starred in The Awful Truth with my friend Erin and I watched for The Spring of Cary feature).  Released in 1941, it was a comedy-drama that focused on the struggles of a newly married couple and then follows them through the struggles of a pregnancy loss, adoption, childhood illness, and the continuing struggles all those things bring to a married couple.

It was a bit heavy for me in some parts and made me want to cry, but it was very well done and did showcase so many issues parents have to deal with – some of them funny and some of them heartbreaking.

There were some really hilarious scenes when the parents had to figure out how to get their daughter to sleep, learn about bathing her and other issues she had to face as she grew up.

The ending didn’t sit well with me for a variety of reasons but I was glad that the movie explored how a couple can group apart when suffering a tragedy in their lives and marriage, but that it is possible to come back together again.

I also watched Strangers on a Train with The Husband and The Boy for Erin (from Still Life, with Cracker Crumbs) Comfy, Cozy Feature. As a commenter pointed out, this movie really wasn’t cozy or comfy but Erin and I never got around to adding “Creepy” to the name of the feature so…there you go.

Next week we are watching Rebecca – also not a comfy or cozy movie.

This week I hope to watch some actually cozy YouTube videos from some of my favorite YouTubers and find some other cozy old movies I have not watched before. Followers on here and on my Instagram (www.instagram.com/lisarhoweler) have been giving me some awesome suggestions for movies and I am adding them all to a list in my notebook. I’m especially looking for cozy, feel-good films for November and December so let me know if you have any of those suggestions.

What I’m Writing

I am editing Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage this week. I will pass that on to my editor husband and some proofreaders on November 1 and start right in on Cassie from the Apron Strings Book series I mentioned above.

This week on the blog I shared:

Saturday Afternoon Chat: My loser cats can’t catch mice in the house, autumn views, the deer are looking for boyfriends, and ready for some sunFiction Friday: Gladwynn Grant Takes Center StageWeekend Traffic Jam RebootComfy, Cozy Cinema: Strangers on a Train

What I’m Listening to

I have been listening to a lot of worship music this week, especially from Joshua Aaron, an Israeli-American Messianic Jew.

My dad shared this beautiful version of The Blessing being sung in Hebrew on his Facebook page last night and  wanted to share it with you today.

Here is another version of it in a video he filmed in Jerusalem:

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.

Saturday Afternoon Chat: My loser cats can’t catch mice in the house, autumn views, the deer are looking for boyfriends, and ready for some sun

I’m starting this post on Friday night and it is raining outside.

The Husband, kids and I just got back a bit ago from having pizza with my parents and watching a few episodes of Newhart.

Now we are inside our cozy house watching an old Noir movie (The Asphalt Jungle).

The dog is sitting next to me, cuddled up and I am thinking how blessed we are to be here even as we face some future uncertainty.

There is so much heartache around the world and it has touched many of us in different ways.

Tonight, though, we are safe and warm.

Last weekend The Husband and I attended a charity event near us where people pay high ticket prices to have the chance to win $3,000.

We didn’t win but it was nice to get out because we don’t do it that often.

They had a dinner before hand and then they started to call numbers of the participants. If the person’s number was called then they were eliminated from the chance to win the money. Some people won gift certificates or $125 when they were eliminated. We did not because that’s our luck – stinky.

They would eliminate around ten people and then have an intermission where everyone would go onto the dance floor for 15 minutes or so and – obviously dance.

There was a local DJ playing the music and most of the music was oldies. At one point they played Unchained Melody and everyone over the age of 50 descended onto the floor and began to sway in the green and blue lights. I’d actually say most of them were more like over the age of 60.

The Husband and I didn’t dance but we did hold hands and watch all the older people dancing away. We aren’t really dancers. I suppose we could have swayed, which is what we did at our wedding.

We would have liked to have won the money but we are homebodies so we were kind of glad when we were eliminated fairly early in the night so we could slip out and go pick up Little Miss from her grandparents. The Boy had stayed home to play video games. I had broken out a book already anyhow. I didn’t really know that many people and am not a partier at all so I read a book while everyone danced.

On our way to the event we noticed there were deer everywhere we looked practically. There were groups of 15-20 does all gathered together in fields, along the roads, and in the woods. It was a little eerie really.

I’ve lived in Pennsylvania my whole life and never remembered seeing so many together like that. On the way back from the charity event they were right at the edges of the road, the headlights barely illuminating them. We were worried one might jump out in front of us.

Imagine how foolish I felt when there was an article on a local TV station site a few days later reminding people to be careful because it was mating season for the white tailed deer.

Oh.

I suppose that explained why they were all out there in groups – they were waiting for their man to show up and court them.

The rest of our week was very uneventful for the most part. We did schoolwork, The Husband went to work, The Boy to trade school in the morning, and I finished Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage. The first draft anyhow. I’ll be editing and revising all this week.

