Mary’s knee was stiff. She limped a little as she wrapped her robe more tightly around her on her way to the kitchen. Millie was already standing at the back door, ready to go out. Mary opened it, watched the little dog bolt down the stairs, closed it again, walked, or rather limped, over to the counter and pushed the button on the coffeepot. It hadn’t been a particularly good night. Questions about how to make the rummage sale a success to why Miss Emilie was in the church hall and who she’d been with had refused to leave her alone until early this morning, when she’d finally fallen into a deep sleep, and she was running late. Again. This wasn’t like her. Perhaps a good hot shower would help. If she was going to climb hills, or even take long walks, she’d better work up to it more gradually. Millie came back in, looking for breakfast. Mary obliged then headed for the shower, holding a full cup of coffee. It was already seven thirty, and she had to be at St Mark’s for her preschool Easter egg hunt meeting by nine. Then she had to meet Ellen at the house and somewhere in there she wanted to talk to Glen Manning. There were some things about the withdrawals Miss Emilie had made that bothered her, but not as much as where the money was now, or how to go about finding it.
She took a look at the weather through her bedroom window before laying her clothes on her bed. It hadn’t changed. Overcast with possible rain. The radio confirmed it: unusually chilly for the first of April. Sweatpants and a sweater were called for. Thinking spring couldn’t get here fast enough, she turned on the shower.
The meeting was held in a classroom in the Sunday school building. There weren’t too many people there. Les, of course, a few young mothers with babies in strollers and more than a few grandmothers. Joy was one of them. She stared at Millie as if she disapproved of her presence. Mary readied herself to defend Millie’s right to attend but Joy surprised her.
‘Millie needs her “do” done.’
‘I’m going to make an appointment with Krissie later this week.’
Joy nodded. ‘Let’s get this over. I’ve got bread rising and need to get back to it.’
Why she was so surprised, she didn’t know. Joy was the only woman Mary knew, other than herself, who still baked her own bread. Even she didn’t as much as she used to. The new bakery down on Walnut made oatmeal bread every bit as good as she did, and all she had to do was take it home and slice it. She sighed. Maybe she was getting old. However …
‘All right, everyone. Here’s what I’ve got so far. If I’ve forgotten anything, let me know. Our biggest problem is keeping the older grade school boys out of the roped-off area while the little ones are hunting. That and who’ll volunteer to wear the bunny costume.’
They were done by nine thirty. Mothers volunteered fathers to guard the roped-off area against the young egg invaders. It was unanimously decided each child would have only one adult inside the egg hunting area. All picture-taking grandparents would have to stay behind the ropes, as well as older siblings. Designated egg hiders had been assigned and a committee of three delegated to fill the plastic eggs the committee had purchased with donated funds. They hadn’t asked for much money and had collected enough to buy the eggs, the candy that would be inside and have a reserve of baskets for any child whose family couldn’t afford one. Evidently most parents decided it was a small price to pay to keep their toddlers from being run over at the town Easter egg hunt held each year in the park. The only question unanswered was who would wear the bunny costume. Mary was sure she could come up with someone and that someone wouldn’t be her.
She was gathering up her now-empty folder and checking to make sure she had everything in her tote bag when Ysabel walked in. She looked around the empty room. ‘That had to be the fastest committee meeting I’ve ever heard of. How did you do it?’
Mary smiled. ‘I had everything ready and everyone already assigned to tasks so there wasn’t much discussion. Besides, they all had things to do, especially those young mothers. They wanted to get to the store, or do whatever else that was easier without the help of a three- or four-year-old. It’s a great motivator.’
Ysabel laughed. ‘I remember those days well.’ Her smile faded. ‘This is a wonderful idea, Mary. I watched the little ones get run over in the park last year. The boys aren’t mean but the thrill of the hunt overcame them. The babies never had a chance. This way the older children can still have their hunt in the park and the babies can have one of their own. It should be a lot better, and having it on the church lawn works just fine. The Saturday before Palm Sunday is perfect. Holy Week is always hectic – so many church functions. This is a good choice.’
