Hal and Tammy's Honeymoon. Sweet Suite

In another part of Chanceville Tammy Hendricks, wife of Hal Hendricks, owner of Hendricks Funeral Parlor and Wax Museum was so dissatisfied with her life that at age twenty-five, she was thinking of running away from home. Maybe she had that seven-year itch, that she had heard about.  Hal was ten years older than her. He was so old fashioned that he looked and acted more like fifty than forty. She couldn’t picture him as a little boy. He was one of those people who seemed to be born old. It wasn’t as if he were a bad man. He was kind and provided for her well. Hal didn’t believe women should work outside the home. She was just so bored out of her skull that she felt like screaming along with chiming of the courthouse clock every hour on the hour.

Her father had left Tammy and her mother when Tammy was only two. She had no memory of him. Her mother died when Tammy was 18. Hal was very sweet to her when she made her mother’s funeral arrangements. She was alone in the world and after the funeral he helped her to settle her mother’s affairs, what little there was to be settled. He spent a lot of time with her, holding her when she cried. Tammy told him she didn’t know what she would do without him. And she meant it. She was vulnerable and he knew it. A few months after her mother’s death, he offered to marry her and take care of her the rest of her life. In her fragile, naive state she agreed. She was only thinking of security and not what actually went on between a husband and wife.

They had a simple civil ceremony and went to Chicago on the train for their honeymoon. Tammy had never been out of Chanceville and Hal seemed like a man of the world to her. He had been to many funeral director conventions in the Windy City so he knew his way around. They took a cab to the Drake Hotel. Tammy was overwhelmed by the grandeur of it. When she saw the room with the beautiful big bed, it started to dawn on her that they would be occupying the same bed in a few hours.

“Shall we freshen up and get ready for dinner?” asked Hal. “I’ve made reservations in the best restaurant in the hotel.”

“There’s more than one?” she asked.

“Oh, my dear. There are several restaurants and private clubs. We will dine well tonight,” Hal answered. “And in the morning, I suggest room service for breakfast,” he said as a big smile appeared on his face.

Tammy wondered why he was looking at her that way. What was so amusing about room service? A sudden shiver went through her body. And like so many other important signals in her life, she chose to ignore it.

Tammy had no idea what most of the items on the menu were so Hal ordered for her. He was enjoying his role as mentor and didn’t make her feel like a hick. She was relieved he didn’t order anything exotic for her. Hal asked her if she liked chicken and when she said yes, he ordered something call cocoa van for both of them. She didn’t think chicken and cocoa sounded like much of a combination, but she would have to trust him as she did in most things. To her great relief, it turned out to be chicken and vegetables, she could manage that. He ordered wine with dinner. Tammy had never had wine before.

“I think there’s something wrong with this, Hal,” she said. “It tastes sour.”

“It’s not sour, it’s dry,” Hal said.

This puzzled her and she stuck her finger in the glass to test its “dryness”. This only served to endear her to him even more.

“Sorry. Dry means not sweet,” he said without judgment. Tammy didn’t see much point to a drink that wasn’t sweet, but she kept that to herself. She would have been happy with a Coca-Cola. It was clear to her that Hal was trying to make the evening really special.

Hal ordered Baked Alaska for dessert.

“What is Baked Alaska?” she asked him.

“Well, it’s basically baked ice cream,” he said as her blue eyes opened wide.

“Come on. Stop teasing me,” she said. “I’m no cook, (to Hal’s everlasting dismay, this was true) but even I know you can’t bake ice cream. Sounds like we’ll have to drink it.”

Hal just smiled.

It was at this point that they brought out the most beautiful thing Tammy had ever seen. The church ladies’ merengue could never hold a candle to this artfully sculpted delight.

Oh, Hal. This tastes as luscious as it looks,” she said, almost forgetting to swallow that first bite before speaking. Hal couldn’t have been more pleased.

