Hometown Series Box Set

by Kirsten Fullmer

  “Should I feed Bella lunch?” Winnie asked, as Tara headed out.

  “That would be great, thanks Winnie,” Tara said over her shoulder as she pulled the door closed with a bang. She knew if Winnie or Julia had any idea what she was about to do, they’d try to stop her.

  Julia’s eye met Winnie’s across the island. “What do you suppose she’s up to?” Julia asked.

  Winnie shook her head. “Heaven only knows.”

  Tara backed out of the driveway and headed toward downtown. If she’d timed it right, and she hoped she had, Justin would be finishing his morning meeting about now and heading out to check on his projects. If he didn’t want to tell her what was on his mind, she’d just have to follow him and find out for herself.

  In stealth mode, she avoided main street and turned a few blocks from Justin’s office, taking back roads. Cautiously, she hunched over the wheel, her eyes darting back and forth, watching for Justin’s big yellow pickup truck.

  On the way to Winnie’s house, she’d formulated a plan, and she was determined to see it through. She’d park down the block from Justin’s office, behind the feed store, where she could see Justin’s truck leave his parking lot.

  Once she was pulled up next to the store, she put the car in park but left the engine running. Moments ticked past and she sighed, pulling out her phone to check the time. He should be coming by any minute. Then again, if he got a phone call or got into a discussion with Elliot, it could be another hour. Anxious, she chewed on a cuticle, her mind spinning through all manner of unacceptable, or even downright heartbreaking scenarios that she may find Justin engaged in.

  A few cars went past, and then Justin’s truck chugged by. Jumping to attention, she put the car in gear, counted to five, and looked both directions. Following a few cars back, she craned her neck to watch as Justin’s truck speed down the country highway, then turned onto the freeway on-ramp. It looked like he was heading for Waynesburg, and she glanced at her gas gauge. Did she have enough fuel to go that far?

  But then, just as she was sure she’d have to pull off for gas, his blinker came on and he exited the freeway. Where was he going? She didn’t know he had a project out here. Why had he not mentioned it? They used to talk about his projects, but now, sadly, the man was a mystery to her.

  She slowed, careful to stay far enough behind that he wouldn’t notice her. They were likely three miles from town by now, but she didn’t dare stop to pull up the navigation system and lose sight of the truck.

  Justin blinkered right as he slowed and pulled into a dirt lot in front of a metal garage type building.

  Tara wasn’t familiar with the place, but she didn’t usually come out this way. Unsure what to do, she passed the lot, afraid she’d be pulling in as he climbed from his truck. Half a mile down the road, she did a quick 13-point U-turn and headed back. His truck sat empty in the parking lot along with a few other cars, so she headed around the back of the building. It wouldn’t do to have him come out and see her car.

  As she drove past the side of the building, she realized it was a shop. Maybe this was Mac’s old garage -- the one Alex had taken over to restore old trucks and such. She’d heard about it but hadn’t had time to check it out. Why would Justin be here?

  Behind the building, she parked by a bush and opened her door. Apprehensive, she put out her leg and stood on one foot, straightening enough to see over the top of the car door. Which was ridiculous, because she could have seen the same scenery through the car window. Scoffing at her own silliness, she climbed out, and carefully closed the door behind her. Looking over one shoulder, then the other, she jogged sneakily toward the back of the building. This must indeed be Alex’s shop, because his truck was parked alongside various pieces of ancient machinery and a large dumpster.

  She bit at the inside of her cheek, wondering what to do next. The back of the place only had one door and one window, and the window was very dirty and too high to see through. She tiptoed over to peer around one side of the building, then the other, but neither side had a window.

  “Well, shoot,” she sighed. Her only option appeared to be that back window, unless she dared to crack the backdoor for a peek, which she didn’t. Knowing there was no other option, she eyed the dumpster. If she climbed up the side of the filthy thing, would she be able to see in? Yes, perhaps the dumpster’s position under the window would make her tall enough.

