All She Wrote

by Tonya Kappes

  “That’s why Grady decided to come back to Sugar Creek Gap after college. He knew he could give back to the community that had given him so much love and support by taking the teaching position at the high school and becoming the head football coach.” I was very proud of my son.

  “Yeah. Y’all need to listen and take a lesson from Bernie.” Harriette, the ringleader of the Front Porch Ladies, had a sudden change of heart.

  “What about that niece of hers?” Ruby Dean leaned over the table and down at me. “She gets a lot of packages in the mail.”

  “Yeah. I’ve seen you dragging that cart around with you for the past few days now. And I know I didn’t get no smell-good letter from Zeke Grey.” Gertrude’s brow twitched. “Apparently, you’re not getting anything special from Zeke either.” She looked directly at Harriette.

  Trying to hold a conversation with these four women was like being in a room full of squirrels. They changed subjects more than a high school student’s class schedule. Though this particular subject of the packages Courtney Gaines had been receiving was a much-needed change of subject. I couldn’t tell them what was in the packages—I had no idea—but I did know where they were coming from.

  “Don’t you be going and telling me nothing about me and Zeke.” Harriette didn’t bother looking up from her knitting needles.

  “Well, I’m just saying.” Gertrude let out a long sigh, lowering her shoulders.

  “Just say nothing,” Harriette mumbled and continued to work the needles and the thread. “How’s Julia?”

  “My Julia?” The thought of becoming a grandmother made my heart soar. “She’s fantastic. She’s been such a trooper for a first-time pregnancy. Mac said he’s missing her so much. Now that she’s into her third trimester, she’s not as sick anymore. I’m doing all I can to help. Poor thing is so big with baby.”

  “Have they moved out of the Wallflower apartment?” Ruby asked about the little apartment above my parents’ diner, where Julia and Grady lived.

  “They were still sleeping there while the farmhouse is being painted, along with those remodels Mac is doing for them.” Seeing Mac and Grady work side by side was a dream for me. “But going to sleep there for the first night tonight. That’s why I’m trying to get this cloth completed.”

  By the size of my square knitting project, they would only be able to wash a baby spoon with it.

  “Mac has really been busy there. You sure are lucky, Bernie.” Harriette didn’t bother looking up at me. She knew it was a touchy subject I rarely liked to talk about.

  Mac was Richard’s, my deceased husband’s, best friend and had been around Grady all his life, so they were already close. After Richard had died, Grady and I learned of a secret life Richard had kept hidden our entire marriage. Mac had kept Richard’s secret. It took a while for me to forgive Mac, but not Grady.

  Mac had become somewhat of a father figure to Grady, and I was forever grateful for that. That feeling had turned into a love for Mac that I couldn’t shake off.

  “I can’t wait to see it.” Leotta had rejoined us in the classroom after she’d taken a few phone calls and helped a customer while the five of us sat yammering on. “Julia is very excited because Grady keeps telling her about all the wonderful memories he’d had growing up in the farmhouse.” Leotta looked out the window and watched as Zeke Grey greeted Florence with a hug on the sidewalk before they began to walk down past the yarn shop toward the diner. “It just goes to show that love is in the air this summer.”

  “Not if I’ve got something to do with it.” Harriette’s eyes narrowed. “If Florence keeps fluttering them eyelashes, she’s gonna start a windstorm.”

  Chapter 2

  There was no sense in trying to get any more of the washcloth finished at Social Knitwork. The Front Porch Ladies kept gossiping about Zeke and what Florence Gaines had over him to make him want to not only have supper with her but hug her while they stood on the sidewalk on Main Street. Something these southern ladies saw as very inappropriate.

  I gathered my yarns and put everything back in the little yarn bag Leotta had given us for signing up for class. The Front Porch Ladies already knew how to knit, but like everyone in Sugar Creek Gap, there wasn’t much to do right now.