When they had finished their coffee, Hal suggested they return to their room. Tammy was thinking that she wasn’t ready for the evening to end. Hal was thinking that the evening was just beginning.

Hal opened the door to their suite, carried her over the threshold, and placed her gently on the chaise lounge. He put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door and flipped the locks firmly. Then he went to the phone and ordered breakfast from room service for 8 a.m. without consulting her about what she would like to eat or what time. Hal thought she seemed to like it when he took charge.

While Hal was in the bathroom, Tammy was looking in her suitcase to see what he had packed for her. He had insisted on buying her all new clothes for their honeymoon. The first item she pulled out was a pale pink peignoir set. She held it up to the light. She could see the chandelier through it. She started to tremble. Just then, Hal emerged from the bathroom dressed in pajamas over which he wore a maroon silk dressing gown. Tammy had only seen men wear dressing gowns in movies. Her idea of Hal from Chanceville, Indiana didn’t fit with the sight she was seeing now. She started to giggle nervously. She was glad the dressing gown wasn’t monogrammed, or she would have been rolling on the floor by now. This was all just too much. Tammy realized too late, that it probably wasn’t good to laugh at your husband as he prepared for their wedding night.

“What is so funny?” he asked.

“Sorry, I’m just nervous. You look handsome,” she said looking at the floor.

“Oh,” he said, unconvinced. “Why don’t you go in the bathroom and get changed?

Tammy draped the peignoir set over her arm and took her toiletries bag into the bathroom with her. The big tub in the bath and the wonderful smelling bath salts made her decide to take a long, a very long hot bath. Meanwhile, Hal kept tapping on the door, checking on her and pacing on the expensive carpet impatiently. When she finally emerged from the bath, Hal was the one who started laughing and shaking his head.

“Oh, Tammy. How dear you are to me,” he said.

When Tammy had put on the flimsy peignoir set, she felt so exposed that she put the thick terrycloth robe provided by the hotel over the flimsy ensemble.

Hal had ordered champagne while Tammy was in the bath. He was hoping this would settle her nerves, he was willing to be patient, but hoped he wouldn’t have to be.

When he popped the cork on the champagne, Tammy jumped straight into the air. She definitely needs her nerves calmed, he thought. Hal poured them each a glass, handed hers to her and gently led her over to the bed.

“To my beautiful wife and many years of married bliss,” he said as they clinked their glasses.

She took a hesitant sip and decided she liked the bubbly sweetness. (Hal had learned his lesson and ordered a sweet Spumante.) After Tammy had finished her first glass, he took it from her; he didn’t want to take advantage. He sat it on the night table and gently began to ease that blasted heavy robe off her shoulders. Tammy was feeling warm and friendly and didn’t resist. Hal took off his dressing gown and they sat down on the edge of the bed together. Things progressed nicely until Tammy got to thinking about all of the dead people Hal had touched and she suddenly had her own case of rigor mortis. Well, at least that would feel familiar to him. 

Alpaca Strikes Out at the Jasmine Tea Room

Geraldine Nurse had hired Alpaca as her assistant at the Loone County Public Library on a three-month trial basis. When Alpaca reported for work the next morning, she took one look at the little smirk on Geraldine’s face and knew that she had already heard about what happened at the hospital with Milton, Mr. Matthews. She had seen that smirk before on the faces of some of the ladies in Saints of the Lakes when they found out she was leaving town.

The fact that everyone in Chanceville probably knew what she was up to wasn’t going to make her mission any easier, but she would not be deterred. She ran once. Never again.

Alpaca worked five days a week with Thursday mornings off. She had specifically requested this schedule and Geraldine Nurse the  County Librarian knew this wasn’t a random request. It appeared to Geraldine that Alpaca had a plan behind even the simplest of requests. Mrs. Nurse agreed to Thursdays off for Alpaca and couldn’t wait to find out why that special request had been made. And find out she would. The Chanceville Grapevine had never, ever let her down.