  Before she touched the mucky side of the dumpster, she hesitated, revolted. Couldn’t she just ask Justin where he’d been going, and why he didn’t have any time to be with her and Bella? Surely, he’d tell her where he’d been and which project was dominating his thoughts. Besides, Alex was a good guy. He wouldn’t purposely get Justin into any trouble. She backed away from the smelly trash bin.

  Then again, Justin hadn’t been at all forthcoming about his activities, and she’d asked too. Lots of times. And his phone had been ringing at strange hours. She frowned. His mind wasn’t with her and neither was his body. He had been missing in action for weeks. He’d been avoiding questions and shrugging off her worries. He hadn’t even noticed everything going on at the Inn with Blanche, and that wasn’t like him.

  Well, if he didn’t have the guts to tell her what he was up to, she’d just have to find out!

  Determined now to get on with it, she gritted her teeth and grabbed the upper edge of the dumpster. Her fingers sank into something gooey, but she ignored it and concentrated on breathing through her mouth, not her nose. She wasn’t as agile as she’d been back in the day, but she managed to get one foot up, then hoist herself up to straddle the side of the nasty dumpster. She forgot not to smell, and immediately decided she would burn the clothes she had on, because she didn’t want to ever see them again. She glanced down at her striped shirt. Dang -- it was one of her favorite tops. Well, it had to go now, no question. It would never be the same again. If she got down from here in one piece anyway. The stupid dumpster looked much taller from the top.

  Pausing to catch her breath, trying to remember why she was doing this, she searched the dumpster and the side of the building for her next hand hold. She stretched high over her head and could just get her fingertips around the window sill, so she counted to three in her mind, then lunged to haul herself up to stand on the edge of the dumpster. The metal was slippery, and she barely managed to get her footing.

  Sure enough, she was now window height.

  She squinted and leaned forward, trying to see through the dirty glass. One foot slipped and she grabbed the window sill for balance. Once she had her footing, she used the side of her hand to wipe at the glass, trying to clear a spot.

  Her cell phone rang in her pocket and she grabbed for it, afraid the men inside would hear. Grasping the window sill, she tugged it from her pocket and saw Blanche’s name on the screen. “Not now,” she moaned, but she couldn’t not answer, what if the Inn was on fire or something?

  “Hello?” she hissed into the phone.

  “Hello, dear!” boomed Blanche’s voice.

  Tara desperately pressed the volume down button, and then put the phone back to her ear. “What is it? What do you need?” she hissed, checking over her shoulder to see if the whole county had heard the woman.

  “Oh, nothing, I just wanted to let you know that the guests for tonight cancelled. I hate it when that happens, I really do!”

  Tara rolled her eyes. “Okay, thanks for letting me know,” she said, tossing a glance back through the window. “I’ll call you later.” She shook her head and pocketed the phone, then stretched onto her tiptoes, trying to see inside Alex’s shop.

  “Tara?” a loud voice behind her demanded.

  She jumped, whirling to see who’d caught her snooping, and her foot slipped again. Grappling in the air, she reeled over backwards, and fell directly into the dumpster. A moment later she came up spitting and gasping, only to see Ned, the sheriff deputy, peering over the top of the bin.

  “Wh— what are you doing back here?” N
ed stuttered, his eyes wide.

  Still unable to believe she’d fallen into the dumpster, Tara could only blink and rub goop out of one eye. Lucky for her, the bin had been half filled with empty cardboard boxes.

  Ned braced one foot on the dumpster and rose up to offer her a hand.

  She took his hand, but as soon as she pulled, her hand slipped out of his like a wet bar of soap.

  “Here, try again,” Ned said, this time extending his nightstick for her to grab.

  With both hands, she took hold and managed to grapple her way up to get a handhold on the side of the dumpster. She threw one leg over, then climbed up to balance on the edge, gasping for breath. Soggy, smelly hair stuck to one cheek, and the remnant of a mop hung from one foot. She kicked it off and glared down at the deputy. “What are you doing here?”

  The handsome young man grinned, his eyes dancing merrily as he looked up at her. “I could ask you the s—same thing.”

