Joyous Lies by Margaret Ann Spence

Author:Margaret Ann Spence [Spence, Margaret Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Conservation; Community; Country Setting; Film Shoot; Hippies; Knitting; Mothers and Daughters; Women's Fiction
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2020-12-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

“Hi, honey. Nice surprise!” A deep voice boomed out, scaring up a flurry of birds settling for the night. Curtis and Ray, coming toward Maelle as she picked her way carefully by the fields, grinned at her with avuncular fondness. Mud squelched under their feet. “We’re just knocking off for the day. Staying for dinner? Come in.”

They’d arrived at a low sprawling building to which Curtis had made many additions over the years. Inside, Curtis heeled off his boots, tossing them on a mat. Ray did the same.

In the large open room, anchored by a huge wall of brick enclosing a hand-made pizza oven, Curtis switched on the space heater which helped solar panels warm the house and waved his guests toward the wooden table and chairs he’d made himself.

As a child, Maelle had spent plenty of time in this house, enjoying Curtis and Sally’s convivial natures and their artistic streak. She noted at the back of her mind the shabbiness of the pagoda house compared to this demonstration of its owners’ house pride.

The large room had been freshly painted, and Curtis’s glowing canvases hung on every wall. In one corner of the room stood an easel, with paint cans and brushes resting on a shelf nearby.

“Art sales going well, Curtis?” Maelle asked.

“You bet. The street festivals are over for the season, but a gallery in the city contacted me about an exhibition. Just last week.” He headed toward the refrigerator. “Can’t believe it, after all these years.”

“Power of persistence.” Ray nodded.

Curtis pulled out two beers from the fridge, passed one each to Ray and Maelle, who had sat down at the table, and reached in for another. He lifted the can’s tab with his pinky, showing hands dark with grime and paint stains. He took a swig, and beer dribbled down his grizzled beard.

Maelle drank. The fizz unsettled her stomach. “That’s great, Curtis. Of course, if Joyous Woods is sold and paved over with roads and shops, you’ll be able to sell your work right here.” Maelle could hear sarcasm sour her voice.

“Hey, hey. What’s going on? Why so angry all of a sudden?”

Maelle batted away a fly. It buzzed off, annoyed, then circled her again. Perspiration dampened her underarms and her forehead. Probably the fly could smell her sweat. “Surely you’ve heard the news. This land’s going to be sold. Neil doesn’t really own it, and his sister and brother want to unload it.”

Ray raised his eyebrows, questioning. Curtis shook his head. “Just a rumor, sweetheart.”

“I was at the funeral when they discussed it.”

“Drink your beer, Maelle. It’s not your concern. We’re a team here. The Circle.”

Maelle kicked her chair rail. These guys. So radical they thought they were, but so old-fashioned, too. Like the Circle was some kind of corporate structure. That was it! If the Circle was the decision-making body, then they were responsible, all of them, for the rabbit scheme. She studied their faces. They revealed nothing.

“Ray, Curtis. I have to ask you something.” She softened her tone.

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