Of course, we can all guess where Alpaca would be on her Thursday mornings off. On her first morning off, at precisely 9:45 Alpaca strode into the White Jasmine Tea Room. She was wearing an understated gray suit with a tailored white blouse, matching gloves and a gray velvet bow headband perched in front of her tightly wound French twist. She wore three-inch heels; Alpaca enjoyed accentuating her height. Small pearl earrings and her watch were her only accessories. As soon as Mrs. Little saw Alpaca Finn make her entrance into the tearoom, she realized the day just got a good deal more interesting.

“Good morning, Miss Finn,” said Mrs. Little.  “I’ll show you to a table.” Miss Little enjoyed giving her customers the personal touch.

“That won’t be necessary, my dear,” replied Alpaca as she scanned the room for the table that would best suit her purposes. She chose the angled window in the front where she could see out onto the street to her right and the rest of the tearoom to her left. That was fine with Mrs. Little. The tearoom wasn’t too busy yet and wouldn’t put too much of a burden on either of the two waitresses. Besides, Mrs. Little was more than a lot curious about why Miss Finn chose that particular table.

Mayrose Mayhern arrived promptly at ten o’clock, as was her custom. By the time she was inside and the door had barely swung shut, Alpaca Finn swooped down on the unsuspecting Miss Mayhern.

“Oh, good morning, my dear,” twittered Alpaca. “I’m Miss Alpaca Finn, as you probably know. It’s so lovely to see you. Please join me at my table. I’d love to have tea with you and get to know you a little better since I’m now a permanent resident of Chanceville. I would love to have you attend one of my afternoon teas.”

It was about this time that Mr. Milton Matthews arrived. After he quickly assessed the situation, he stood with Mrs. Little behind the counter to watch the unfurling of Alpaca’s plan and the resistance with which it would surely be met.

Miss Mayrose Mayhern, dressed in her pearl pink suit, took exactly two steps back and looked Miss Alpaca Finn all the way up and then all the way down at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“No thank you, Miss Finn,” said Miss Mayhern. “That won’t be necessary.” Her words like icy swords cutting Alpaca to the quick.

Alpaca stood there as if frozen, along with everyone else in the tearoom. Well, except for Mayrose Mayhern who stepped lively on the way to her usual table in the back. If you had been a keen observer of Miss Mayhern over the years, you might have detected a microscopic upturn of the corners of her mouth. She couldn’t abide pushy people and as far as she was concerned, the equally obnoxious Mr. Matthews & Miss Finn were a matched pair.

Still stunned, Mrs. Little recovered herself as best she could, gently moved Milton to the side and went back to take Miss Mayhern’s order.

In spite of his less than positive opinion of Miss Finn, Milton felt a little sorry for her. He knew well the sting of Miss Mayrose Mayhern’s chilling blue stare and how painful that could be. But he knew better than to get in the middle of whatever that embarrassing display was. He decided it might be better to enjoy his tea at home today.

As Milton walked home and the shock of that scene wore off, he reached the realization of exactly what that scene was about, which made it even more ridiculous. Miss Trout er Miss Finn, whatever her fishy name was, apparently saw Miss Mayhern as a rival. He had no interest in Miss Finn whatsoever, even if Miss Mayrose Mayhern didn’t exist. As for, Miss Mayhern, he had to admit that he was more than a little intrigued.

Meanwhile, Miss Alpaca Finn went back to her table and sat down regally. This wasn’t the first time she had been publicaly humiliated and probably wouldn’t be the last. If Miss Mayhern thought Alpaca Finn was going to turn tail and run, she had better think again. She would simply outshine Miss Mayhern; she had lots of sleeves and lots of tricks. Everyone in Chanceville might as well pull up their chairs and enjoy the show.