  It was rare I had a day off during the week, especially a Friday, but Monica Reed, a clerk at the post office, had really wanted to be a mail carrier, so a few times a year I’d take a vacation day so she could get her feet wet. It never failed that the day after she took my route, her feet ached and her back hurt, and she was back to being grateful for the stool at the counter and her job there. After that, she’d stop belly-aching about being inside for a few more months.

  Generally on my days off, I would hang out with my parents at Wallflower and help around the diner, or I’d work around the farm. But now that I’d inherited a home from one of my customers, I had a nice tiny yard where I was ecstatic to work in the flower beds I’d planted. There were a few items I needed to pick up from Leaf and Petal, our local garden store, for the next vegetable garden boxes Mac had made for my backyard.

  I was used to having a huge garden at the farmhouse, and when I heard Julia and Grady say they weren’t going to harvest the garden, I had to admit I was a little heartbroken. It was a little hard to bite my tongue and let them do with the property what they wanted since I’d given it to them without any requests to keep the garden. They didn’t even keep the family room and kitchen separate when they decided to tear down the wall and make it one big open space. My heart groaned a little more. I let out a long, deep sigh, letting all of the things I loved about the farmhouse go, and let my mind drift to the beautiful box garden I was going to harvest as I pulled the car into the parking lot of Leaf and Petal.

  The extended summer hours were perfect for me. Most nights I’d get home so late from my mail route, but with daylight savings time, most stores were open well past their normal hours.

  “It feels like five o’clock.” Sara Rammond, the owner of the Leaf and Petal, was elbow-deep in the black diamond mulch. She was hand scooping, or more like arm scooping, the smelly stuff into a wheelbarrow.

  “It does. I love it.” There was a giddy up in my step as my eyes took in all the vibrant annuals lined up like little happy faces displayed in rows upon rows on the acres of land the Rammonds owned. “Sara, stunning crop this year.”

  It was as if Mother Nature had a burst of happy all over the Rammonds property. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and the customers were roaming around with smiles on their faces.

  Sara stood up. She was a lean older woman who should’ve used more sunscreen in her younger days, though like most people around Sugar Creek Gap, the business and property was passed down from generation to generation.

  Leaf and Petal was from Sara’s side of the family, not Larry’s, her husband’s.

  “You know Larry is as stubborn as a mule.” She pushed the floppy hat up out of her eyes.

  The lines around her eyes and her leathery crepe skin was the price she’d paid to have a business that required a lot of time in the elements. I knew. My job was exactly the same, but I slathered sunscreen on every morning and reapplied throughout my day, even in the cold and dreary weather.

  “What’s up with Larry?” I asked.

  “This.” She waved her hand over the flower gardens. “He wants to strictly do vegetables and doesn’t want to worry with the flowers, which is my passion. So that’s why I’m out here doing the mulch for customers. He even suggested we sell the back part to the bank for their new branch.”

  I’d heard some rumblings on my mail route about the Sugar Creek Gap National Bank opening a second branch on the far side of the county since our little town had been growing by leaps and bounds.

  “Do you need a shovel?” I wasn’t sure what she was trying to tell me about her and Larry or if she just needed an ear to listen, but I stood there offering some sort of suggestion so she didn’t have to scoop with her arms.
<
br />   “Oh no. I know a scoop is about this size, give a few extra.” She winked and made a big circle with her arms. “Another reason Larry hates the garden center. He says I give out too much mulch by eyeballing it and we are losing money. So if we were to sell the back half to the bank, we’d make some money.”

  To my surprise, Courtney Gaines walked up.

  “Courtney, right?” I questioned, actually thankful not to continue the conversation with Sara. Her apparent issue with Larry didn’t stop with me. She kept on talking about him when another customer walked up.

  “Great memory.” Courtney put a hand up to her forehead and rubbed it like she was trying to get a genie to pop out. “I’m not great with names. I’m sorry.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to be since you just moved to town. I’m Bernadette.” I was about to say my last name, but she took in a deep breath and held up her hand to stop me.

  “My neighbor and mail carrier.” Her head tilted to the side. “I remember, but you know Aunt Florence. She rattles off names to me along with little details about people that I try to forget.”

