Last Pen Standing

by Vivian Conroy

  Rosalyn Taylor frowned down on the dog. “I’d hoped you’d have the sense to leave the dog at home. You’re here to work.”

  “I always bring Spud when I come to work. He’ll stay wherever I put him and wait until I’m done.” Jonas spoke without raising his voice.

  “I can take Spud into our workshop,” Hazel offered. “Hey, boy.” She seemed to want to free a hand to pat the dog, but the big box in her arms wouldn’t let her. “How does the theme Glitter Galore grab you?”

  The German shepherd barked enthusiastically, as if he couldn’t wait to get started.

  Hazel laughed and said to Delta, “He’s hardly a puppy, but I’m sure you’ll love him anyway. Can you take the leash?”

  Rosalyn Taylor turned impatiently to Jonas. “We want to do the family photo at the fireplace before the party starts. I’ll tell everyone to assemble.” She marched into the hotel on her high heels, Jonas following her after he had pressed the dog lead into Delta’s hand. “Introductions will have to wait till later,” he called to her as he left.

  Spud watched his boss go without pulling to go after him. His tail was low and his eyes alert.

  Hazel whispered, “That’s Jonas Nord. He’s a wildlife photographer working in the area. He also helps Finn with guided tours when it’s a busy season, like with the leaf peeping tours now. Apparently, Ray listened to me and told Rosalyn to hire Jonas for the photos tonight.”

  Hazel sounded as if she was slightly surprised at her own success. With a grin, she added, “I bet Jonas had to borrow that tux. He’s not the type to have a closet full of suits.”

  “It does look good on him.”

  Hazel looked at Delta curiously. “Oh?”

  Recognizing the implications of that oh from prior occasions where Hazel had tried to pair her off with friends she considered totally right for Delta, Delta added quickly, “Just a factual observation. I’m here to settle in and work, not…get entangled in anything, you know.” At least for the first few weeks she could do without matchmaking attempts.

  “Sure.” Hazel didn’t sound convinced, but as people came up behind them, they moved on inside.

  The hotel lobby had its reception desk on the right and a seating arrangement of cozy leather sofas on the left. Decked out with sheepskins, the sofas were grouped around a low, wooden coffee table holding a silver tray with burning candles. A big fireplace, in which a log fire crackled, spread the scent of pine. The marble mantelpiece was full of silver-framed photographs. Rosalyn stood a few feet away from the fireplace, explaining something to Jonas, who nodded repeatedly. A woman who looked like a younger version of Rosalyn came up to them with a tall, broad-shouldered man with blond hair, who had his arm around her waist. An elderly man with stooping shoulders and a sharply etched face followed the couple. They were all in evening wear.

  Hazel whispered to Delta, “There you have Isabel, Finn, and Mr. Taylor.”

  Delta had never met Hazel’s brother before, but right now seemed like a bad time to go over for introductions. Rosalyn looked flurried as she directed everyone to a spot for the photograph. Stepping back to take his place, Finn collided with Mr. Taylor and excused himself profusely. Rosalyn gestured at him, her hand up to her throat, making a folding gesture, and Finn, even redder in the face now, reached up to check his collar and bow tie. A smug smile flashed across Rosalyn’s features, vanishing as she gave new orders to get everyone where she wanted them.

  Jonas was waiting patiently, holding the camera in his palm. His gaze swept the room, and his eyes met Delta’s briefly. Delta looked away to avoid the suggestion she was staring at him. She was only interested in the Taylors’ family dynamics. Hazel had seemed anxious about the prospect of Finn getting into this family to stay, and she wanted to find out why.

  Hazel jabbed her with an elbow. “This way to the boardroom where we’re setting up shop tonight.” They passed the reception desk, which held several brass, horse-shaped stands with information leaflets, to reach one of several oak-paneled doors leading off the lobby.

