My goodness. Look at all the cars. It seems we have a welcoming committee,” Louise said as Craig parked the truck up the road from Grace Chapel Inn. “Good thing we left the trailer at your nursery.”
“You’re a celebrity,” Craig said.
“Not I. The pumpkin.”
When Craig opened the inn’s front door for Louise, a crowd met them, standing and applauding as she entered. She’d received applause for her piano playing from auditoriums filled with people, but this outpouring from her friends touched her heart. She spotted her sisters in the back of the room. They were both smiling proudly.
“Oh my. I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” She held up the trophy. “This is for Jane and Alice, who put as much work into watching out for that pumpkin as I put into making it grow.”
As they all laughed, Jane said, “We’ll treasure it always. You did get pictures, didn’t you?”
“I took lots of pictures,” Craig said.
“I want a photo of the winner for the paper,” Carlene said, making her way to the front of the room. “Is it parked outside?”
“No. We left it at Craig’s nursery,” Louise said. “Besides, I’ve had enough pictures taken.”
“You can look through my pictures and use what you want,” Craig told her. “They’re all digital.”
“Good. You’re famous, you know,” Carlene said.
“Only because this wasn’t a record-breaking year. At least not at Baskenburg. I’m sure there were larger pumpkins at other weigh-offs. The largest on record is six hundred pounds heavier than mine.”
Lloyd stepped forward. “It doesn’t matter. There’s always someone to break a record. On behalf of Acorn Hill, we’re proud of you. As mayor, I proclaim that’s official.”
“Are you going to grow another one next year?” Fred asked.
“Not on your life. Jane can if she wants or you can, Fred. Craig will be glad to supply the seeds. For myself, I don’t care if I never see or taste another pumpkin again.”
“That’s too bad,” Jane said, coming forward. “Dinner is ready. In your honor, we have stuffed pork loin with all the trimmings and for dessert, pumpkin cheesecake.”
“Pumpkin cheesecake?” Louise said. “Well … maybe just tonight. I love your pumpkin cheesecake.”
That earned a laugh as everyone filed into the dining room.
Rev. Thompson asked the blessing, thanking God for Jane and Craig’s safe trip and for the bountiful meal. Jane started the food around.
Louise stood.
“What do you need?” Jane asked. “I’ll get it.”
“I thought I’d have a glass of buttermilk.”
“Oh dear. We’re all out. I put what was left in the biscuits. I’ll get some more tomorrow.”
“No buttermilk? Oh dear.” Louise put her hands to her heart dramatically and sighed. “I suppose it’s all right. I won’t be needing it anymore now that the pumpkin is gone.”
“Why?” Jane gave her a suspicious look.
“That was my secret weapon. I’ve been fertilizing the pumpkin patch with buttermilk. It’s an old folk secret that I read about.” She beamed with satisfaction.
“Buttermilk?” Jane repeated. “You fed your plants buttermilk? I’ve never heard of such a thing. I thought you were drinking an awful lot of it.”
“Buttermilk?” Craig said. “Amazing. I can’t imagine why it would work, but something did the trick. I’ll have to research that. Who would have thought?” he muttered.
Louise entered the kitchen the following Friday afternoon. Jane was sitting at the kitchen table, putting a self-stick label on the back of a bag of cookies. Each small package held two cookies that the ANGELs had baked and bagged.
“Ah, the cookies for after the race. Let me help.” Louise sat at the table and picked up a sheet of printed labels. “Are these all oatmeal chocolate chip cookies?”
“Yes. The oatmeal raisin cookies are in the other box. We need to label them also.” Jane peeled off a label and stuck it to the back of a bag.
“Your friend Carrie Gleason just checked in,” Louise said.
Jane nodded. “I registered two women on her committee earlier. I told them you have piano lessons in the parlor this afternoon, but they’re welcome to meet in the library or the dining room. It sounds like they’re well organized.”
“Organizing is what they do, isn’t it?”
“I believe so. They put on charity races for different groups. I gather it’s a business, but it sounds like a passion too. The women are very excited about tomorrow.”
“Are they racing?” Louise put a finished bag in the box with the ones Jane had completed and picked up another bag.
“No. They’re handling registration and taking pledges. I think Carrie is the only one of the organizers who is running.” Jane smirked. “Figures.” She looked up at Louise. “Uh-oh. My attitude is showing. I’m afraid I haven’t done a very good job of letting go.”
“This weekend is going to be hard on you, isn’t it? Alice and I can serve breakfast, but you’re still going to run into her sooner or later. Would you like to pray about it?”
Jane looked at her sister. “I would. I’ve tried to think good thoughts about Carrie, but it isn’t working very well.”
“All right.” Louise put down her bag and reached out for Jane’s hands. Jane took her sister’s hands and bowed her head.