After we got back from my parents’ house last night, we had some excitement when the cat started pawing inside our downstairs closet. I had a feeling she had something trapped because she was trying to crawl up the wall, her tail swishing crazily. I looked up and a mouse was sitting on the coat hanger bar inside the closet, trying to pretend it wasn’t there. I have no idea where it went but as Little Miss and I called The Husband to come look, the mouse disappeared as if in thin air. We thought it had run into a pair of coveralls that were hanging in there so The Husband tossed it out on the back porch. When he went in to clean out the shelf where he found mouse droppings, though, the mouse started running again. It hid behind some boxes but when he moved the boxes it was gone again. He couldn’t see any holes in the wall so he had no idea where it went.

The cat, by the way, took off when The Husband started pulling things out of the closet. She then escaped out the back door into the darkness when I went to take the dog out to use the bathroom.

“You’re fired!” I yelled after her. “You can catch all those mice outside but you can’t get them in the house?! Really?!”

Our other cat just sat in the kitchen floor like she was bored with it all. She’s also been fired.

I suppose we will keep them despite their failures.

After the mouse craziness, we headed to bed and even more weirdness occurred when I plugged in my phone charger (which has been acting up lately) and it shorted out and caused all the outlets in the room I was in to stop working.

Now, I didn’t know it had flipped a breaker so I sat for 20 minutes in despair, thinking that my phone had been shorted out because it would not charge. I used every charger in every outlet in my daughter’s room.

I was even starting to cry because I use my phone at night to listen to podcasts if I can’t fall asleep or even as a flashlight. I was being really silly about it all so my almost 17-year-old came to my rescue. He took the phone and charger and plugged it in in our hallway and it immediately started working.

That clued us in that the shorting out of the charger (which was an Apple charger, I might add) had blown the breaker for my daughter’s room. We decided it was too late to mess with it and The Husband was already asleep. In the morning we found out that not only had it messed up the outlets in my daughter’s room but also three lights downstairs, including our outside light.

My dad helped us figure that out earlier today.

As an aside, there are an insane amount of outlets in this house. We just discovered more of them in the last month that we had never seen before even though they were in plain sight. For example, last week I asked my husband to plug my phone in outside the bathroom door. He said, “Where?”

I told him I’d just found the outlet outside the door.

“Really?” he said. “How did I never see that?!”

He asked that because it is seriously right there – in plain sight – in our hallway. Across the hall is nother one.

The whole exchange  reminded me of this scene in an episode of Doctor Who where the Doctor tells Amelia Pond that there is another door in her house and she says there isn’t but he says to look through the corner of her eye and she’ll see it. She does and goes into the room the door leads to. An alien is behind her in the room and she says she can’t see anything but she knows something is there and he tells her not to look in the corner of her eye. Unfortunately, she does.

Shudder.

Here is part of the scene, if you’ve never seen it:

Of course when I see that scene I think of my favorite scene from that episode. It’s right after The Doctor has regenerated from being my favorite doctor, David Tennant, into my second favorite Doctor, Matt Smith, and he’s starving but he can’t remember what food he likes.

I’ll share that one too for fun:

So here we are on Saturday and I headed out this morning to take some photos of the changing leaves. I hadn’t had much water to drink, or much to eat, and the pressure dropped lower than I’d seen it in a long time, so I didn’t feel so great when I went for my drive. That led to fewer photos than I wanted to take but I hope to go out again later this afternoon and snap some more.

I have issues with lower barometric pressure. My head feels weird and my muscles go weak and hurt and – well, I’m a mess when the barometric pressure drops.

I feel much better after some water and food, but still not great.

We really need some more sun. It was cloudy and miserable all week and I thought we were supposed to have more sun this weekend. Apparently not.

Since it’s going to remain cloudy, I guess I’ll simply have to take photos of leaves without pretty sun filtering through them.

Our hillsides are not really ablaze with color at this point. A lot of our leaves have fallen off and, of course, there are those dead ash trees (killed, as I’ve mentioned here before, by the ash bore) but there are still individual trees that are beautiful and eye-catching.

I’ll share a few of the photos I took today and a few tomorrow in my Sunday Bookends post.

As I wrap up this post I am going to head downstairs from where I am huddled under some covers in bed make some tea and then come back up and huddle under the covers some more.

Let the rest of the family fend for themselves until the sun comes back out, I say.

How was your week last week? Do anything fun or interesting?

Let me know in the comments.

Fiction Friday: Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage Chapter 8 and 9

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 8

For their dinner break on Wednesday, Laurel invited Gladwynn to the Mountain Run Inn, a bar and restaurant about five miles outside the town limits of Brookstone.

It was nestled in between two pine-covered mountains with not much around it other than trees and the dirt road that led there. Gladwynn had never visited the establishment before and admired the log cabin appearance of it as Laurel pulled her dented gray Honda into a parking space. They’d spent the drive around the bends and curves and up and down hills talking about stories they were working on, Liam’s latest girlfriend, and Samantha’s murder.