The Many Thorns in Sara "Sugar Pant's" Petersen"s Side

Sara “Sugar Pants” Petersen had decided to become a volunteer at the Loone County Hospital. She hoped seeing people who were really sick might take her mind off the hot flashes that had been plaguing her lately. She had been working  there a month now and wasn’t sure if she would be able tolerate Mrs. Crabtree much longer. She always seemed to be there no matter what day Sara volunteered. How many times did that woman have to be told that she didn’t want to pray with her before they started their shifts? She believed in God, but was not one to waste His time on the little things. Sara knew that she had been short-tempered lately. She had been especially prickly since last week when she was washing windows in the vain hope that she could cheer herself up with sparkly windows. 

Her husband, Tim, had called her Sugar Pants since they were first married. She had always thought it was sweet and special, only for her, until that day when she was in the upstairs guest room washing the windows. She saw him in the back yard standing at the fence; she leaned out the window to ask him if he was ready to come in for lunch when she saw he was talking to their neighbor Althea Goodnight. She heard him say," Your rose garden is really outdoing itself this year, Sugar Pants".

She didn't wait to hear Althea's reply, but eased the window gently down and sat on the bed and cried hot tears. She cried at the least little things, but this didn't seem little; it seemed big, too big for her to accept, too big for her to let go of. Maybe she would just smother him in his sleep one night and bury him under those precious roses he admired so much. My God. What was wrong with her? Talk about over-reacting. But thinking about the plan made her feel better, gave her something to focus on besides the humdrumness of window washing and lunch making.

She guessed she was going through the change. She was about the same age as her mother was when she went through it. And the horror stories she remembers hearing when her mother and her friends got together for coffee every morning made her want to smother her own self with a pillow rather than go through this crazy-making phase of life.

The next day at the hospital Sara managed to extricate herself from Mrs. Crabtree and spent a pleasant afternoon chatting with patients and their families while handing out magazines and candy. She was wheeling her cart back to the volunteer office when she saw Mrs. Crabtree barreling down the hall, the old cart’s wheels protesting squeakily at its breakneck speed. Mrs. Crabtree’s face was so red that her pink circles of rouge had disappeared from her cheeks. She was huffing and puffing so much that Sara was afraid she was going to faint.

“What is wrong, Mrs. Crabtree? Are you all right?” asked Sara.

“Water. I need water,” gasped Mrs. Crabtree as she leaned on the cart.  Sara went to the water cooler and returned with a cup of water. She helped hold it for Mrs. Crabtree whose hands were shaking mightily.

‘There, that’s better. Thank you, my dear,” said Mrs. Crabtree.

“Do you need to see a doctor?” asked Sara.

“Oh, no! I just had a run in with that newcomer Milton Matthews and that creature who was visiting him,” answered Mrs. Crabtree.

“What on earth happened?” asked Sara, curious in spite of herself. It was about that time that Nurse Jackson and a nurse’s aid named RaeAnn came over to see what all of the commotion was about.

“Well, he was just plain rude. Imagine, not letting me pray for him,” said Mrs. Crabtree. The other three stifled laughs, not daring to look at each other.  “And the late Reverend Finn’s sister was there visiting. It looked like she had had her claws sharpened at the Lovely Locks Salon and was ready to sink them into Mr. Matthews. Even though he’s a heathen, I feel sorry for him if he falls into her web.”

Sara, Nurse Jackson, and RaeAnn scattered as quickly as they could when they realized Mrs. Crabtree’s personal peril was falling into a Pit of Judgmentalism.

The speed of sound would be the only measurement fast enough to explain how quickly the “Hospital Incident” spread around Chanceville after Mrs. Crabtree’s tirade to the women at the hospital.

Alpaca Hears It Through The Grapevine

Zinfandel Advocates

Alpaca Finn heard through the Chanceville Grapevine, which has been alive and well as long as Chanceville has been Chanceville that Milton Matthews was in the Loone County Hospital. All she could find out was that he had had minor surgery. The hospital was located near the parsonage so she decided to walk over there and pay him a visit. This would be her opportunity to show him what a caring person she was. It had not escaped her that he would be a captive audience. She was not one to pass up a chance to insert herself into eligible bachelors lives.