  I smiled, knowing exactly what Courtney meant by little details. . . gossip.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” Sara spoke up. She looked at Courtney and pointed to the wheelbarrow. “I’ve got to go dig up some snapdragons for a customer. Here’s your mulch. You can just push the wheelbarrow to your car, and after you dump it, just leave it in the parking lot.” She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “At least Larry will bring those back.”

  “I’ll catch you in a little bit. I’m needing some advice on a box garden I’m planting at the new house,” I told Sara before she ran off.

  “Plants? Veggies?” Sara asked.

  “Vegetables. Grady and Julia aren’t keeping a garden now that they moved into the farmhouse, so I’m going to plant my own at my new house.” I smiled and watched Sara rush off, knowing by the shake of her finger she knew what I was talking about.

  “Box garden. Wow.” Courtney looked to be overwhelmed. “I’m just trying to keep up with the letter I got from the beautification committee about making my yard look nice. Since my aunt Florence is trying her hardest to get appointed the new beautification president, she’s practically making me learn how to garden.” She looked down at the wheelbarrow and shook her head. “I don’t even know if this is enough mulch or not.”

  “You’re in luck.” It took everything in my being not to ask her about Florence wanting to be the president of the committee, since Florence didn’t have a green thumb, finger, toe, or anything else green in her body. “I’m pretty good at all things gardening. If you can believe it, I traded in a huge farm for the house on Little Creek.”

  Long story short, when Mr. Macum, the former owner of my house on Little Creek Road, had died, he willed it to me. It was a perfect time to gift the farm to Grady since they were expanding their family, and it was just me, Rowena, my ornery cat, and now Buster, Mr. Macum’s dog that I’d also got in his inheritance.

  “I’m more than happy to wander over the fence and help you if you need me to. It’s only my opinions, so you can use what you want and forget the rest. No feelings hurt.” I wanted to show how neighborly we on Little Creek Road were, even if her aunt Florence didn’t like ninety percent of our neighbors.

  “That would be great,” she gushed. “Aunt Florence has no idea what it’s like to move to a new town and start a new job, and then she puts something like gardening over on me.”

  “I’d love to help. Do you have a phone?” I asked her. “I can give you my number, and when you’re ready to work in the yard, give me a text or call or holler over the fence.”

  “Thank you.” We exchanged numbers, and she pushed her phone back in her pocket and bent down to grip the handles on both sides of the wheelbarrow. The thing teetered and tottered for a second before she finally got it lined up with the one wheel in the front. “Wait.” She put the legs back down on the ground. “Earlier you mentioned Grady and Julia. Did you say your last name was Butler?”

  “Yes. Bernie Butler,” I confirmed.

  “You owned a farm and now live in town, last name Butler.” She rattled off my stats. “So Grady Butler is your…”

  “Son!” I could feel my face light up. Anytime someone brought up Grady to me, I couldn’t help but swell with pride. “Do you know him?”

  “Know him,” Courtney’s jaw dropped, “yes. He talked to me after my job interview with the school board. I’m the new economics teacher and cheerleading coach at Sugar Creek High School.” She laid a flat hand on her chest. “He is a great guy. Too bad he’s taken,” she teased, and it didn’t sit too well with me.

  “I love Julia, his wife, as much as I love him. They are wonderful and expecting my first grand-baby.” I went on and on about how I gave them the farm so they could raise their family there. “I’m so sorry.” I put a hand out. “Once I get started talking about Grady and Julia, I can’t seem to stop.”

  “It’s fine.” She didn’t appear to be offended or put off. “It’s nice how he and Julia have someone who loves them so much. Not so much with my family. I guess it’s not a secret Aunt Florence doesn’t have children. She’s getting up in age, and my dad is worried sick about her.”

  “Is she okay?” Though I was worried something was wrong with Florence, I took the opportunity to be somewhat. . .shall we say, nosy. “I hope she’s okay.”

