“There she is,” Gracie hugged Paisley and then handed her a glass of orange juice. “Did you remember to pack your homework into your backpack?”
“I did,” Paisley answered. “What time are you going to see my grandma?”
“Eleven-thirty.”
“Don’t forget to take the card I made for her.”
Gracie set a plate with egg casserole and toast in front of Paisley. “I won’t forget. I put it right next to my purse, so I’d be sure to remember to bring it.”
“Maybe you can talk to her doctor about letting her come home.” Paisley scooted her food around on her plate but wasn’t really eating it. “I can take care of her. I know what to do. Before my mom died, she said I was the best nurse she’d ever had.”
Gracie’s face softened. “I’ll try to find out what’s going to happen next, but I suspect that it might be a while before your grandma is able to come home. She needs the sort of care she can only get in a hospital.”
Paisley pushed her plate to the center of the table.
“Aren’t you hungry this morning?” Gracie asked.
“My stomach hurts. Is it okay if I go upstairs and get my stuff? I don’t want to be late for school.”
“Certainly,” Gracie answered. “I’ll put an apple and a granola bar in your backpack in case you end up getting hungry before lunch.”
Paisley scooted out of her chair and headed up the stairs.
“She’s really worried about what’s going to happen to her if her grandmother doesn’t come home,” I said after she left.
“I know,” Gracie poured a second cup of coffee for herself and sat down at the table. “And I guess I don’t blame her. She’s only eleven, and her grandmother has been her anchor ever since her mother was diagnosed with cancer. Paisley is very bonded to her. It’s going to be hard on both of them if Ethel isn’t able to continue to care for her.”
“I suppose you might want to bring the subject up when you see Ethel today,” I said. “I’m sure Paisley’s care has been on her mind.”
“I’m sure it has,” Gracie replied. “It’s a difficult situation, but these things have a way of working themselves out. Tom and I won’t be back in time to pick Paisley up from school, so you’ll need to see to that.”
“I was planning on it.” I scooted my chair back and stood up. “I guess I should grab my stuff, so Paisley isn’t late.” I kissed Gracie on the cheek. “Once you speak to Ethel and her doctor and get all the facts, we should talk and come up with some sort of a plan.”
“I think that’s a very good idea.”
Chapter 2
After I dropped Paisley off at school, I headed over to the library, where I hoped to speak to Hope Mansfield about the haunted barn for the Halloween Festival. In addition to being the local librarian, Hope was the volunteer coordinator for the community.
“Morning, Hope,” I greeted, pausing to nod toward the group of volunteers who were working their magic with Halloween decorations.
“Callie.” She smiled, setting aside the construction paper pumpkins she’d been cutting out. “I’m glad you’re here. Did you get my message about the time change for the barn decorating party?”
“I did, and nine o’clock will be fine. Did you end up with enough people to get things handled in one day?”
“I think so.” She reached under the counter and took out a list. “I have to admit that only having one day to do everything has left me pretty tense, but Nora got on the phone and rounded up a few additional volunteers, which should bring us up to the minimum number we need to get everything done.”
Nora Nottaway owned Nottaway General Store along with her husband, Ned. She’d been battling cancer but seemed to be doing a lot better.
“I could use a few additional people to work the event itself, however, so let me know if you think of anyone,” Hope added.
“I can’t think of anyone offhand, but I’ll let you know if I think of someone. Did you put up a notice on the community bulletin board?”
“I did. I thought I might go out to the senior center and see if anyone there wants to help with the ticket sales.” Hope looked up as a group of high school students walked in through the front door. “Maybe I should talk to the principal at the high school as well. We have utilized older teens in the past to help out with crowd control.”
“Maybe one of the service clubs.” I leaned an elbow on the counter, which had been decorated with autumn garland and bright yellow pumpkins. “By the way, I love all the decorations you set out, but I really love the Halloween themed fantasy scene you painted on the wall in the reading room. I noticed it right away when I walked in.”
“My new assistant did everything.” Hope waved to a woman in a gray wool skirt topped with a dark green sweater. “I want you to meet her as long as you’re here.” We waited as she walked toward us. “Vonda Robertson, this is Callie Collins.”
“I’m happy to meet you,” I smiled at the woman with short blond hair with light brown lowlights, which did a lot to offset her huge brown eyes, full lips, and high cheekbones.
“You work at the newspaper,” she said after we shook hands. “I’ve read your columns. They are really very good.”
“Thank you. I enjoy writing them. They help me to feel connected both to myself and to the community.”
“Have you always wanted to be a journalist?” she asked.
“Not at all. In fact, until a year ago, I was a concert pianist, but after a car accident left me with a permanent injury to one hand, I decided to move back to Foxtail Lake. I wasn’t certain what I wanted to do with my life when I first arrived, but I sort of fell into the newspaper thing.”
“Well, you’re a natural.” She grinned. “Your columns are warm and entertaining. Reading them feels like sitting down with a close friend and learning about their latest adventures.”
“Thank you so much,” I said. “That means a lot.”
“Will you be doing another holiday series like you did this past Christmas?” she asked. “I think I loved those columns most of all.”
I really hadn’t thought that far ahead and told the woman as much, but it had been fun researching Secret Santa last year. Maybe I could dig up another feel-good Christmas piece to feature this year, perhaps either the annual toy drive or the food baskets that were given to Foxtail Lake residents who seemed to be having a hard time making their own Christmas miracle happen.
Vonda and I chatted for a few more minutes, then she wandered off to help the teens who seemed to have congregated in the reference section, and I returned my attention to Hope. “She seems nice.”
“She is. The customers really like her, and so far, she’s done a wonderful job with the book clubs. I know you usually volunteer at the animal shelter on Tuesdays, but if you ever have time, you should come by and join our mystery lovers group. We have a very involved membership, and they actually seem interested in solving both real and fictional mysteries. You’d fit right in.”
“Real mysteries?” I asked. I had to admit the idea intrigued me.
“It’s not like the group physically investigates anything, but there have been a few instances when they’ve chosen to read true crime books relating to an unsolved murder or kidnapping. I can think of one incident in particular where one of the members postulated a theory as to what might actually have occurred, which caused several others to jump in with their own ideas. The group spent weeks digging up old news articles, trying to figure out what the police couldn’t. I’m not saying they solved the crime, but they sure had fun trying, and they did come up with some interesting theories.”