When Beef Jerky Met Cherries Jubilee

by Lee Pulaski

  “How did you find out he was on the construction crew?”

  “I didn’t. At least, I don’t know for sure. What I do know is that, when you tackled Perry, his gun wasn’t the only thing that slid away. I found his keys tangled up in a bush just off the front porch, and one of them matched the key Anne Marie had shown me a few days earlier.”

  Newell kissed Zachary on the forehead as he slid under the covers. “Feel like you can rest now that the big murder mystery has been solved?” He pulled off the towel he’d been wearing and tossed it on the floor as he gave Zachary another kiss, this time on the lips.

  Zachary took a deep breath as he came to terms with the fact that Newell was completely naked in the bed with him. “Yes. It’ll be nice to get back to normal, where the biggest crisis I’m dealing with is how many copies of a particular book I should order.”

  “Well, here’s hoping there’s no more murders for a while. I mean, the village only has about six hundred residents. How many more people can we afford to lose?”

  “Very true. Still, it keeps life from getting too ordinary.”

  “There are other ways to keep life away from terminal monotony. A nudist colony could open up next to the village park, or Sigrid could turn her supper club into a leather bar.”

  Zachary shook his head. “The scary part is you put some thought into that.”

  Newell smiled and settled into bed. “Have you heard anything on what’s going to happen to Gresham Market now? I mean, Miles is dead, and no one is going to be buying it anytime soon.”

  “I don’t know, but I’m willing to bet that Randa is going to take the bull by the horns and keep the place open. While it’s true that Miles never let her be responsible for ordering or anything like that, she seems like a pretty smart cookie, and she’ll forge her own ties. It’ll be a brand new Gresham Market, but it will still be right for our small town.”

  “Well, the first thing she should do is reconnect with Scotty Glenn and his bakery. The poor guy came in the feed store this afternoon to buy food for his cats and was bemoaning the fact that the loss of Gresham Market could put all the other local shops out of business.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second. Sure, not having a local grocery store would negatively impact the businesses, but my income is from books. I offer muffins and coffee as good customer service, but I’m not making any money off the food industry. Sigrid has to order much of her food in bulk, so she brings it in from outside. Besides, if Scotty wants to peddle his pastries, maybe he should shake his moneymaker in the streets to attract attention.”

  “Does that wiry little guy even have a moneymaker?”

  “I don’t know, honey,” Zachary said, deadpan. “Why don’t you yank his pants down the next time we go into the bakery, and we can find out?”

  “Sarcastic little minx, aren’t you?” Newell gave Zachary another kiss.

  Zachary growled seductively. “I’m a minx? You’re the only one crawling up in this bed all buck naked. You think you’re going to get something tonight?”

  “Not only am I going to get something, but you’re going to give it to me willingly, too.”

  “And what if I say no?”

  “I have magazines and the basement.”

  Zachary rolled his eyes. “All right, but if you please me to the point that I’m humming at work tomorrow, I’m never having sex with you again.”

  “Okay. No pure pleasure, just tolerable enjoyment.”

  “Now we’re talking, cowboy.” Zachary turned off the lamp by the bed. “Saddle up.”

  Tolerable enjoyment could not adequately describe what Zachary felt that night after the lights went out.

  The White Eagle Art Gallery was full of life again as the reopening commenced. A violinist from the Gresham Community School was quiet playing in a corner as folks wandered around and looked at Sajen Hawpetoss’ paintings. There was no chance any of the paintings would fall, as Newell had come in a couple of hours earlier and checked all the wall mounts to ensure they would hold. No one from the Reimer family, aside from Rose, was attending, and Jasper Walters wouldn’t set foot in the gallery again even if he was fleeing the apocalypse, so the drama was expected to be minimal.

  Zachary popped a purple grape in his mouth as he looked around the room. Sajen’s paintings were brilliant. People were commenting on what a breath of fresh air they were and how Sajen must be truly blessed to have such talent. Zachary had to bite his tongue as people said this, considering some of the folks singing his praises were part of the posse tracking him down in the woods when they thought he’d violently murdered his girlfriend’s grandparents.