“Dear heavenly Father, this has been quite a time of learning humility in our household. Thank You for my sister who supported me and never teased me about my clumsy gardening. I know I didn’t grow that pumpkin on my own. It wouldn’t have grown so large if Jane hadn’t prepared the soil so well. It wouldn’t have grown so large without Your sunshine and rain. Now Lord, please pour Your sunshine on Jane’s heart and help her to let go of these feelings of inadequacy she has around Carrie. Help Jane see the special gifts You’ve given to her. Help us to be thankful for what we have. Lord, watch over Carrie and touch her with Your sunshine too. Bless her for helping people less fortunate, who are suffering from diabetes. We ask these things in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
Jane opened her eyes. “Amen. Thanks, Sis,” she whispered. “I’ll try to remember to pray for Carrie tonight before I go to bed and tomorrow, before we run.”
Louise smiled. “You’re welcome. I’ll keep praying for both of you.” She picked up another label and another bag. “So how’s the pledge drive going?”
“I’m not sure. Aunt Ethel is handling it and she’s gotten off to a good start. I’ve gotten some nice donations from my friends in San Francisco. Otherwise, I’ve left it up to her. She seems happy to do it.”
“I imagine so. Alice and I will stay on the sidelines with Aunt Ethel and cheer you on.”
“I couldn’t ask for better cheerleaders.” Jane got up and brought another cardboard box filled with bags of cookies to the table. “These are the oatmeal raisin cookies.”
“That’s a lot of cookies. How many bags did the girls make?”
“Two hundred. That’s how many Carrie said to plan for. I think a lot of people are staying in Potterston.”
“We have two more reservations to check in. Will you watch for them while I give piano lessons?”
“Sure will. I think I’ll put out popcorn and pumpkin bread for snacks tonight. I still have plenty of pumpkin and squash to use up.”
“Maybe next year we should cut back on the pumpkins.”
Jane grinned. “Do you think buttermilk would work on those long gourds? With your success, we could grow a ten-footer.”
“Oh no, you don’t. From now on, the only buttermilk we use around here is for cooking. Of course, I might have a little nip now and then.”
Jane shook her head. “I don’t know how you acquired a taste for that stuff, but you’re welcome to it.”
Carrie came down the stairs as Jane was checking a mother and daughter into the Garden Room.
“Hi, Jane. Nice room and the inn is lovely.”
“Thanks. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
“I’m sure that I will. Well, see you later. I’m heading into town. I’m looking forward to racing you tomorrow.” Carrie went out the front door, her short, dark hair bouncing with her lively steps.
I bet you are, Jane thought. She turned and smiled at the new guests. Both were below average height. The mother was heavyset. The teenager was of average build and had lovely smooth skin and bright hazel eyes. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your room. Are you here for the race or to enjoy the fall colors?” she asked as she started up the stairs.
“I’m running,” the teenager said. “Mom likes to shop.”
“I’ll watch the race from the sidelines, but I’m looking forward to browsing through your shops. We passed a bookstore and an antique shop. That’s my kind of sports,” the mother said. “I’m glad Tory is interested in exercise, though. What a lovely home you have. Maybe I’ll buy a book and sit in your living room and read.”
“You’re welcome to do that.” Jane told them about the different places they could get dinner. “I’ll set out a snack this evening. We’ll have an early breakfast for runners in the morning. Breakfast will also be served from seven to nine. Let me know if you need anything.”
She left them and went to the kitchen to make early preparations for Saturday’s breakfast. She planned to have it ready for Alice and Louise to serve while she readied herself for the race.
Jane got out her list. Three of their guests were entered in the Harvest 10K Run plus the two helpers. That left only two guests for regular breakfast. With the race in town, she’d planned conservative, health-conscious meals. She prepared batter for stone-ground corn waffles that Louise and Alice could toast in the morning. As the waffles cooked, she made piecrusts for broccoli-and-cheese quiches. She made an extra quiche for dinner and had just put everything in the oven when the bell rang at the reception desk. She started to remove her apron, then heard Louise’s voice in the hallway. She couldn’t help hearing Carrie’s voice also.
“I won’t be eating breakfast here,” she told Louise. “I need to be out early to help with setting up.”
“Jane is serving an early breakfast for runners and helpers,” Louise told her.
“That’s all right. I carry special food with me.”
Jane heard footsteps running up the stairs. The kitchen door opened and Louise came in.
“One less for breakfast,” she said.
“I know. I heard. She carries special food. Well, she doesn’t know what she’ll be missing. I have a great breakfast planned for the runners. Her loss.” Jane hated the negativity she heard in her own voice. She hated the knot that she felt in the vicinity of her heart. She gave Louise a pained look, trying to communicate her regret.
“It’s all right,” Louise said. “Treat her with kindness and respect, and let it go.”