  “She’s been a little forgetful. And a little forgetful with her money. My dad sent me here to keep an eye on her for what now seems to be permanent until she dies. Not that I want her to die. It’s just hard to move to a new town and new job, then she expects me to do what she wants me to do.” Her face turned red. There was a bit of anger in her tone. “I’m jealous Grady has someone like you. I’m about done with people walking all over me. It’s about time for me to take my life back and take what’s mine.”

  I gulped. Courtney Gaines was a little bitter Betty, and I couldn’t help but wondering what it was all about.

  “Anyways, enough of my rambling. If Aunt Florence knew I’d even mentioned her name while talking to you, she’d lay down and die.” Courtney picked up the handles, but this time the one wheel in the front was much steadier. “I’ll give you a call when I get ready to put this down. I’m going to need some help.”

  “Sure. No problem.” I waved goodbye and watched her walk off.

  There was a little tickle in the back of my head that Courtney wanted to tell me more, and I was for sure willing to listen. There was nothing better than gardening and gossip.

  Chapter 3

  The alarm had to be set wrong because it felt like I’d just laid my head down when it dinged at four a.m., but when my phone rang, I knew it was the right time.

  “Good morning, sunshine!” Iris Peabody, my long-time best friend, was the only other person in my life, besides my coworkers, who got up around this time every day. “Time to make the donuts.” She giggled as she mimicked an old-time Dunkin’ Donuts commercial from when we were younger.

  Since Iris owned Pie in the Face Bakery, it was very appropriate for her to make such a statement, but not so appropriate to me at four in the morning when I’d yet to peel my eyelids up over my eyeballs.

  “Hello?” She was just way too chipper. “I see the day off has done you more harm than good.”

  I threw back the covers. Buster and Rowena both darted off the bed. Rowena ran right to her food bowl while Buster ran straight to the front door. Me, I went straight to my coffeepot that already brewed.

  “I have to admit, it was nice being able to do what I wanted.” I picked out the biggest mug I had and filled it up to the top. I put a scoop of kibble in Rowena’s bowl and carried my coffee to the front door, where I opened it and headed out with Buster.

  He ran out the door, skidded off the front porch, and darted around the house to go do his business in our fenced-in yard.

  “And what did you do with yourself?” Iris asked. “I didn’t bother ca
lling you because I wanted you to enjoy your day.”

  I could feel she had a big but…followed up by something she needed to tell me.

  “I had my potholder knitting class with Leotta at Social Knitwork, and I went to Leaf and Petal, where I got my vegetables to plant in my garden boxes.” I eased down into the rocking chair, and though it was the beginning of summer, there was still a nip in the morning air.

  I had a little basket of rolled-up blankets that sat between the two rocking chairs. It was more for decoration than cozy comfort, but this morning I grabbed a blanket, curled my legs up next to me, and put the blanket on my lap while I talked to Iris and sipped my coffee.

  Car lights shined down Little Creek Road, which was very odd since it was a dead-end street. All the houses were on the right side of the road, and a little creek ran along the left side. My house was the last one on the street.

  “Fabulous,” she said through the phone, and before my very eyes, it was her car that pulled up in front of my house. “Honey, I’m home,” she trilled through the phone before she laughed and hung up.

  Buster bolted back around the house and, in a barking fit, met Iris at the gate.

  “Hey, Buster. Auntie Iris didn’t forget about you.” She took a specialty dog treat from the lightweight jacket she had on and gave it to him. “I made those especially for my special fur clients.” She patted him on the head and walked up on the porch. “By the look on your sleepy face, you aren’t happy to see me.”

  “No, I love seeing you.” I gave her a sideways look. “It’s just that it’s four a.m., and I’d like to say it’s a bit odd you are standing on my front porch. Calling is normal, but in person makes me wonder what’s up.”

  I knew I was going to regret saying it because Iris was something different. She wasn’t a psychic or anything, but she got these feelings. It was hard to describe, but it was like she’d ask me if I’d talked to someone that I’d not had communication with in a long time, then out of the blue, I’d see the person or even get a phone call.