  Without an answer, she ignored his comment and swung down from the dumpster. She brushed her hands together, but it was hopeless. Cleanup would require a long hot shower… maybe two.

  Ned watched in amusement. “Alex c—called, and said he thought some sort of animal w—was in his trash again.”

  Tara stopped brushing at her clothes to glare at him. “What, exactly, are you insinuating?”

  “Nothing,” he chuckled. “Not one d--dang thing.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Winnie settled into the rocking chair, and Bella climbed up into her lap. The sweet little girl was exhausted after playing all morning. Winnie had tried to hold off her nap, because she wasn’t sure when Tara would be returning, but she could see that Bella wasn’t going to last much longer. Elvis, Winnie’s little cat, jumped up to join the toddler on Winnie’s lap.

  Where had Tara been headed? Winnie wondered, rocking lazily, her fingers stroking Bella’s hair.

  Julia had called Justin, alerting him to Tara’s strange behavior, but Winnie hadn’t heard a peep from either Justin or Tara since.

  Winnie handed Bella her favorite blanket, snuggled her close, and reached for the TV remote. Rocking back and forth as she surfed the channels, in no hurry to find Bella’s program, her mind wandered back to another television screen, long ago.

  The group of students had gathered around the oversized television, intent on the program. The oval surface of the screen distorted the picture, but they could still make out the grainy image of a shovel digging in rocky soil.

  “I can’t believe we are watching a robot dig on the surface of the moon,” Winnie said, breathless with wonder.

  Claudia squinted and cocked her head to one side. “I wish we could see what color it is. What if it’s not gray but green or purple?”

  Another student scoffed. “Don’t you think the astronauts would say something if it was?”

  Claudia grinned impishly. “Not necessarily, they’re not on the moon, they’re up in the module. Besides, they wouldn’t want to admit on live television that they were surprised or mistaken. And, they’ve never set foot down there. Maybe they can’t see that it’s actually purple until they get closer.”

  “You’re a nut,” another girl laughed.

  “No,” Claudia defended, “You people just have no imagination.”

  “Could be,” Winnie admitted.

  Claudia continued, caught up in the collective excitement of the group. “Do you ever wish you had a way to find out things, like the color of moon dirt? A magic source, that you could just ask and it would give you an answer to any question you asked?”

  Winnie lifted an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know, an all-knowing kind of machine—robot—thing.” Claudia continued, her gaze off in the distance. “You could ask it questions about homework, or where your friends are or what they’re doing.” She turned back to Winnie, trying to make her understand. “You could ask it if it’s going to rain tomorrow so you could decide what to wear, or even what the capital of Zimbabwe is, if you wanted to know.”

  Winnie laughed. “You really are crazy. How would that ever work? Besides, I don’t think I want to know that much stuff.”

  Claudia shrugged. “Maybe not, but it could be cool.”

  The broadcast ended and the group relaxed, issuing a collective sigh. Some of the students stretched and chatted amongst themselves about Surveyor 7, while others got up to leave, heading outside or back to their rooms.

  “I suppose I should study psychology,” Claudia sighed. “I just can’t get into that class.”

  Winnie turned off the television and straightened the sofa cushions. “Why not? I thought you’d dig all that head-space stuff.”

  Claudia sighed. “I thought it would be more like philosophical. You know, more – out there.”

  Winnie headed toward the door. “I thought it was pretty out there when I took it last semester.”

  Claudia pulled a face. “Not really. Nothing like the stuff your Thomas comes up with.”

  They trudged down the hall back to their room, neither excited to get into their homework. It was true, Thomas did have some very novel ideas about how the world worked, but in the big picture of things, none of it helped much with her chemistry homework.

  * * *

  Tara took time to shower, scrubbing thoroughly, before she went to pick up Bella. She’d sworn Deputy Ned to secrecy over her dumpster dive, and she didn’t want to give Winnie any hint of her misadventure. The last thing she needed was the whole town getting wind of her antics. She trusted Ned though. He was a good sort. She’d never heard him tell tales of what he caught folks doing while on duty. Thank goodness!