She took special care with her appearance that day; she chose a dark purple suit and a creamy white blouse to accentuate her dark eyes and hair. She had taken to wearing gloves after observing that Miss Mayrose Mayhern always wore gloves and Milton, seemed intrigued by that plain spinster. Fortunately, she had been to the Lovely Locks the day before and had those pesky gray hairs touched up. Her only jewelry was a modest gold watch given to her by an admirer before she left Saints of the Lakes.

It was a lovely autumn day, just right for a short walk. Even if it had been a scorcher, she wouldn’t have sweat. Alpaca never let anyone see her sweat. She stopped at the information desk and found out that Milton was in room 211. She made a quick stop in the ladies room to check her makeup and hair. Her hair was pulled back into such a tight French twist, that there was no way it could have moved. When she was satisfied with what she saw in the mirror, she made her way to Milton’s room. She reminded herself that she should quit thinking of him as Milton, lest that slip out. For now, it was Mr. Matthews.

She tapped lightly on his door and walked on in. He was asleep, so she sat down quietly and waited, taking this opportunity to give him a thorough looking over. She liked what she saw. His white hair glowed in the sun that was shining through the window. She remembered his warm brown eyes from their encounter in the stationery store. His hands looked soft and uncalloused. Alpaca was about to reach for his hand when Nurse Jackson came in to check his vitals. They were both surprised to see each other.

“Oh, I didn’t know Mr. Matthews had company,” said the nurse. She had heard through that Chanceville Grapevine that Miss Finn was on a mission to find a husband and was immediately suspicious of the visitor’s motives.

“Mr. Matthews is a dear friend and I felt it my duty to call on him to find out how he is faring,” replied Alpaca.

“Of course,” said Nurse Jackson, not believing a word of it.

Milton woke up when Nurse Jackson put the blood pressure cuff on him. He smiled at her and closed his eyes again. He had had an emergency appendectomy in the early hours of that morning and was still pretty groggy.

“You have a visitor, Mr. Matthews,” said the nurse.

Milton looked over expecting to see his brother or sister-in-law; he flinched and then winced in pain when he saw Alpaca sitting there dressed to kill, an analogy that scared him.

“Why are you here, Miss Trout?” asked Milton, trying to make sense of this through the fog of pain medication.

“It’s Miss Finn, Mr. Matthews. Of course, it’s not unexpected for you to be a little fuzzy after what you’ve been through,” said Alpaca going on a fishing expedition.

“What have I been through?” asked Milton, not taking the bait. Nurse Jackson smiled to herself, thinking that Miss Finn had met her match.

“Well, you know, your illness,” said Alpaca, casting out once again.

“Oh, that,” said Milton as he closed his eyes. Alpaca thought she detected a sly smile. This wasn’t going to be easy. That’s okay, she thought, I like a challenge.

Nurse Jackson finished recording Milton’s vitals and told him everything looked good.

“I’ll be back later to check on you,” she said.

“Make it soon,” he mumbled and gave her a wink before closing his eyes again.

Alpaca cleared her throat and stood up. Milton opened his eyes in anticipation that this woman might be leaving. Instead she laid a book on his hospital tray. “I brought you this book, The Fascinating History of Chanceville, Indiana. I have one myself and I did, indeed, find it fascinating,” she told Milton.

“That’s very kind of you, but there’s no need to bring me a gift,” said Milton.

“It’s my pleasure. I’m sure, after what you’ve been through, you’ll need something to distract you until you’re able to return home,” she said, continuing to cast. Of course, she had plans to nurse him back to health once he was released from the hospital. And somehow through the haze, Milton beat her to the punch.