As they walked inside and Gladwynn took in the outfits of the clientele – specifically faded blue jeans, plaid shirts, t-shirts, and work boots – she glanced down at her vintage-style white dress with large orange flowers spread across the flared bottom, her orange heels, and orange purse and immediately felt overdressed.

This was a bar and grill for blue collared workers and she stuck out like a sore thumb. She felt eyes on her as they walked to a booth in the back. Neon and metal signs advertising various brands of beer lined the walls, in between vintage farming tools and framed posters of NASCAR drivers.

Laurel winked as she slid into the seat across from Gladwynn, using her best 1930s New York City accent. “People in here aren’t used to seeing classy dames like you.”

Gladwynn rolled her eyes. “Stop. Why didn’t you tell me I was overdressed.”

Laurel snickered. “And miss the look on everyone’s face when they saw you sashay through here? No way.”

Gladwynn groaned softly. “Thanks a lot.”

The Brookstone Beacon had a loose dress code. Laurel was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a plain dark blue T-shirt, fitting in perfectly with the diners around her. “What? It’s true. You’re like high fashion around these parts. The minds of the men in here are being blown right now and the women are all wishing they could look as good as you.”

Gladwynn glanced around the bar and saw that most of the people had turned their attention back to their food or drinks. Only one person was looking at her, turned around on his barstool, elbows propped behind him on top of the bar. A small, sly smile curved his mouth upward.

Laurel snorted out a small laugh. “Vince sure is enjoying the view.”

Gladwynn turned her attention back to the table, pulling the menu from where it was propped up between the salt and pepper shakers. “Vince is –” She shook her head slowly and read the menu. “Well, Vince.”

Laurel lowered her voice. “Don’t look now but here he comes.”

“Lady.” Vince bowed slightly in Gladwynn’s direction as he stopped a few inches from their table. He glanced at Laurel. “And Laurel. Hello.”

Laurel scowled, snatching a menu from its holder. “Shouldn’t you be wrestling someone back into their cell?”

Vince folded his arms across his chest and grinned. “Not for a couple more hours, no. What brings you two out this far from Brookstone?”

Laurel’s scowl didn’t disappear as she looked at the menu. “What do you think brings us out here? We’re here to eat. Alone. Without the town flirt harassing us.”

A mocking gasp came from Vince. “Town flirt?” He touched a hand to his chest. “Me? Surely you jest. Besides, you don’t have anything to worry about if I was flirting. I’d sooner flirt with an angry bull in Fred Murphy’s pasture than flirt with you.” He smirked. “Actually, it would be the same thing.”

Laurel looked up, mouth pressed into a thin line. “Go away, Vince. Don’t you have someone else to bother?”

Vince jerked his head slightly to the right. “Yeah, actually. I have a drink to finish with your ex before I head home for a shower before work.” He turned his attention back to Gladwynn. “And before you ask, it’s a Pepsi, not a beer. I will not be showing up in your paper’s police briefs tonight.” His cocky demeanor faded as he hooked his thumbs in the beltloops of his jeans. “Seriously, though, it’s nice to see you here today. You’re a breath of fresh air in this stale, stinky place.”

Laurel snorted. “It’s only stale and stinky because you’re here.” She waved her fingers at him. “Buh-bye, Vince.”

Gladwynn held up a hand. “Actually, Vince, before you go, I was wondering. Did you know Samantha Mors?”

An expression she couldn’t read came over Vince’s face before it returned to the guarded stoicism she was used to seeing when he was serving as the security guard at the Birchwood Townships meetings. “Not well, no. We talked a few times at Bingo at the Birchwood Community Hall. She used to come out with Derek. Why do you want to know?”

“We’re doing a story about her and want to add some comments from people who knew her,” Laurel said, quickly making eye contact with Gladwynn. “We just want to add some personal views of her to flush out the story more.”

Vince seemed to accept that explanation and it was fine that he did because Gladwynn knew Laurel really was working on such a story.

He shrugged. “Like I said, I didn’t know her well. We just talked a few times. We used to trade stories about work. I’d also attended a couple of years at Ohio State and she said something about being from there, if I remember right. Said she’d gone there to get away from a suburb of Chicago where she’d grown up.” He smiled. “She had some kind of supernatural knack for winning Bingo. I remember that much.” He tipped his head down, looking at the floor, smile fading, thumbs still in his beltloops. “What happened to her is a real shame. I hope they find whoever did it. She didn’t deserve that.”

Something about the way his voice softened made Gladwynn wonder if there had either been more between Vince and Samantha or if Vince had simply wanted there to be.

Vince lifted his eyes to meet Gladwynn’s. “If you want to know more about Samantha, you should talk to the manager over at Willowbrook. Eileen. From what I could tell, she and Sam got pretty close over the last six months. She came with Sam and Derek to Bingo a couple of times and I used to see them picking up take out at the barbecue place on 87 a lot.”

Gladwynn gave him an appreciative nod. “Thank you. I’ll try that.”