  Newell walked over to Zachary after speaking with other gallery patrons. He pointed to one of Sajen’s paintings. “I really like that one. He’s mixed together imagery of bowls of fruit and the cascading waters of Keshena Falls. Water churns together all kinds of curious and random patterns. How did his mind’s eye detect the fruit shapes in the water?”

  Zachary took a closer look at the painting Newell was staring at. “I imagine it takes a lot of patience, a lot of letting your mind go blank and starting to piece together an image from scratch. He could have just as easily seen unicorns galloping or kittens climbing out of a basket.”

  “After all the guy has been through, he deserves to have his work admired. Anne Marie told me that three of his paintings have sold already tonight, and there’s even a gallery in Wausau interested in hanging some of his work.”

  Zachary took a sip of punch. “Sajen’s going to need the money. Caring for children is not for those with a lack of finances. I hope he can make things work.”

  “If you love someone enough, you always find a way to make things work.” Newell put his arms around Zachary’s waist. “Any sign of Sasha? I thought she planned to make an appearance.”

  “Maybe she had to give the Angel of Death a ride home.” Zachary chuckled.

  “I’m going to tell her you said that.”

  “Go right ahead. I’ve said worse, and she’s dished it right back to me.”

  It was Newell’s turn to chuckle. “I know she has.” He looked around. “Is it my imagination, or are there actually more people attending tonight’s reception than the first one a few weeks ago?”

  “Yeah. I find it a little hard to believe that Sajen’s a bigger superstar in this county than Osgood and Muriel were. Do you think people are trying to ease their consciences because, just a short time ago, they were ready to just blame Sajen for a crime?”

  “Who knows? In the end, does it really matter? Everything turned out all right.”

  Anne Marie walked over to Newell and Zachary. “You guys having a good time tonight?”

  “Looks like the resurrection of the White Eagle Art Gallery is a complete and utter success.”

  Zachary nodded in agreement. “I told you everything was going to work itself out.”

  “Especially with a personal inspection to ensure no priceless works of art take a dive.”

  Anne Marie grinned. “That’s always a good thing. I’ve already received suggestions for a number of other exhibits, and Sajen’s up to four paintings sold. The commission I’m getting from those sales is enough to keep this place going for months.”

  Zachary nodded. “It just takes a little bit of effort to keep your dreams alive. You still glad you decided to pursue this career and not go back to teaching.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that, and I think I could still teach. If I teach art classes here, for both young and old, I can still connect with people.”

  “That’s all any of us want to do. I know I felt a little lost and lonely for a while, but then I met Newell, and things seemed to improve.”

  Newell grinned mischievously. “Now tell her what you’d really say if I wasn’t around.”

  After kicking Newell in the shin, Zachary continued, “This place might not have turned out completely like you’d dreamed, but we don’t always get the dream itself. Sometimes it take
s a little shifting to get the dreamer and the dream to align.”

  “That’s true. I don’t know if I would have been satisfied if I’d achieved my dream down to the last detail. Sometimes it’s good to still have things to strive for.”

  Zachary’s eyes drifted toward a drape covering a painting. “Um, Anne Marie. What’s that?”

  Anne Marie glanced over. “It’s a painting.”

  “I know that. What is it a painting of?”

  “You’ll just have to wait and see. Don’t worry, the unveiling will come soon.”

  Zachary sighed. “You mean I can’t take a little peek? I promise I’ll be discreet.”

  Anne Marie smiled. “I think I’ll just leave you in anticipation.”

  After Anne Marie left to mingle with other patrons, Zachary turned to Newell. “But I want to know now.”

  Newell shook his head. “I swear, you’re worse than a little kid on Christmas Day. You’re just going to have to wait like everyone else.”

  “Oo, that reminds me. There are only two hundred ninety-seven shopping days left until Christmas.”