  Through the first of these doors, Delta and Hazel entered a large room with an oval table in the center surrounded by comfortable velvet pile chairs. A smaller table against the wall held cocktail glasses, a shaker, strainer, and several plastic bowls for leftovers. Delta put the bag with fresh ingredients for the mocktails on the table, leaning it against the wall. On this wall hung a gorgeous oil painting of a running horse, while the wall opposite had a watercolor of the lake with boats bobbing on it.

  “There we are.” At the head of the oval table, Hazel put the cardboard box down and opened the flaps. “I’ll put everything the participants can choose from here. You’d better return to the lobby and make sure the participants don’t go the wrong way. Rosalyn seemed a bit tense about them getting mixed up with her guests. You can easily recognize our arrivals as they won’t be in evening dress but in their normal clothes. Mrs. Cassidy will also have her dog with her. Nugget is a Yorkie.”

  Delta nodded and left again, positioning herself close to the entry doors without being in anybody’s way. A swinging sax coming from open doors beside the elevators on the far end of the lobby suggested the party would be held there, and Delta would have loved a peek at the way the room was decorated for the big event. But thinking of Rosalyn’s insistence that they keep to their own territory, she controlled herself, focusing her attention on the fireplace where the photo session was now in full swing.

  Jonas went over to Isabel and touched her elbow, directing her to hold her arm differently. Apparently, it had been just outside the frame. On that arm Isabel wore a rather impressive gold bracelet with precious stones. Delta wondered if it was fake or real. Real probably, considering the Taylors’ wealth.

  Isabel spoke up, “Shouldn’t Ray be in the picture as well? I could go get him. I think I just saw him walk down…”

  “No, he doesn’t have to be in our pictures,” Rosalyn snapped.

  Delta held her breath, waiting to see if another member of the Taylor family wanted to object, but the father’s face was inscrutable, Isabel kept smiling, and Finn even looked slightly smug, as if he were happy that his future brother-in-law was being excluded from the annual family portrait.

  Jonas took a few shots and walked forward to show them to Rosalyn, but Rosalyn muttered something, waving her hand, and rushed off. Jonas stared after her as if he wanted to call her back, then shrugged and hurried to the open doors beside the elevators. The sax was now joined by a strumming double bass, and Delta couldn’t help tapping her foot to the rhythm.

  A few ladies in their fifties entered the lobby, chatting busily. They were all casually dressed in jeans or corduroy pants, with long woolen sweaters or cardigans on top. One of them, sporting a knee-length woolen coat and big scarf printed with red-and-gold fall leaves, carried a Yorkie on her arm, the dog’s fluffy head moving in the direction of the music as if she wanted to explore where it was coming from.

  Recalling that Hazel had mentioned something about Mrs. Cassidy’s dog, Delta went up to them. “Mrs. Cassidy? You’re here for the Glitter Galore workshop, right? That way please.”

  “I’ve been before,” Mrs. Cassidy assured her and directed the other women to the first oak-paneled door beyond the reception desk. Lingering to unbutton her woolen coat with one hand while holding her furry companion with the other, she said to Delta, “You must be Delta Douglas. Hazel mentioned to me over the phone that you would be here tonight.” She reached out her free hand. “Orpa Cassidy. I’m so excited that you’re joining Wanted and the Paper Posse.”

  Delta shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you. I still feel like it’s a bit unreal. But this morning I had some business cards printed, proclaiming myself co-owner, and now it is starting to sink in.” Delta grinned as the exhilaration of holding her very own glossy business cards washed over her again. She had had just fifty printed at the local printing shop, but
it felt like another step into her new life.

  She gestured over her shoulder at the boardroom door. “They are in there, with the paper crafting material, so you can take one along if you want to. Then you have my cell phone number and email, should you want to get in touch with me.”

  “Perfect, I’ll do that. Oh, before you go in, you should have a look at the photographs over there.” Mrs. Cassidy waved to encompass the right-hand wall, which was lined with framed photographs, some black-and-white, others in color. “They’re fascinating. The Lodge Hotel was much smaller in the past, with more trees around it. Unfortunately, they had to make way for a parking lot. You can just see the vehicles change over time from the Ford Model T of the roaring twenties to the Porsches and SUVs of the present-day visitors. The clothes are fascinating as well, showing how people originally went hiking and boating in the same clothes they wore when they went dining, and only over time, outdoor clothing and plastic raincoats came along.”

