The Potluck Club by Linda Evans Shepherd & Eva Marie Everson

Author:Linda Evans Shepherd & Eva Marie Everson [Shepherd, Linda Evans & Everson, Eva Marie]
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Revell
Published: 2010-07-29T16:00:00+00:00

25

She’s got something

on her mind . . .

Clay drove his jeep to Summit View’s small public library. He found an empty parking space, parallel parked, and then scurried toward the door, glancing toward nearby Grace Church and its next-door parsonage. He stopped cold. Lizzie Prattle was sitting in her car, arms wrapped around the steering wheel and her head resting on her forearms. Even from where he stood, Clay could see that she was crying.

She had something heavy weighing on her mind, he could tell. She must have been visiting with Jan, he decided, then breathed a deep sigh through his nostrils. This was one of those things he didn’t understand in life . . . about God, and all.

As soon as Lizzie straightened and started her car, he turned, grabbed hold of the front door handle, and slipped inside where he was met by the glare of the eagle-eyed Martha Nell Kincaid, a woman who had served as head librarian since about five minutes after God capped the mountains with snow, and who now sat behind a large oak desk not two feet from the front door.

“Mr. Whitefield.” She used his surname as she’d always done, even when Clay had been a boy.

“Mrs. Kincaid,” he returned.

“What can we help you with today?” She glanced up at his Gold Rush News cap.

Clay pulled the cap from his head, felt the cool of the air tickle his scalp. No one could say that Clay’s mother had raised him to be rude and manner-less. “Ah . . . I’d like to look at a few of the old yearbooks if it’s not too much trouble.”

Mrs. Kincaid smiled, showing off a slight overbite. “High school, middle school, or elementary?”

“High school.”

She stood. “Year?” she asked, making her way to a small room a few yards away.

“Ah, mid-eighties. Say eighty-six to ninety.”

Mrs. Kincaid turned at the doorway, crossing her arms. “Looking for anything in particular?” She seemed to barricade him from entering the room.

Clay felt himself beginning to sweat. “Official business,” he said.

“Oh, I see.” She turned and entered the room, allowing him to do the same, and a few minutes later, left him alone with a pile of musty books filled with old black and whites, a splattering of color, and enough dreams to fill several lifetimes. With the turn of each page, he was taken back to a time and place when he’d ruled the school’s newsroom. A time when he’d determined each item to be placed in the very yearbooks spread out before him.

He pored over every detail of every glossy page, looking for a face he’d always found endearing, noting the times hers was linked with the boy she was nearly always seen with around campus. He flinched. He wished he’d worn more deodorant than he had put on that morning. He wiped sweat from his forehead.

Donna Vesey and Wade Gage had been quite the couple in their day.

Now Clay couldn’t help but remember what little he knew about their courtship—and wonder just what had gone so wrong with Summit View’s most perfect couple.

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