  “I know. I’ve already got your presents.” Newell’s eyes flashed with mischievousness.

  Zachary knew by Newell’s tone and look that something was afoot. “Waaaaaait a second.”

  “Zach, why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You came in before the reception to check the wall mounts so no more falling paintings.”

  “That’s right. No sabotaged mounts to ruin the jubilant mood today.”

  “Uh huh, and that means you got to see the painting under that drape.”

  “Zach, it’s not going to be that much longer until the unveiling. There are plenty of other paintings for you to admire in the meantime.”

  “What if I let you take me again and again tonight? Will you tell me?”

  Another mischievous flash emanated from Newell’s eyes. “I have a boyfriend. Keep your tricks away from me, you seductive jezebel.”

  “Jezebel? Did you seriously just call me a jezebel, you Lone Star horn dog?”

  “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

  “No, but I’m kissing my boyfriend.” Zachary kept his promise.

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Most likely something that will have me humming at work tomorrow.” Zachary glanced at the entrance and saw Chad, his nephew, walk in with the girlfriend, Allison. “Hey, look. It’s Chad. I’ll be right back.”

  Chad and Allison were talking near a large painting when Zachary walked up. It startled Chad.

  “Uncle Zach, hi. I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I’ve just… it’s been… well…”

  Allison put a hand on Chad’s shoulder. “You should tell him, Chad. He’s family. I’ll go get us some hors d’ouevres.”

  Zachary bit his lip. “Tell me what, Chad? It sounds rather serious. You’re not… you’re not going to be a father, are you?”

  Chad’s eyes widened. “What? No! Allison and I are dating, but we’re not sexually active.”

  Zachary heaved a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good news. If you’re not hiding a pregnancy, what do you need to tell me?”

  “I went to see my doctor for my annual checkup about three weeks ago. He found something funky with some test results, so he sent me and Mom to another doctor for a second opinion. They did some further tests, and…” Chad looked down at his feet. “I’m sick, Uncle Z.”

  Zachary could feel a dropping sensation in his stomach. “Wh-what do you mean you’re sick?”

  “I’ve been diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Disease. The doctor is optimistic that, with treatment, I can make a complete recovery, but I’ve been so scared that I haven’t told anyone but Allison. She’s been helping me with my schoolwork because I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything, let alone literature and algebra, since I found out.” Tears were welling up in Chad’s eyes. “I didn’t want anyone else to know I was sick. Mom’s already upset because I’ve interrupted her travel plans for the next few months, and…”

  Zachary could tell that Chad was about to lose control, so he started moving his nephew toward the door. “Let’s just go on outside and get a little air, buddy.”

  Zachary glanced over at Newell and saw him moving to intercept. Zachary shook his head and mouthed “no” to indicate he should keep his distance. Chad and Zachary walked away from the gallery and stopped near Sigrid’s supper club.

  Chad laughed hysterically. “Allison thought going to the art gallery would help me take my mind off of what’s happening. I didn’t even think that you and Newell were going to be attending. I just… I wanted one night where I wasn’t thinking of my own mortality.”

  “Chad, why didn’t you tell me what was going on? You used to tell me everything.”

  “How can you tell your uncle that you could die before turning eighteen?”

  “Hey, bud. You just said the doctor is really optimistic about your chances. Some folks with cancer don’t get good news. Besides, you have plenty of people who love you and are going to see you through this. Tell your mom that any treatments she can’t take you to, I’ll do it. Did the doctor indicate where you’d be able to go to get treated?”

  “There’s a place in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan that treats kids. I’m supposed to start in a few weeks. They’re going to do some chemo and radiation. I’m going to lose my hair.” Chad ran his hand through his hair. “Uncle Z, people are going to look at me like I’m a freak, even more than they already do.”

  “So what? What do they know? All that matters is getting you better. Screw what anyone else thinks, and that includes me. You are my nephew, Chad, and I love you no matter what—sick, well, hairy or hairless. You’re family, and the family is going to help get you through this.”