He touched two fingers to his forehead as if he was touching the brim of a cap. “No problem. See you later.”

Gladwynn watched him walk back to the bar and caught Lance glancing at their table before turning his attention back to Vince and his drink. She hoped Lance’s presence wouldn’t send Laurel running back to her car. She’d already found something on the menu she wanted and her stomach was protesting the fact she’d skipped lunch.

“The only thing is,” she said, looking back at her menu. “Eileen said she and Samantha only knew each other well enough to watch movies once in a while.”

Laurel set her menu back and leaned back against the red leather booth cover behind her. “Who’d she say it to?”

“To the police.”

“Right. There you go.”

“What do you mean?”

Laurel pushed herself back against the wall and propped her legs up on the seat of the booth. “She told the police she wasn’t very close to Samantha but that’s because she didn’t want them to know she was. It might make her a suspect or at least someone they’ll want to ask more questions of. I don’t know Eileen well, but from what I do know, she doesn’t seem the type to confide in a lot of people and she’s especially not going to confide in an intimidating authority figure. She prefers to be the authority.”

Gladwynn set her menu back. She knew what she wanted. “She certainly looked meek this morning outside Derek’s condo when Derek’s son was letting her have it for cleaning out his father’s stuff and putting it in storage.”

The waitress came and took their orders. Gladwynn didn’t hesitate to order the Endless Mountains Burger topped with mozzarella cheese, hickory smoked bacon, lettuce, tomato, pickles, and onion. She added a side order of sweet potato fries and iced tea.

After ordering a grilled chicken salad with a side of cheese covered fries and waiting for the waitress to leave, Laurel tapped the table. “Spill it on Derek’s son. What happened?”

“Honestly, I probably shouldn’t.” Gladwynn smirked. “You are the press and all.”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “You’re the press too. This is off the record. I can’t use it for a story anyhow. I wasn’t there. Was the guy a jerk or what?”

The waitress set their drinks down and Gladwynn took a sip of the tea. She made a face and reached for the sugar packets. “Beyond a jerk. Totally rich too from what I could tell, which makes sense now that we’ve looked him up. He had a super expensive suit on and he was driving a super fancy car.”

Laurel smirked, propping one ankle over the other, her legs still stretched across the seat of the booth and one armed propped on the table. “You drive a fancy car. Are you super rich?”

Gladwynn poured sugar into the tea. “No, I’m just super in debt. I really should sell the thing and buy a more sensible car for the elements around here.”

Laurel responded in a mock high-society British accent, “For the elements around here. And what, dear Gladwynn, are the elements around here?”

Gladwynn narrowed her eyes. “You know what I mean. Snowy winters and wet springs and roads that aren’t taken care of very well. She unrolled the paper napkin around the silverware on the table. “Anyhow, on the way out here remembered something. There was a name on a piece of paper near Samantha’s body. Or the start of one. Or maybe they were just random letters. I don’t know.”

Laurel dropped her feet back on the floor and sat up straight, leaning both elbow on the table and placing her chin on her fingers, which she’d hooked together to make a type of bridge. “What were the letters?”

“D-e-r I think.”

“Like for Derek? She did hang out with him a lot.  Maybe she was writing him a letter at some point? Maybe the day she died?”

“Maybe,” Gladwynn said, though she thought about how it really was possibly since they were, most likely, father and daughter. “Or maybe she was leaving a clue? Like trying to tell someone who had killed her?

Laurel’s eyebrows raised. “Whoa. That’s a heavy thought. Like something out of a movie Have you told Tanner any of this yet?”

“No, like I said, I just remembered it on the way here. I was so worried about Doris that day I completely forgot about the note. Plus seeing Samantha’s face was a huge distraction.” She shuddered. “It was awful.”

She was glad that the waitress brought their food so she could stop talking about that day. Gladwynn marveled at the large steak knife sticking up out of a hamburger that was easily the same height as the knife. She popped a fry into her mouth and closed her eyes as flavor exploded over her tastebuds. Based on the fries alone she was thankful Laurel had invited her here.

Laurel stabbed a piece of lettuce, chicken and tomato like she was playing a game of whack-a-mole. “It’s so weird that Samantha was murdered only a week after Derek died. I mean, they were really close from what I hear. Do you think we’re all barking up the wrong tree thinking that she was murdered? Even the cops? Maybe she killed herself. I mean, maybe she was broken up by Derek’s death and just ended it all.”

Gladwynn thought about Samantha that day on the beach and how she had looked more furious than broken up. It didn’t mean Derek’s death hadn’t crushed her, of course. In fact, maybe her grief had turned to anger and she’d been taking it out on whomever she’d been talking to.

“Maybe,” she said, cutting the burger in half and contemplating how she was going to eat it. “I’m sure Tanner has more evidence than we know that points to it being murder, though. Otherwise he wouldn’t have issued a release saying it was suspicious.”