Jane nodded. Let it go, she thought. How can I? I’m behaving like the self-centered person I accuse her of being. Lord help me get over this judgmental attitude I have toward Carrie. She probably has a good reason for carrying her own food. It’s not a reflection on me. She doesn’t even know me. Amen.
Jane was up and dressed for the race before she put out breakfast for the early birds. She set a platter of fresh cut fruit and a basket of whole-grain bran muffins on the table when she heard footsteps on the stairs. She looked out into the hall and saw Carrie.
“Good morning,” she called out. Carrie turned.
“Good morning. Are you in the mood to race?”
“I am. I just put out some fresh fruit and bran muffins, if you’d like some. I have homemade granola as well.”
Carrie looked inside the dining room. She was dressed in a royal blue outfit with racing stripes down the sides of her shorts and a matching top and jacket. She gave Jane a friendly smile. “Looks good, but I have a power bar. That’s my usual breakfast. Gives me just the right mix of carbs and fiber, and it’s low fat, you know. Maybe I’ll take some fruit.” She put several slices of apple and some dried cranberries in a napkin. “Gotta run.” She laughed at her own pun. “See you in a while.” She took off, walking quickly down the hall and out the front door.
The sun was up and there wasn’t a cloud or wisp of mist in the air. It promised to be warmer than usual. Jane preferred it cool for running, but she couldn’t complain. After a week of cold nights, the glorious autumn colors were popping out in force. The race was to start at nine o’clock, so she had plenty of time.
The two organizers who worked with Carrie came in. They greeted Jane, then sat down and ate quickly.
“This is wonderful,” one of them said as Jane poured coffee for them. “We don’t usually get such a great breakfast. May we take a muffin with us?”
“Of course. I’ll wrap them in plastic for you. Would you like to take coffee with you?
“Oh yes. That would be wonderful,” one of them said.
Jane went to the kitchen, wrapped the muffins, filled to-go cups with coffee and put lids on them. Then she gathered up the items and took them to the women. They thanked her and hurried off with their food to set up for the race.
A man who looked about forty came downstairs, dressed in black spandex running shorts and a long mesh T-shirt. His running shoes looked expensive. Jane had seen the man and his wife come in. The woman looked athletic, but obviously pregnant.
“Good morning. Joy is sleeping in. She’s tired a lot lately.” He glanced at Jane. “I see you’re dressed to run. Do you compete often?” He sat down and started filling his plate with small portions of everything.
“No. This is my first road race. I ran in high school, but that was a long time ago,” Jane said. In her mismatched modest outfit with inexpensive running shoes, she hardly looked like a habitual runner.
“Well, good luck. My wife and I run marathons, but we may have to curtail that for a while, although we’re looking for racing strollers now.”
“Fresh air is good for everyone,” Jane said, not sure what else to say.
“Yes. Joy can’t wait to get back to running.”
“Would you like some coffee?”
“No thanks. Not before I run. Joy is off caffeine too.”
“I have decaf or tea,” Jane said.
“Water is fine.” He took a long drink to prove it.
“I’ll let you eat then. Holler if you need anything. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
He’d left by the time Tory and her mother came downstairs. Jane glanced at her watch. There wasn’t much time before they needed to check in for the race.
“I’ll just have a small bite now with Tory. I’ll come back for breakfast after she checks in.”
They both filled their plates with fruit. Tory spread peanut butter on an apple slice and ate a handful of granola.
“Now watch what you eat,” her mother admonished.
“I know, Mom,” Tory said. “I have to have enough energy to make it through the race.”
“All right, dear.” She turned to Jane. “I’d love coffee, thank you. Do you have hazelnut creamer?”
“Yes.” Jane handed her a small cream pitcher. “This one is hazelnut.”
Tory reached for a muffin. Jane had chosen them especially for the runners’ breakfast. They were Clarissa’s heart-healthy muffins with oat bran, wheat bran, pineapple and raisins. They provided plenty of carbohydrates and protein.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?” Jane asked.
“No, thank you. We need to go,” the mother said, looking at her watch. “Come on, Tory.”
“Okay, Mom.” Tory stood, leaving the muffin untouched.
“Let me get a paper plate for you,” Jane said.
“No, thanks. I’ve had enough,” Tory said. She grabbed half a banana and followed her mother out of the room.
Jane carried their plates to the kitchen. Alice had taken the quiches out of the refrigerator. Louise was stirring a pan of long-cooking oatmeal.
“Isn’t it time for you to leave?” Alice asked.
“Yes. I’m just about ready.” Jane removed her apron.
“We’ll be praying for you,” Louise said. “Just remember, reach for the prize.”
Alice gave them a quizzical look. “Yes, we’ll be praying,” she said. “If we can get the guests fed in time, we’ll meet you at the finish line.”
“Thanks.” Jane gave them a smile, then went out the back door and jogged toward downtown.