“I’ll be going to Celia and James’ once I’m released. I’ll enjoy sharing this book with them,” he said, simultaneously bursting her bubble of caring for him and making her gift  totally impersonal. In spite of that, she sat back down. He was about to tell her he was tired and wanted to sleep when Mrs. Crabtree, notorious hospital volunteer, came in with her cart of magazines and candy supplied by the Hospital Volunteer Fund. Milton let out an inadvertent groan. Hadn’t he been tortured enough today? He had heard all about Miss Crabtree at the Tipp Top Diner.

Homco Bisque Porcelain Bell

“GOOD AFTERNOON, Mr. Matthews,” said Mrs. Crabtree, who was quite deaf and, apparently, thought everyone else was, too.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Crabtree,” mumbled Milton futilely trying not to engage her.

“Is there something on the cart you’d like?” she asked.

In order to get rid of her quickly, Milton pointed to a fishing magazine.

“Of course,” she said. “As soon as we pray for your speedy recovery.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he said.

“Of course it is. Only the Lord can heal. Only the Lord can give me permission to give you this magazine,” she said.

“Then I guess the “Lord” doesn’t want me to have this magazine, because I don’t want to be prayed over, or preyed upon,” he said, looking at Alpaca, who shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

At that, Mrs. Crabtree whirled her cart around running over Alpaca’s highly polished black leather pump mumbling something about heathens and their concubines.

“I’m very tired and in some pain,” said Milton as he rang for the nurse. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

“Of course,” she said. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you.”

“That’s not necessary at all. My brother and sister-in-law are keeping a close eye on me. Thank you for the book. I’m sure we’ll enjoy it.”

Even though she knew she was being dismissed, Alpaca walked over to Milton’s bed and tried to take his hand, which he immediately withdrew. She left without a word, but not without a plan.

The Blind Poodle Sisters

Everyone in Chanceville knew The Blind Poodle sisters, Annette and Babette and didn’t pay much attention to their eccentricities, but Alpaca Finn was fascinated with them when they came into the Lovely Locks Beauty Salon. They came in all cheery and laughing; honking the bicycle horns attached to their white canes and announcing loudly that the Blind Poodle sisters had arrived, as if people didn’t recognize them. 

Their big brown eyes, longish noses, and curly blonde hair did not make them look unlike the canine whose name they bore. Alpaca, who never missed a detail, noticed a little blond fuzz above each of their upper lips. Linda Lou had put Alpaca under the dryer and she and Misty Mae quickly went to work on Annette and Babette respectively. The sisters simultaneously crooked their index fingers and had Misty Mae and Linda Lou bend down as they whispered in their hairdressers’ ears. Alpaca was certain she was missing out on some juicy gossip, which her own canine-like hearing would certainly have been able to pick up if not for that noisy hair dryer.  

The sisters’ hair just needed a quick trim and they had gone on their merry way, arm-in-arm, by the time Alpaca got out from under the dryer. 

It was a real scorcher out and the twins wore, to Alpaca’s mind, extremely skimpy sundresses, much too risqué for ladies who appeared to be in their mid-forties.

“Um, Linda Lou, who were those two women and who on earth dresses them?” asked Alpaca.

Annette’s dress was made of a print of giant sunflowers and Babette’s was of giant roses. They wore multiple strands of bright plastic beads and big hoop earrings and to Alpaca’s utter horror; the twin’s legs were bare and quite hairy. 

 “Those were the Blind Poodle sisters,” said Linda Lou. “They’ve been blind since they were ten and they can still remember how they loved bright colors, so they have their maid, Poppy, buy the loudest, most garish clothes and accessories she can find. They like to make a statement.” 

“They certainly do that”, said Alpaca. “They actually have a maid?”