Laurel glanced toward the bar, then back again. “Suspicious could mean anything. It doesn’t always mean murder. It just means it wasn’t natural causes. Right?”

Gladwynn shrugged, finally picking up the fork and knife to cut the burger into bite sized pieces. If she tried to eat the burger whole, she’d definitely drip something on the dress. She’d found it at the local thrift store and had fallen in love with it immediately. It reminded her of a dress Ginger Rogers would have worn in one of her movies with Fred Astaire.

She took a bite of the burger and was again thrown into a moment of culinary pleasure. She paused to enjoy the bite and swallowed before answering. “Usually suspicious means murder in my mind and the mind of most people, but yeah, maybe it will turn out not to be murder. Like maybe a horrible accident instead.”

Laurel started to slide out of the booth. “I’ll be right back. I need to water the flowers.”

Gladwynn quirked an eyebrow as she sipped her tea. “Really? Why don’t you just say you need to use the bathroom?”

“I thought I should protect your sensitive sensibilities. What I usually say is that I’m going to take a —”

Gladwynn held up her hand. “I’m good. I can figure it out. Thank you.”

She continued to cut the burger and bun with the knife and fork. As she took another bite, she watched Lance walk from the bar toward her. He paused and leaned both hands on the table. “Is that how city girls eat burgers?”

Gladwynn sighed. “Only when the burger is bigger than their head and they don’t want to ruin their clothes. How are you doing?”

She noticed he was unshaven, his eyes rimmed with red. He didn’t wreak of booze so she was guessing the brush fires his department had been fighting over the last few days was the reason he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. She’d taken photos of one fire two days earlier and they kept cropping up all over the county, but especially in Birchwood, due to severely dry conditions.

“Doing okay. You’re not keeping very good company, are you? Surprised you got Laurel to leave the office long enough to eat. She used to just get takeout and eat it there.”

“I think the company I am keeping is just fine. I know you don’t want to admit it, but I think you still think the company I am keeping is fine too.”

Lance narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

Gladwynn dabbed her napkin against the corner of her mouth. “Did you forget to sign those divorce papers or did you not want to?”

He straightened, his glare making him look even more exhausted as he crossed his arms over chest, covering the words Firefighters Are Made of Tougher Stuff emblazoned across his blue t-shirt. “Laurel has a big mouth, doesn’t she? I bet she’s just ranting and raving about how once again I screwed up her life. Well, I will have you know that I did sign those papers. I may have missed one or two spots but there were a lot of spots to sign. You would have thought I was signing over my first –” A funny look came over his face and he swallowed hard. “It’s ridiculous is what it is. I’ll get them signed and then she can shut up and just move on with her life. Enjoy your meal.”

He walked away and disappeared through the back exit at the same moment Laurel emerged from the bathroom. She was clearly looking to see if Lance was still at the bar as she slid back into the booth.

“He left.”

Laurel adopted an innocent expression as she picked up a fry. “Who left?”

“You know who.”

“I don’t care that he left.”

“You do or you wouldn’t have been looking all around for him when you came back.”

Laurel stabbed a piece of lettuce hard. “Why don’t you just keep your investigating tendencies to yourself, Grant.” She took a bite and scowled in the direction Lance had been sitting. “I don’t even know what he was doing here.”

Gladwynn smiled. “Eating dinner?”

Laurel scoffed. “He never could cook for himself. If I didn’t cook, he’d eat a bologna sandwich or come here.”

“So, is this the first time you’ve seen him here since the divorce?”

“Yeah, but mainly because I’d been avoiding the place. I shouldn’t have to avoid my favorite places just because he might be there, though, which is why I came tonight. I just hoped he’d actually started cooking for himself and wouldn’t be here.”

Gladwynn sat back. “This was a good choice, that’s for sure. I’m going to have to take some of this with me. It’s a ton of food.” She watched Laurel pick olives out of her salad for a few moments before asking, “Are you sure you really wanted to divorce Lance?”

Laurel looked up sharply, mid-pick. “I’m sorry, what?”

Gladwynn knew she was in dangerous territory but she plowed forward anyhow. “Did you really want to divorce him? I mean, I don’t think he really wanted to divorce you. I think you two might be –”

Laurel laid her fork down, a hint of a smile crossing her lips. “Gladwynn, if I remember correctly, you are not a marriage counselor. You are also not married. You are a reporter and a former research librarian and a sometimes wannabe private investigator. I’m not sure why you think that you can talk to me about what you think I do or do not want when it comes to my ex-husband.”

Vince waved at Gladwynn as he headed toward the exit and she waved back then looked back at Laurel. “It’s just a feeling I have. That’s all. I just wonder if maybe you and Lance rushed your divorce and if maybe –”

Laurel held up her hand, palm out. The smile was gone. “That’s enough. I know you mean well, but no. I’m not going to sit here and discuss my feelings about my ex-husband with you. We had our reasons for splitting up and I had my reasons for filing for divorce. I also have my reasons for wanting to make sure that divorce is finalized. Now, let’s get that waitress and get a box for you.” She looked at Gladwynn’s plate and her smile slowly returned. “For a skinny little thing you sure can put the food away. You inhaled almost that entire burger.”

