Part 31 (2/2)
”Do they still drop handkerchiefs?” Lisa wanted to know.
”I don't know, but Mrs. Robbins does. She's eighty-five if she's a day, so she might be a little behind the times.”
The Boy Scouts came next and then Bonnie Surma's Brownies, followed by the Jordan High marching band. Hannah resisted the urge to cover her ears, especially when they stopped in the middle of her block to play. Their music was slightly less dreadful than before, and they were so enthusiastic, it made up for a mult.i.tude of missed notes and individual struggles with the tempo. Thankfully, blessedly, the bandleader had cut the piccolo obbligato and Hannah breathed a sigh of relief.
Delores, who didn't know a sharp from a natural, tapped Hannah on the shoulder after they'd finished playing and marched on. ”Weren't they just wonderful?”
Hannah sputtered for a moment, trying to think of something honest to say. ”They improved a lot from last year.”
Several more floats rolled by, but they couldn't hold a candle to Andrea's creation. Hannah applauded for the veterans, resplendent in uniforms that had been retrieved from trunks in dusty attics, and she did her share of clapping for The Lake Eden Players, who were dressed in the costumes they'd wear later for their reenactment of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. When the parade was over and 286 she still hadn't seen Bridget Murphy's lemon car, Hannah figured that Cyril had fixed it to save himself the embarra.s.sment.
”That's it,” Norman said, folding up his chair. ”I'm going to take these back to the funeral home and then I'll develop the film.”
”These chairs are from the funeral home?” Hannah asked, not sure exactly how she felt about that.
”I borrowed them last night. Digger said to take as many as I needed. Professional courtesy, you know.”
”Professional courtesy?”
”He keeps hoping I'll send him some business.”
”You mean like one of your patients dying?”
Norman shrugged, but there was a twinkle in his eye. ”You know what people say about root ca.n.a.ls. They're killers.”
Hannah laughed as she helped Norman load the folding chairs in his trunk and she was still grinning when he drove away. Being with Norman always made her feel good. Then she said good-bye to the little group a.s.sembled on the sidewalk, went inside The Cookie Jar to help Lisa load up the cupcakes, and headed off to attend the munic.i.p.al band concert before she drove out to the lake for an afternoon of games and other entertainment.
Hannah arrived at the area of lakesh.o.r.e that had been designated for public parking with a smile on her face. The band concert in the park had been wonderful. The Lake Eden Munic.i.p.al Band was a mixed conglomeration of musicians who had settled in the area. Anyone who wanted to put horn or woodwind in hand and practice every week at the community center was welcome. They'd played their full repertoire of Sousa marches and ended with the ever popular strains of ”G.o.d Bless America.”
The town had turned out in full force at Eden Lake and Hannah trolled the parking area in vain for a spot. She finally settled for putting her truck in four-wheel drive and LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER.
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parking at the very edge of the lot, on top of the shoulder of the road.
Several hours later, after listening to two boring political speeches, attending one of the Lake Eden Players' performances, and watching some of the games and contests, she wandered over to the picnic area to see if there was anything she could do to help Edna Ferguson, who was in charge of the potluck dinner.
”Hi, Edna,” Hannah said, trying not to stare at the older woman's hair. Edna's frizzy gray curls had undergone a transformation since the last time Hannah had seen her. Instead of Edna's natural steel gray, her curls were now blue.
”I know. Looks like you-know-what,” Edna said, reaching up to swat at her curls. ”Bertie talked me into a rinse the last time I was in and she didn't tell me it would take weeks to wash out.”
”It looks very... colorful.”
”That's tactful, Hannah, especially for you.” Edna chuckled. ”All I need is a couple of red and white bows and I'll be all decked out for the Fourth.”
”I came over to see if there was anything I could ...”
”Of course there is,” Edna interrupted her. ”You know no one else ever shows up when there's work to be done. What's the matter? Those two boyfriends of yours desert you?”
Hannah laughed. It was a waste of time to take offense at anything Edna said. She was outspoken and everyone knew it. ”Not exactly. Mike had to go back to the station and Norman's home, developing the film he took of the parade. I'm all yours, Edna.”
”Well good! You're a lot more help than some people I could name. I suppose your sister's bringing her Jell-O mold again. None of these young girls know how to cook. They're not like you and me.”
Hannah bit back a choice retort. Edna was sixty if she was a day, and that made her at least thirty years older than Hannah. She'd lived in Lake Eden all her life and that gave Hannah an idea, especially since Edna had grown up on the 288 family farm right next to the Voelker place. ”You knew Mrs. Voelker, didn't you, Edna?”
”Sure, I did. She put up the best peach jam in the county. Everybody around was real sorry when she got in that accident and ended up in the wheelchair. No more peach jam for the neighbors.”
Hannah nodded, wondering if people would speak of her that way when she was dead, mourning not her, but the loss of her cookies. ”Do you remember a boy named Speedy that visited Mrs. Voelker?”
”Speedy?” Edna started to shake her head. ”No, I don't think ... Yes, I do! He was some kind of s.h.i.+rttail relation and he spent a whole summer with her. That boy was a regular fis.h.i.+ng fool. He used to race through his ch.o.r.es so he could get down to the lake to fish. That's why she called him Speedy. Half the time she ended up stripping the cows herself after the morning milking, but she told us he had a hard time at home and she was going to see he had fun for a change.”
”Do you remember Speedy's real name?”
Edna sighed. ”Can't say as I do. I suppose I knew it back then, but that was a long time ago.”
”Will you tell me if you think of it?”
”Sure will. So, is she?”
Hannah blinked. Edna had obviously switched to another topic of conversation. ”Is she what?”
”Bringing her Jell-O mold. Andrea, that is.”
”Oh!” Hannah switched gears. ”Not this time. She's bringing chips and dip for the appetizer table.”
”Well, heaven be praised! One less Jell-O bowl to contend with. Why don't you dump some ice in the bottom of some of those coolers we borrowed so we can refrigerate the things that we have to keep chilled. You didn't bring a dessert with whipped cream, did you?”
”Would I do something like that?” Hannah asked, grinning at Edna.
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”No, I don't guess you would. Marge Beeseman will though. You mark my words. And she'll put the whipped cream on at home, not leave it in the can the way it said to do in the flyer. And then she'll complain because it drooped!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven.
4 6”
i /Tmm!” Hannah voiced her approval as she tasted the IVJLbeef Norman had barbecued. ”Delicious.”
”Thanks, Hannah.” Norman, who was sitting on her right side at one of the picnic tables, looked pleased by the compliment ”It sure is,” Mike commented from his spot at Hannah's left side. ”I used to do a little barbecuing, but my beef was never this good.”
”It's all in the sauce. A cut like this has to be marinated overnight. That way the flavor gets all the way through. It's not too much garlic for you?”
”Just right,” Mike said, cutting off another bite. ”Any less would be lost and any more would be overdoing it. I'd sure like that sauce recipe if you're giving it out.”
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