  She’d had to sneak in and out of her own house to get past Blanche. The woman had eyes in the back of her head!

  Winnie met Tara at the back door with a full trash bag in her hands. For a minute Tara thought the old woman was making some kind of statement about where Tara had been.

  “What are you doing?” Tara asked, an edge in her voice.

  Winnie was taken aback. “Taking out the trash, what does it look like I’m doing?”

  With an embarrassed sniff, Tara stepped aside to let Winnie pass, then her brain engaged. “Here, let me take it,” she said, reaching for the trash bag.

  Winnie handed it over without argument and stood in the doorway with Bella to watch.

  “Just calm down,” Tara muttered to herself as she trudged to the big trash can next to Winnie’s garage. She pulled a long breath in through her nose and then let it out through her mouth, hoping that the odor she smelled came from the bag in her hand, not from her.

  Feeling a bit more herself, she held open the big trash can and swung the bag up to drop it in. However, on the far side of the upswing, the handle broke, and the bag of trash dropped like a rock at her feet, splitting and splattering her with bits of stinky food and refuse.

  “Damn it!” She yelled, dancing to one side in a vain attempt to miss the spray of rubbish.

  “Damn it!” Bella echoed, then smiled up at Winnie proudly.

  Winnie covered her mouth to hide a laugh.

  Tara’s shoulders sank and she wanted to cry, but she bent to pick up the bits and pieces of garbage and put the mess into the trash can. This was just not her day.

  She plodded back to the house and frowned down at Bella. “What did I tell you about saying that?” she asked her daughter, but Bella just giggled and ran into the house.

  “Are you okay?” Winnie asked, struggling to keep a straight face.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Well, come on in,” Winnie soothed, motioning her along.

  Tara glanced down at her spattered clothes. “I’m dirty.”

  “It’s okay, you’ve been in this kitchen when you’re dirty plenty of times. Besides, a cup of tea will soothe your nerves.”

  Tara very much doubted it, but she followed. “I don’t want breakfast tea,” she pouted as she washed her hands. Winnie didn’t comment so she dried her hands
and dropped onto a bar stool. In a definite funk, she propped her chin in one hand.

  Winnie put the kettle on, then pulled over a stepstool and climbed up to reach a box in the cupboard over the fridge. “How about chocolate Chia tea, then?” She climbed down and set the box on the counter in front of Tara.

  Tara sat up straight in surprise and looked at the box, then back to Winnie. “You said you didn’t have anything but breakfast tea!”

  “No,” Winnie corrected, “I said I don’t keep any other kind of tea in that particular box.”

  Tara pulled a face, but Winnie ignored it. She wasn’t about to admit that the chai tea had been a gift last Christmas, and she’d tucked it away.

  Bella ran into the room with a naked Barbie in one hand. The poor doll looked as if it had been through a battle, with its hair all ratted and sticking out. Tara could sympathize.

  Winnie set two cups on the counter and settled into a stool across from Tara. “What’s got you down, dear? I was hoping that some free time from the Inn would make you happy.”

  Tara stared into the empty tea cup. Her life was falling apart. Other people ran her businesses better than she ever did, her husband didn’t care about her anymore, and her daughter cussed like a sailor.

  Alarmed at Tara’s silence, Winnie tossed out a teaser. “I was thinking it’s about time I went shopping for pie ingredients.”

  Tara’s head came up. “For homecoming?”

  “That’s right. Do you think Bella is old enough to help this year?”

  Tara scoffed. “It depends. Do you need ingredients smeared all over the kitchen?”

  The kettle rattled on the stove, then rose to a whine, and Winnie got up to fetch it. “What’s on your mind, Tara?” she asked, as she returned to the island.

  Looking up into the face of the woman who understood her better than anyone, Tara knew she couldn’t hide her concerns from Winnie. Still, the old woman had worries of her own lately. She shrugged, watching Winnie pour hot water into both of their tea cups.