  “I love knowing a bit more about the history of places.” Delta smiled at Mrs. Cassidy. “Hazel told me you’re into genealogy, but it’s local history as well?”

  Mrs. Cassidy shrugged it off as if it were but a small matter. “I work at the gold-mining museum, so I’m afraid sometimes I get carried away by my love of the past.” She leaned over and explained in a confidential tone, “I’ve studied outlaws as much as I can. Did you know they actually had group portraits made of their gangs? Like they weren’t afraid of the law at all. And there were also female gang members. Seamstress by day, bank robber by night.”

  She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Some of their loot was never recovered. I strongly believe there’s gold hidden around Tundish. And someday we’ll find it. Won’t we, Nugget?” Mrs. Cassidy cuddled the Yorkie in her arms.

  Before Delta could respond, Mrs. Cassidy said, “Oh, Hazel is waving at us from the boardroom door. I guess she wants to get started on the workshop.” She waved back at Hazel, crying, “Coming!” and rushed over, her red-and-gold scarf flapping behind her.

  Delta stared after her, almost forgetting she had to follow suit. Of course, gold had a mythical ring to it, but to believe you could still uncover an old stash… Seemed like with Mrs. Cassidy around, there would never be a dull moment.

  * * *

  When all twenty participants were inside the boardroom, the last one rushing in with red cheeks and hurried apologies about her babysitter being late, Delta closed the door and Hazel welcomed everyone and explained the theme for the night. “Glitter Galore means we’re going to make something extravagant to treat ourselves or somebody else. I bet you all know some kind of inspirational quote containing a word like ‘shining,’ ‘diamond,’ ‘gold,’ ‘priceless,’ etc. We’re first going to hand letter that quote onto a piece of cardboard. Hand lettering means that you vary the letters in size and font, completely by your own design. You can make them nice and sleek or big and broad, filling them in with colors or glitter or even small, sticky gemstones. You can then decorate the background, going as extravagant and over the top as you like. Remember, this is really meant to convey luxury and shine.”

  Hazel pointed to all the material laid out at the head of the table: glitter paper, feathers, glitter paint and spray, sequins, ribbons, and other small bits and bobs to use for decoration. “Feel free to choose anything you want. If you need help with attaching materials or deciding on colors, ask us. We’re here to ensure you end up with something you really love. Oh, and to reward ourselves when we’re done, I’ve brought everything to make mocktails.” She gestured at the table along the wall with the glasses and shaker. “There’s no alcohol involved, so we can all drive home safely.”

  The ladies gave her a spontaneous round of applause, the one closest to Delta remarking to their neighbor that she had never had mocktails before and couldn’t wait to try one.

  Spud was walking about the room, sniffing here and there. He halted at a purse someone had deposited in a chair and began to bark.

  “No, Spud,” Hazel said. “No.”

  The dog looked at her expectantly.

  Hazel shook her head. “No.”

  She explained to the women who studied the dog with interest, “He’s a retired K-9 officer. He was never used to find drugs or cell phones, but money. Is there a lot of cash in your purse?”

  All the participants laughed. “Caught red-handed,” someone commented to the owner of the purse.

  “Is he yours?” a woman asked Hazel.

  Hazel shook her head. “His owner is doing photography at the gold miners’ party tonight. I’m just babysitting him.”

  “I think he’s babysitting us,” the woman said, nodding in Spud’s direction.

  Disappointed that no search of the purse would be allowed, Spud lay down with his bushy head on his front paws. He never stopped scanning the room with his amber eyes, keeping an eye on everyone present.

  Nugget came over to him to make friends, but Spud ignored the energetic fur ball shooting around him.

  Delta sat down beside one of the ladies, who wanted to make a sequined mask with feathers on the side for her granddaughter. It didn’t really involve an inspirational quote like Hazel had mentioned, but it was very glam, and Delta was sure the girl would love it. “If you leave room here to insert two little holes for an elastic band, she can really wear it.”

