Talk of the Town (23 page)

He nodded. “We never got around to seeing one.”

“Would you still like to? There’s one in Riverton today. It’ll be there all week, in fact. It’s an indoor flea market slash antique sale.”

“That would be interesting. Thank you, Alice, I would love to. When would you like to leave?”

“How about ten?”

“Ten it is.” He turned and headed for the door to the hallway. “I’ll meet you in the foyer then.”

“Don’t forget your jacket,” Alice called after him. “It’s supposed to be warm today but that could change.”

Jane was methodically rinsing dishes, and Alice began loading the dishwasher. “Don’t let him tire himself out.”

Alice chuckled. “Yes, nurse.”

Jane blushed. “Well, you know what I mean. I know you’ll keep an eagle eye on his health.”

“So have you forgiven him?”

“I think so,” she said. “Every once in a while, a little kernel of anger pops up, but I do believe he’s sincerely contrite.”

“I do too,” Alice said. “It would have been much easier for him not to tell us, ever. After all, who would have known?”

“I think perhaps I might have liked not knowing,” Jane said wryly.

Louise came into the kitchen then, carrying a basket of fresh daffodil blooms and the vase from the hallway with a bouquet of rather sad-looking flowers. “I felt as if my name were Jane, puttering about in the garden.”

Her sisters laughed.

“Two Janes in one family would be problematic,” Alice said.

Louise smiled. “The tulips are doing nicely.”

“I love tulips,” Jane and Alice said in unison. They looked at each other and laughed.

“That’s a very pretty scarf, Jane,” said Louise.

“Thank you.” Jane was wearing a yellow shirt and pants, and around her neck she had tied a beautiful paisley scarf in shades of yellow, green and brown. It had called her name the day she’d seen it in a store in California, and she’d gone back for it three days later after thinking about it constantly.

Alice said, “I’m going to run to the store before Maxwell and I leave for the flea market. Do you need anything?”

Each of her sisters shook her head.

“No,” said Jane, “but before you leave, I have a proposal to make to both of you.”

“A proposal? This sounds serious.” Alice took a seat at the table while Louise walked to the sink with the flowers.

“I got to thinking about Clothilda,” Jane said, “and her financial concerns for her family if they do bring her grandchild over to this area for evaluation or treatment. What would you think of offering them a week’s lodging here?”

Alice sat up straight. “Oh, Jane, what a good idea.”

“It’s a thoughtful one,” Louise pronounced, “if we can afford to do it.”

Jane grimaced. “I know. That worried me too, but I believe we could manage. Not indefinitely, of course, but I thought a week would be helpful to them.”

“I should think so,” Louise responded.

“What a lovely gesture,” said Alice. “I vote yes.”

“As do I.” Louise stopped arranging flowers in the vase. “Who wants to tell her?”

“Why don’t we all tell her?” Jane suggested. “Her niece is returning tomorrow to pick her up. I could make up a gift certificate on the computer and we could present it to her before she goes.”

“Excellent idea,” Louise said.

“Thank you, Jane,” said Alice. “Just let us know what time she is leaving so we can arrange to be here.”

Wednesday morning, Alice walked into the Coffee Shop around ten o’clock and picked up a copy of the
Acorn Nutshell
. Before she could pay for it, Hope came whizzing by with a tray loaded with food. The waitress paused long enough to say, “Check out the front page.”

Alice slipped onto a stool at the counter and unfolded the newspaper.
ACORN HILL HOAX
read the headline. She groaned inwardly. She had hoped Carlene would understand the sensitive nature of Maxwell’s confession and downplay it.

“Hey, Alice, want a cup of tea?” Hope returned and stopped near her.

“Sure. I may need it after I read this article.”

Hope smiled. “It’s not that bad. His statement will go a long way toward softening any hard feelings people may have.”

His statement? Really curious now, Alice began to read. Carlene went through the sequence of events that led to the Bigfoot theory. The newspaper editor simply reported the facts. Near the end of the article, Alice found out what Hope had meant.

Carlene reported that Maxwell had prepared a statement, which she printed in its entirety. Alice read every word.

… In my zeal to create a research experiment to discover whether urban dwellers react differently from those in rural areas to rumors of extraordinary events, I went too far in creating the Bigfoot hoax. I made the tracks and planted the hair that was found. I deeply regret my deception. The people of Acorn Hill have shown me hospitality, kindness and friendship such as I have never experienced before. For the first time in my life, I have enjoyed the bonds of community. I recognize that my actions were a breach of trust, and I humbly ask your forgiveness.

Alice looked up from the article as someone tapped her on the shoulder. Florence stood directly behind her.

“Well?” the older woman demanded.

Alice raised an eyebrow in her best imitation of Louise, who could intimidate anyone with that expression when she so chose. “Well what?” she repeated.

“What do you think?” Florence asked. “Of the article?” Alice glanced back down at the newspaper. “I think he’s young, he’s poorly acquainted with true friendship, and he’s extremely sincere. I think he will never do something like this again.”

Florence mulled over Alice’s words, and Alice prepared for a blast of ire. Finally, Florence said, “I guess you’re right.”

“I am?” Alice was stunned. “Does that mean you’re not angry with him anymore?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Florence sniffed, “but I suppose I am willing to forgive and forget.”