“No one has ever said I don’t have a healthy appetite.”

Laurel laughed. “No, I don’t think anyone would. Enjoy it while you can, sweetie. When you hit my age, the fat will just hold on instead of slipping off those shapely curves of yours. Trust me, I’ve attracted more fat than ever since I hit 40.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice in a conspiratorial way. “What we should be talking about is how hard Vince was flirting with you earlier and what you’ll say if he ever asks you out.”

Gladwynn reached inside her purse for her lipstick and make up compact. “Vince is a flirt. With everyone. Not just me.” She couldn’t deny she’d worried about Vince asking her out though. The thought made her nervous, since she had no interest in dating anyone at this time. It hadn’t been that long since she’d broken up with her college boyfriend.

She applied another layer of lipstick, checked her eyeliner, and moved a dark curl off her forehead. As she prepared to close the compact, the mirror caught the reflection of Tanner at the cash register behind her with a takeout box. He was standing with another man who she guessed to be another detective since they were both dressed in dress shirts and coats, ties, and dress pants. She snapped the compact closed.

“Be right back.”

“Oh sure.” Laurel scoffed. “Now you have to go to the bathroom when we are about to discuss your love life.”

Chapter 9

Gladwynn caught up to Tanner as he walked out the front door with his takeout containers.

`“Hey, Ta—Trooper Kinney. Can ask you a couple of questions?”

Tanner glanced over his shoulder as he slid his sunglasses on against the setting sun. “Miss Grant. Hello. And it’s Detective Kinney to you.

The other man looked briefly over his shoulder at her as well but they both kept walking toward an unmarked police cruiser in a parking space on the other side of the parking lot.  

She took two steps to keep up with their one. “Right. Excuse me. Detective Kinney. I have a couple questions for you.”

 Tanner clicked the button on the key fob in his hand. “I’m guessing these are questions I can’t answer.”

“You might be able to.”

“Are they about the Samantha Mors case?”

“They are.”

“Then I can’t answer them.”

“Why not? You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

They reached the car and the other detective opened his door, sat the food inside on the dashboard, then straightened and propped his arms on top of the car, watching as if he was ready for some entertainment to unfold.

Tanner opened the car door, keeping his hand there as he turned to look at her. “You’re a reporter.”

“I know I’m a reporter, but I’m a reporter who isn’t covering this case.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re still an employee of the Brookstone Beacon and you’ll be sharing information with your co-workers and boss.”

“You’re making quite an assumption about what I would and would not do, Tanner Kinney.

Tanner spoke sharply, looking down at her, which reminded her how much height he had on her. “Detective Kinney.”

“Again, sorry. Detective Kinney.”

“And you’ve gotten quite bold lately, Gladwynn Grant.”

“Miss Grant to you.”

“Miss Grant, you’ve gotten quite bold in only a few months of working as a reporter.”

“How do you know I haven’t worked as a reporter for years?”

“I’m a cop. I know things.”

“Like what things?”

“Like that you were a research librarian before you came here.”

“Have you been investigating me?”

“Not in the least.”

She folded her arms across her chest and quirked an eyebrow. “But you have been asking people about me? Who did you ask?”

Tanner sat the food container in the center console and shook his head. “Miss Grant, if this is about the Mors situation, you know I can’t tell you specifics about the case.”

“I know, but you will be calling Laurel at some point to fill her in, correct?”

 “We will release those details to the media through the proper channels when we have more information available.”

“You told Laurel that her death was suspicious. Do you think she was poisoned?”

“Gladwynn, I’m not going to share this information with you.” His tone was tense. “All I can say is that the coroner has determined that Samantha Mors death was due to natural causes.”

“But could it have been a suicide? I mean weren’t there pills on the bedside table? So she could have overdosed or –”

Tanner slid behind the steering wheel while his partner looked on with a smile tugging at one side of his mouth. “This conversation is over.”

“Tanner, I believe that to find out what happened to Samantha we need to consider—”

Tanner looked up at her sharply and while she couldn’t see his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, she had a feeling if he could shoot lasers at her from them he would. He propped an arm on the steering wheel, one leg still outside of the car. “We don’t need to do anything. You’re not a state trooper. You’re a reporter. This is not your case nor your concern.”

She should have apologized, shut her mouth, and walked away, but the Scottish stubbornness that had been passed down for generations kicked in and wiped away her better judgment.

“It’s not my case but it is my concern. This woman was a friend of my grandmother’s and our friend Doris and many others in this town. Doris and I were the ones who found her. I owe it to Doris and Grandma and to Samantha for that matter, to offer whatever help I can to find her killer.” She’d startled herself with the sharpness in her tone and apparently she’d also startled Tanner.

He stared at her for a brief moment, his mouth partially open, before he answered in a tone with a little less edge than he’d spoken in before.