  “What a great idea, thank you.”

  Delta smiled and picked up her own piece of cardboard to decorate. She knew exactly what phrase to write to celebrate her first workshop as co-owner of Wanted. It could go on her mood board, or maybe she’d send it to Gran.

  “Living the dream,” she wrote on the paper, the word “living” flowing in elegant curly letters, with the in bold, square print and dream in thinner strokes, which she wanted to fill up with glittery gemstones. Several women watched over her shoulder to see how they could apply the techniques to their own creations.

  Mrs. Cassidy, who had obviously done hand lettering before, was working on a long quote, using several styles and sizes of letters while still maintaining perfect balance and symmetry on the page.

  Soon, everyone was spraying and cutting and gluing to their hearts’ delight. To drive the sharp chemical scents of paint and glue out of the room, Delta opened the french doors that led outside. She stood for a few moments, looking at the stunning view toward the lake and the mountains. With the sun down, the sky was showing small specks of stars and a sliver of silvery moon.

  The main door opened, and a woman came in, her blond hair piled high on her head, her sparkly, blue-tasseled dress moving above her knees as she walked. She halted abruptly, glancing around with a slightly confused look.

  Delta went over at once. “I think you have the wrong room. You’re a guest at the gold miners’ party, right? We’re doing a paper craft workshop here. Separate events.”

  “Oh! But I love stationery,” the woman said, clasping her hands in front of her. “Can I have a look at what you’re making?”

  Without waiting for confirmation, the woman walked around the table and looked at what the participants were creating. “Very posh,” she cried, spotting the sequined mask with feathers. She picked up a purple feather and blew it away from her hand so it fluttered slowly to the floor. She burst into a fit of laughter.

  Delta cringed. The too-loud laughter and the woman’s slightly tottering steps on her high heels suggested she had drunk a little too much.

  And it was only nine in the evening.

  But as the woman was probably a wealthy acquaintance of the Taylors, or maybe even a hotel guest, Delta didn’t dare send her away. She just hoped the participants were so wrapped up in their creations that they didn’t mind this odd intrusion too much.

  The woman stopped at the table against the wall where, beside the cocktail glasses, Hazel had laid out some paper goodies for the women to browse over during the promis
ed after-workshop mocktails. She grabbed a notebook with gold foil on the front and cooed, “How lovely. Can I buy this? I really need this. Yes, and this one…”

  She chose a silver one with robins. “I’ll put them in a bag myself.”

  She grabbed a Wanted paper bag and fumbled to slip the notebooks inside. She folded the bag closed and put it aside. “I’ll come get them later. And then I’ll pay you. OK? OK!”

  Delta exchanged a quick look with Hazel.

  Hazel shrugged. She said to the woman, “Thank you for your interest. We have a much larger offering at the shop in town. If you’re coming that way, please feel free to drop by. Wanted, in the old sheriff’s office on Mattock Street. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you,” the woman slurred, smiling at Hazel. She walked back to the door, again with those slightly faltering steps. She waved a hand in the air by way of a general goodbye and left, banging the door shut.

  “How odd,” one of the participants said, her red felt-tip hovering over the paper where she was decorating an L with tiny roses.

  The woman next to her was carefully attaching sequins into a difficult symmetrical pattern. “I wonder if she’ll remember anything about this tomorrow morning.”

  Mrs. Cassidy smiled indulgently. “I suppose she isn’t having a very good time. Vera White is visiting from Miami. She’s married to one of those two brothers who organize dolphin-spotting trips in the Florida Keys. Ralph and Herb White. You must have seen them around town. They’re leaving their business cards everywhere. ‘Your day isn’t right without a trip with White’ and ‘With White there’s always a dolphin in sight,’ that sort of tacky thing.”

  She grimaced, and the other ladies laughed as she continued. “I even found one pinned to the bulletin board in the church hallway. Needless to say, I took it down. Advertising is fine with me, but not in church.”