“Oh, yes. Their daddy, Melvin Poodle, everyone called him Muddy, was the richest man in Chanceville. He owned Poodle’s Pie Factory and Poodle’s Five and Dime. Their mama believed twins were unlucky and she ran away with a handsome traveling preacher right after the twins were born. Muddy never remarried so Annette and Babette were his only children and Daddy left them a bundle. I guess he’s been gone about six years now. They live in that big brick mansion on the corner of Main Avenue and Main Street, across the street from where the church used to be,” said Linda Lou. “You know, the one with the twin poodle statues on the front porch.” 

“I could hardly miss it. Those statues are pink!” said Alpaca, shaking her head.

 Linda Lou poked Alpaca in the back of the head with her comb and told her to hold still. 

“Every time I walk by there, it looks like there’s a party going on,” Alpaca added. 

“Muddy Poodle, wasn’t in the family mausoleum a day, before the twins made Bunny paint those statues,” Linda Lou explained. “Muddy would have had a fit. He sent all the way to Paris, France for those statues. He kept a tight rein on his daughters, what with them being blind and all, always worrying hisself silly over them girls. They didn’t waste any time kickin’ up their heels after Muddy passed.”

“I noticed they were bare legged and um, not exactly well groomed in the leg and underarm department,” said Alpaca. 

“Oh, they like to be au natural, if you know what I mean”, said Linda Lou winking.

“You mean, they don’t wear undergar..?”

“Not a stitch!” said Linda Lou. 

Milton's New Baby and Alpaca Lands a Job

Milton liked the looks of the Underwood Noiseless model, but he also kind of liked the friendly clacking of the typewriter keys when he got on a roll with his story writing. The Remington Deluxe was more his style, sleek and low to the ground. He asked Mr. Williams if he could take it for a spin and Mr. Williams quickly produced a sheet of paper for practice. Milton only had to type out one sentence to know that the Remington Deluxe was his new baby. He left the shop whistling, excited to get home with his brand new typewriter and a ream of off-white bond paper to hold his words. 

When Milton turned the corner and passed the White Jasmine Tea Room, he couldn’t help but look in the window to see if Mayrose Mayhern was in her usual spot, although he never knew her to be there any other time than Thursday mornings at 10:00 a.m. Instead, he saw Llama Trout, or whatever her name was. Strange lady, he thought. And that was the last thought Milton had about Alpaca Finn for quite some time. 

Alpaca saw Milton walk by and thought she perceived his step quicken a bit when he saw her sitting in the tearoom. Her list of eligible bachelors was quickly dwindling, several candidates whom she thought had potential turned out to be real duds, but Milton, to her mind, still had great potential. 

All she had to do was figure out the key to getting his attention. She would start with making his sister-in-law Celia her new best friend, but first she had more urgent business to take care of. She needed to find a job. The money Darrell Davis had given her before she left Saints of the Woods would soon run out. She probably shouldn’t have taken the money but he felt guilty about her reputation being ruined when his wife and then, the other ladies in town found out he had been sneaking around with her. That was the only thing he could think of to do when he found out Alpaca was leaving town.

Geraldine loved her job at the Loon County Library, but she had worked there for twenty-five years and every day was the same as the next. The only new thing in her life was Alpaca Finn’s tea parties. Geraldine loved a good mystery and her innate curiosity told her that the late Reverend Finn’s sister was up to something. It kept her coming back. She’d known the other ladies most of her life and none of them ever had anything new to say at Alpaca’s little soirees. It was always the same old gossip, but the tea and pastries were excellent and she enjoyed sitting back and watching Alpaca work the room. 

At last week’s tea party, Trachea Carmichael, Old Doc Trueblood’s nurse had to help doc with an emergency so she didn’t make it to the tea party, which made her fair game. Everyone agreed they hoped she didn’t bring her usual dried out baked beans to the church picnic on the 4^th of July and they certainly couldn’t be washed down with the oh so sour lemonade she made. It tasted like she used one shriveled old lemon for the whole pitcher and salt instead of sugar.

Geraldine never joined in on the gossip; she also never missed a tea party because she didn’t want to be the target of their barbs. She enjoyed sitting back, arms folded, watching Alpaca steer the conversation back to the menfolk of Chanceville. 