“I know you want to help find out what happened to Samantha, and I appreciate your help, but there is very possibly someone out there who wanted her dead and if they find out you are poking your nose into things, they might want you dead too.” He pulled his other leg inside the car and slammed the door closed, starting the car, and rolling the window down. “You aren’t trained for investigating crimes. I am. I will certainly take any tips that you may come across into consideration. I would sincerely urge you, though, to stop actively seeking those tips not only for your safety but the safety of your grandmother and your friends.”

The other detective slid into the passenger seat and closed the door. Gladwynn noticed the man’s smile had disappeared. He’d also covered his eyes with a pair of sunglasses and was looking straight ahead. She took a deep breath and reigned her emotions in.

Tanner was right. She wasn’t an investigator and it really wasn’t her place to be asking questions.

She thought about the button and letter in her purse. She would give both of the items to Tanner, but if she did it now, he’d definitely accuse her of snooping. It hadn’t been her snooping, though – it had been her grandmother. She couldn’t very well throw Lucinda under the bus with law enforcement. Certainly not her poor, frail – oh, who was she kidding?

There was nothing frail about Lucinda Grant. Still, she wasn’t going to rat Lucinda out. At least not in front of Tanner’s partner. She could see Tanner being understanding when she explained why she’d removed both the button and letter from the apartment during a one-on-one conversation, but she wasn’t sure about the other man.

She’d go to the barracks later and talk to Tanner in private and hopefully he’d understand why she’d kept the letter and the button.

***

Soft fur against her cheek woke Gladwynn the next morning. Without opening her eyes she reached a hand up and touched the soft head of the cat she knew was Scout. The pushy feline had started waking her up for cuddles around 5:30 every morning about a week ago. Gladwynn  certainly hoped that wasn’t what was happening now because if she was woken up too much, she knew she’d lay awake thinking about the case instead of sleeping like she needed to.

She’d already been up past 1 a.m. thinking about the letter from Samantha’s mother. She was still wondering if Mary Kendall was Samantha’s mother. Just because she was listed as the next of kin didn’t mean she was, of course. She decided she would search the woman’s name online after breakfast and put that research librarian past to good use.

There were probably thousands of women in the United States with the same name. Vince had said Samantha had originally been from the Chicago area though so that should narrow it down.

Even if she did find the right Mary Kendall, she had no idea what she’d say to the woman. Ask her if she was Samantha’s mother or who Samantha’s father was?

Scout began to softly purr as Gladwynn caressed her and before long Gladwynn’s eyelids grew heavier, the purring lulling her into a relaxed state. She woke again sometime later at the sound of a knock at her door.

“Gladwynn? Sweetie? Are you okay?”

She sat up quickly, sending Scout jumping from her chest and onto the floor.

The door creaked open and Lucinda peered inside. “You’re usually up by now so I thought I should check.”

Gladwynn looked at her clock. Eleven? How had she slept so late?

She dragged her hand through her hair and yawned. “It’s a good thing I work late shifts most days. I’m apparently not a morning person anymore.”

Lucinda stepped into the room and looked at Scout. “It’s probably that beast’s fault. She’s constantly settling in on me when I need to be doing something else and dragging me down into a very inconvenient nap.”

Gladwynn sat up on the elbows. “Yes, actually it was her fault this time, but she can’t help being sweet.”

The cat sauntered from the room, her tail twitching as if in appreciation of Gladwynn’s compliment.

“Anyhow,” Lucinda rolled her eyes. “Doris and I are heading to the Y for our water aerobics class. Also, your father just called. He’ll be here later tonight.”

She turned to walk from the room. Gladwynn sat up straighter in the bed. “Later tonight? Are you serious? That’s not very much warning, is it?”

“Apparently the conference starts next Monday and he wanted a few days to visit before he goes.”

Gladwynn leaned back against her pillows, folding her arms across her chest, and pushing her lower lip out. “I don’t understand what lawyers have to conference about anyhow. I think it’s just an excuse to get together and play golf.”

Lucinda paused in the doorway. “They have to meet to discuss changes in laws and policies. It makes sense to me. Now, I won’t be here when he gets here but I’ve left a casserole in the fridge for you to warm up for him.”

“I won’t be here either.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have a meeting.”

“I don’t but I do have stories to finish up before deadline.”

“You’ll be home for dinner, though, won’t you?”

“It would be easier if I could just work through dinner.”

“It’s up to you. I’ll text your father and let him know to let himself in and warm the casserole up himself. It’s not like he doesn’t know where to find things.”

Gladwynn sat up again. “Grandma, have you told Dad about you and Jacob?”

Lucinda leaned against the doorframe and scrunched her face up in thought. “Um. No, actually I don’t think that came up.”

Gladwynn’s eyebrows rose and she tilted her head to one side. “You didn’t tell your son that you are dating a man who was a friend of your son’s late father and a deacon in the church?”