  Chad’s lip quivered. He put his head against Zachary’s shoulder and started sobbing. Zachary wrapped his arms around his nephew and held him tight. The weight of the world was on Chad’s shoulders, and Zachary knew there wasn’t anything more he could do other than comfort him.

  “I am so scared, uncle. What can I do?”

  “Oh, Chad. You’ve always been more mature than your age, but you’re still growing up, and now you’re having to grow up even faster because of this. The only thing you can do is take each day as it comes. It’s not fair, but the people in our family have a penchant for fighting back against impossible odds. We’re going to get through this.”

  Chad shuddered. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

  “Chad, it’s okay. You’re under pressure that no one your age should have. This shouldn’t have happened to you. Hell, it shouldn’t happen to anyone, but now that it has happened, we’re going to fight it. You’re going to be all right.”

  “I love you, Uncle Zach.”

  “I love you, too.” Zachary took a step back. “Feeling any better?”

  “A little. I should probably go in and find Allison.”

  “That’s a good idea. Should we try to reschedule dinner?”

  Chad nodded. “I’d like that. I’d like you to get to know Allison, too.”

  Zachary glanced over at The Literary Barn before looking at Chad again. “Hey, buddy. Can you let Newell know I had to take care of something over at the bookstore, and I’ll be back hobnobbing with him in a few minutes?”

  “Sure thing. Thanks for everything, Uncle Zach.”

  After Chad walked back into the gallery, Zachary walked quickly toward the bookstore, feeling something unpleasant building up in him. He fumbled with his keys and shoved the front door open. He absentmindedly dropped his keys on the counter and walked through the stacks. He wasn’t sure where he was heading, but he needed to keep moving. A thousand thoughts were racing in his head. Jumbled, tangled, snarled thoughts driving like they were on a racetrack in Indianapolis. He reached the back of the store, spun around and walked back the way he came. He went between another corridor of shelves. It felt like he was walking forever. By the ti
me he finished his fifth lap through the stacks, the rage had reached a fever pitch. He walked over to the island where customers got coffee and pastries. He lashed out at the coffee machine, knocking the urn to the floor. He kicked at the cabinet door. He kicked again and again. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “Zach?”

  Zachary spun around, ready to strike again, but Newell grabbed his clenched fist.

  “Zach, Chad told me you were here. What happened?”

  Zachary shuddered. “Chad’s sick, Newell. C-c-cancer.”

  Newell gasped. “Oh, Zach. I am so sorry. Is that why he hasn’t been…”

  “Yeah. Here I was thinking he was becoming a distant teenager, and the poor kid’s trying to hide that he’s got cancer. Why couldn’t I see it?”

  “You can’t see it if he doesn’t come around, Zach. You can’t beat yourself up over this.”

  “I guess that there are some killers that I can’t track down, no matter how hard I pursue.”

  “Zach, this is not your fault.”

  Zachary wiped away tears. “I know, Newell. I just needed to process. I never expected, of all the people to get sick, that Chad would be one of them. He’s always been healthy and vibrant and happy. To see him tonight, it was like that positive exterior was cracking.”

  “He takes after his uncle.” Newell wrapped his arms around Zachary and gently squeezed. “What are you going to do? Do you want to blow off the reception and head home?”

  Zachary shook his head. “Chad just told me about the cancer. If we leave him at the reception, it’ll come off as abandonment. I’m going to head back to the reception and stay as long as he needs me. Listen, would it be all right if we made up one of the guest rooms for him? Knowing how flighty his mother is at times, I want him to have a place where he can recover and where there will actually be people around to care for him.”

  “Of course it’s all right. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Zachary sighed. “Just when I thought things were going to go back to normal.”

  “What is normal, really? Everybody talks about it like it’s nirvana or something, but the reality is that everything changes. You might take a different route to work one day, or you might dye your hair purple, or you might take a chance that the cute bookstore owner you have the hots for might feel the same way about you.”