Mary certainly hoped so. She had also watched the carnage at the park. More than one young child had come out of the egg hunt area in tears; more than one parent was ready to throttle someone else’s older child who, in the frenzy to find the most eggs, had pushed little ones aside, or worse, snatched eggs out of their baskets. Mary had vowed then and there that this year would be different. She hoped it would also be a success. That would be defined by how much fun the children had and how relieved the parents felt.
‘Keep your fingers crossed,’ she told Ysabel with a smile. On a more sober note, she asked, ‘I’ve put the word out the rummage sale is this Thursday. It’s all over the news and I think we’ll have a good turnout. Are we putting a strain on you, tying up the hall all week?’
‘Not really. We’ve been able to postpone or cancel the few things that were scheduled. However, the middle-school dance is Friday night. Will you have everything cleared out by Friday morning so the children can decorate?’
Mary set her tote on one of the small tables. Millie lay beside it, her head on her paws. She looked up at Mary, decided they weren’t yet ready to move and dropped her head back down.
‘What time do you need it on Friday?’
‘Mid-morning would be great. Caleb will clean, no matter how good you leave it, and the kids can start after lunch.’
‘We’ll have stuff that doesn’t sell – we always do. However, Bob, who runs the food bank and the homeless program, is going to take what’s left to their distribution center. It will all be gone after we close. All the tables will be put back and the dressing area taken down … we close our doors at four and should be out of the hall by six. We’ll come back early Friday to make sure everything is cleared out. Caleb shouldn’t have much to do. The children can start decorating by lunchtime. Will that be soon enough?’
Ysabel nodded. ‘That should work out fine.’
Mary thought there was relief in her voice as well as a little amusement.
‘You evidently don’t know Caleb. He acts as if the hall and its upkeep were his exclusive responsibility. He hovers over every event, making sure no one does anything they’re not supposed to. He’s obsessive.’
Mary thought you could substitute bossy and controlling for obsessive, but maybe it amounted to the same thing. ‘Yes. He’s very dedicated.’ She picked up her tote, pulled out her cell phone and checked the time. If she hurried, she might have time to pay Glen Manning a visit at the bank before she had to meet Ellen. Something was bothering her and she wanted to talk to him.
‘I hope all my volunteers are as dedicated,’ Mary continued. ‘Although I won’t need as many as those who turned up on Wednesday. Half the town was in the hall, helping to set up. Gloria Sutherland was the only person I can remember who wasn’t there.’
Millie was on her feet and heading for the door. Mary turned toward Ysabel to say goodbye but was stopped by the worried look on Ysabel’s face.
‘Gloria was there. I remember because I wondered why. Gloria never volunteers for anything. She stood over in one corner, watching Lorraine and Miss Emilie. I was busy and forgot about her, but after they left, Miss Emilie in tears, I looked for Gloria again. She knew Miss Emilie so well, I thought she could help, but she was gone.’ The worried look on Ysabel’s face intensified. ‘Should I have said something to someone?’
Mary reached out and touched Ysabel on the shoulder. ‘I can’t think why you should have. Most of the people there were trying to help, but plenty came to get an advance look at what they might want to grab when the doors opened. Gloria wasn’t the only one who didn’t come to work.’
Once again, relief flooded Ysabel’s face. ‘I’m sure you’re right. Thanks, Mary. Don’t worry about locking up. The Quilting Bees are going to use this room for their meeting this morning. I’ll come back and lock the whole building after the preschool lets out.’ She hurried out.
Mary followed more slowly, Millie by her side. Ysabel had dismissed any thought of Gloria’s rather surprising visit to the rummage sale setup, but Mary found she couldn’t. Why had Gloria shown up and why hadn’t she jumped right in when she saw Miss Emilie was upset? That wasn’t like her. Mary was once more lost in thought as she and Millie headed for the bank.