Lucinda shrugged. “Like I said, the topic just didn’t come up. Plus, I’ve told you, Jacob and I are not dating. Dating is for the young. We are simply –”

Gladwynn tossed the blanket aside and stood. “Spending time together, I know, but don’t you think Dad is going to have questions when Jacob shows up for breakfast for dinner? Or did you tell Jacob to stay away during his visit?”

Lucinda laid a hand on her chest and looked offended. “Me tell a grown man what to do? I can’t imagine such a thing. Jacob can visit when he wants to. If your father has a problem with a friend of mine coming to breakfast or dinner then that’s his issue, not mine or Jacob’s.” She raised two fingers. “Now, two things before I leave. One, did you drop that letter off to Tanner and two, can you swing by Luke’s on your way to work and drop of a casserole dish I have of his?”

Gladwynn yawned and stretched her arms over her head. “I haven’t taken the letter to Tanner yet, no, and why do you have Luke’s casserole dish?”

“He made a dish for the church board meeting last week and I swept it up by accident and took it home with my dishes.” She turned to walk back down the hallway. “I gave him a call and said I would bring it by today but I forgot about aerobics, volunteering to read to the elderly at the nursing home, and the library board meeting I have at 5. It’s a dinner meeting this month.”

Gladwynn didn’t have the heart to tell her grandmother that she most people would consider her elderly as well. She followed Lucinda into the hallway. “I thought you had a library board meeting last week already.”

Lucinda kept walking, turning into her room. “That was the advertising committee of the board. This is the full board.”

Gladwynn stood in the doorway of Lucinda’s room and watched Lucinda pick up her pink and purple duffle bag. “How big is this board?”

Lucinda swung the bag on her shoulder. “Big enough to get the job done. The dish is on the counter downstairs. Do you know where Luke’s place is?

“Isn’t it the small house next to the church that you and Grandpa started out in?”

Lucinda walked past her. “Oh no, Luke doesn’t live there. The church is renting it out to the youth pastor who just got married. Luke lives out of town, near Laddsburg. He has the most beautiful cottage he built by the – well, you’ll see.” She turned abruptly, walked back to Gladwynn and kissed her cheek quickly “Thank you so much. This means a lot.”

Gladwynn tossed her hands up in exasperation. “Grandma, you didn’t give me any directions. I have no idea where I’m going.”

“It’s right on Templeton Road,” Lucinda said as she started down the stairs. “On the righthand side after the Black Walnut Baptist Church. No. Wait. It’s a little off Templeton Road technically. You take a little road to the right called Dewdrop Lane and Luke is right on Dewdrop, which isn’t really a lane, it’s a dirt road but the lady who used to live on that road asked the county to name it – never mind. I’ll tell you that story another time. I’m late dropping some books off to Franny Wilson who wants to look at them for a possible Bible study for our ladies group in the fall.”

If Lucinda thought Gladwynn couldn’t see through her obvious attempt to set her and Luke up then she must really have thought she was blind. There was no way Lucinda accidentally took that casserole dish home. Lucinda kept track of her dishes like they were her children and there was no way she would mistake someone else’s dish for her dish.

“Grandma. I really don’t have time to —”

“Thank you, sweetie!” Lucinda reached for her purse on the table by the front door. “Love you!”

Gladwynn stood at the top of the stairs with her mouth open, sleep still in her eyes, her arms hanging at her side.

“What just happened?” she asked herself as she staggered back to her room to look for her clothes for the day.

Half an hour later while finishing her breakfast slash lunch, she remembered she had an appointment with the superintendent of the school district that afternoon to talk about a new anti-bullying initiative and then a photograph at the local Catholic school with the winners of the school spelling bee. She also had a staff meeting at 4.

Maybe she could drop the casserole dish off tomorrow instead.

If she didn’t drop it off today, though, her grandmother would ask her why she didn’t drop it off and probably in front of her father. Then her father would ask who Luke was and then – She really didn’t want to think about it.

She would just leave now and take Luke his casserole dish. There was a good possibility he wouldn’t be home anyhow. It was the middle of the day. He was probably at the church doing church stuff or at the hospital ministering to sick people or saving children from a fire since he was also a member of the Brookstone Volunteer Fire Department. Whatever he was doing it was probably noble and righteous in some way.

She glanced at her yellow sun dress with white dots on it as she passed by the antique mirror in the downstairs hallway between the kitchen and living room. She paused and spun around once, a straw sun hat in her hand, the bottom of the skirt flaring out in a very satisfying way. The yellow heels she’d found for less than five dollars at the local loan closet matched the dress perfectly.

Bouncing her freshly curled hair against her palm she pursed her lips in the mirror and then froze. What in the world was she doing? Was she actually making sure she looked good before she went to see Luke? She laid a hand against her eyes and shook her head. Taking a deep breath she snatched her purse from the hook by the door and snatched her keys from the key holder, walking briskly into the sunlight with a good dose of disappointment in herself