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.
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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