Privately, Alice doubted the last part. Florence never forgot any perceived slight. But at least she was willing to take a step in the right direction. “That’s very generous of you, Florence.”

“It is,” agreed Florence with a self-righteous nod. “After all the trouble he put us through.”

Ronald, standing at his wife’s side, chuckled. “Oh, come on. Admit it. This is the most excitement we’ve had around Acorn Hill since the Y2K scare.”

“
Humph
. Another thing we could have done without,” grumbled Florence. But Alice noticed when Ronald put his arm around her and squeezed, she leaned into his shoulder and briefly rested her head against him. It appeared all would be well in the Simpsons’ world, Bigfoot or no Bigfoot.

When Alice got back to the inn, Maxwell was waiting for her in the hallway.

“Did you get the paper?” he asked in a rush. “How bad is it?”

Alice smiled as she handed over the newspaper. “Not bad at all. Even Florence agreed that you deserve forgiveness.”

Maxwell’s head jerked up from the paper. “Are you serious? I heard she wanted to tar and feather me.”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t still annoyed,” Alice cautioned. “But she’s softening.”

“Hey.” Jane poked her head out of the living room. “Alice, could you come in here? We want to tell Clothilda about our offer.”

“Coming.”

Maxwell started up the stairs. “I guess I’ll read this and see if it really is safe for me to walk into town. Thanks, Alice, for everything.”

Ethel was in the living room with Jane, Louise and Clothilda when Alice arrived.

The sisters had tried every gentle hint in their repertoire to encourage Ethel to take her leave, but it was as if she sensed something was up, and she wasn’t about to miss it.

Alice barely had taken a seat when Louise said to Clothilda, “Alice, Jane and I have something we would like to talk to you about.”

Clothilda’s eyebrows rose, and a moment later, her forehead wrinkled. “Did I do the something wrong?”

“No, no.” Jane leaned forward and patted the woman’s hand. “You have done everything just right.”

“We—” She glanced at Ethel. “—sisters have been talking and we have an offer to make to you. If and when the time comes to bring your granddaughter here for evaluation or treatment, we would like to provide you with a week’s free lodging here at the inn.”

Jane rose, took an envelope from the mantel and walked to Clothilda’s side. “Here,” she said, extending the envelope. “This is a gift certificate. It is good for one room for a week, and you can redeem it anytime.”

“Although,” said Louise hastily, “it is helpful to have as much advance notice as possible so that we can reserve a room for you before the inn fills up.”

Clothilda slowly took the envelope from Jane, looking at it in disbelief as her eyes filled with tears. “You ladies,” she said, “have been so kind. God smiled on me when I greeted you.”

“Met you,” corrected Ethel gently. “When I met you.”

Clothilda laughed. “Thank you, Ethel. Without you, I would have had the more difficult time speaking English.” She rose and embraced each sister in turn, thanking them individually.

Ethel cleared her throat. “Clothilda?”

When the German guest turned to her, Ethel smiled and said, “I can’t let my nieces show me up with their generosity.” She beamed at all three of them, then looked back at Clothilda. “When you bring Lotte over, I would be honored if you would allow me to purchase her airplane ticket.”

“Aunt Ethel!” Jane gasped. “That’s a wonderful thing to do.”

“Yes,” said Alice. “Extremely generous.”

Clothilda rose from her seat and grabbed Ethel in a firm embrace, her shoulders shaking. With her mouth muffled in the navy wool at the shoulder of Ethel’s spring sweater, she said, “You, dear friend, also are too kind. I will treasure you all forever.”

“As we will treasure you,” Ethel said in return.

The sisters smiled at each other, their own eyes misting.

“Goodness,” said Jane. “Aren’t we just a bunch of crybabies?”

“Apparently so,” Alice replied, dabbing at her eyes.

“Why don’t we take this party into the kitchen,” Jane suggested. “I just made a new batch of those crème-de-menthe brownies we all loved so much.”

“Excellent idea,” said Louise.

As one, they all walked toward the kitchen with Louise in the lead.

Suddenly Louise stopped and everyone else nearly plowed into her.

“What’s wrong?” Ethel asked as she stopped a pace away from Jane’s back.

Louise silently pointed.

There, sitting right in the middle of the table, was Wendell. There was no food in sight, but he looked perfectly at home. And quite pleased with himself.

“All right, you smarty pants,” said Louise. “You think you’re the king of the castle now, don’t you?”

“He
knows
he is,” corrected Alice, and she went to retrieve the fat feline from the table as the others began to laugh.

About the Author

A
nne Marie Rodgers has published nearly three dozen novels since 1992. She has been a finalist for the prestigious RITA award and has won several Golden Leaf awards, among others. In addition, she has been a teacher of handicapped and preschool children.

Anne Marie has been involved in animal-rescue efforts for many years, and her family is used to sharing their home with furred, finned and feathered creatures in need. After Hurricane Katrina, she volunteered at the Humane Society of Louisiana, caring for animals left behind during evacuation efforts. She and her loved ones also have raised puppies for Guiding Eyes for the Blind.

Anne Marie and her family live in State College, Pennsylvania. Her favorite activities include ice skating, needlework, amateur theater and dance, canine training, and scrapbooking. She considers irises, beaches and babies of any species some of God’s finest creations.