“Celia, what is your brother-in-law, Milton’s, favorite pie?” asked Alpaca. 

Celia looked puzzled, but answered, “I believe it’s gooseberry. Why do you ask?”

“I heard that Sunday is his birthday and I thought I would bring his favorite pie to the picnic.”

“Sounds good, " said Celia. To Celia’s knowledge, Alpaca didn’t even know Milton, but she had observed that Alpaca only revealed things in her own good time. 

Alpaca then turned her attention to Geraldine Nurse. Here it comes thought Geraldine. Alpaca had been buttering Geraldine up ever since the late Reverend Trout Finn’s funeral. As time went on Geraldine could see that nearly all of Alpaca’s line of questioning had something to do with the menfolk of Chanceville. What Geraldine couldn’t figure out was why Alpaca was so nice to her. She had no brother, dad or uncle and her son, Nathan, the doctor, was way too young for Alpaca. 

“Geraldine, what a lovely dress you’re wearing today. Is that new?” asked Alpaca as she topped off Geraldine’s tea and offered a delicate flowered saucer filled with tiny lemon wedges.

“Thanks, Alpaca. It’s not new. I wear it quite frequently,"  said Geraldine as she waved the lemon wedges away, thinking to herself, “Get to the point, Alpaca”. She knew Alpaca never missed a detail and that her frequent wearing of that dress would be discussed if she ever missed a tea party.

“Well, it always looks fresh and pretty on you, dear," said Alpaca as she set the saucer back on the teacart. “Not like that threadbare cotton print Annie Pat wears to every function she attends. You’d think wages at the Shop-A-Lot would allow her to afford a new frock once in a while.”

Geraldine wasn’t going to bite on that one. She knew that Annie Pat had a brother who couldn’t keep a job and that’s where most of her money went. She certainly wasn’t one to talk behind people’s backs and Annie Pat was a good friend of hers and what she did with her money was no one else’s business. Geraldine sat back, folded her arms, and waited for Alpaca’s next move. She didn’t have to wait long. Alpaca looked around the room and it seemed that everyone was happily engaged in conversation and enjoying their tea and ladyfingers. 

Alpaca cleared her throat, “How are things going at the library?” 

On the surface this seemed like a casual question, but there was nothing casual about Alpaca and Geraldine felt the weight of it. 

“Quiet as ever,” said Geraldine. 

“Well, I certainly hope you’re not working too hard, my dear," said Alpaca. 

Geraldine’s patience was starting to wear thin. She had just about had all of the “my dears” she could stand for one day and besides, there was no way she was this woman’s dear. 

“No, but I will be getting ready for the annual book fair soon.” And as soon as she said it, she knew that she had just given Alpaca her in. It was all she could do to keep from wincing.  

“As you know, I plan on making my home in Chanceville and will only be able to remain in the church parsonage until they sell it. I need to find a job as soon as possible so I can afford to move. I've had some experience working in our library in Saints of the Lakes. I would love to come to work for you, if you think I could be of service," she added looking demurely down at her well-manicured nails. 

Geraldine took a few minutes to mull this over. Her most recent assistant, MerryLynn Tarmack, had recently decided that the library was way too quiet for her and had gotten a job as waitress at Tony’s 24 Hour Mechanic and Roadhouse. Geraldine was in need of help. She needed someone organized and that seemed to be one of Alpaca’s strong suites. Once, when Geraldine had taken some of the tea things into the kitchen she had noticed that the spices were alphabetized. There were also little white labels taped to all the doors of the cupboards, as if there were hoards of people coming through the parsonage who didn’t have time to hunt for what they needed. Still, it was a form of cataloging and that was a good skill for a library worker. But the thing that cinched the deal was her distrust of Alpaca’s motives and she thought it would be a smart idea to keep an eye on Alpaca on behalf of the good people of Chanceville.