Undisclosed: A Humorous and Romantic Cozy by Blackburn Cindy

Author:Blackburn, Cindy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CB Mysteries
Published: 2019-10-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

“Not a word about this to Maxine,” Dad warned as we left the house. “I invited her to ride to Bingo with us.”

“Oo-la-la,” I sang as we trudged along toward her house. “You invited Maxine.”

“’Tis the season to be neighborly, girl.”

“Neighborly,” I was singing when Maxine opened her door.

“Come in, come in!” She waved us forward.

Dad turned to me. “Not one word.” He gave me the standard I am your father look and called to Maxine. “We’re running a bit late I’m afraid.”

“Oh, but this will only take a minute.” She again beckoned us inside and led us into the room she calls her parlor. “Ta-Daaa!” She held both arms wide and beamed, and I absolutely understood why. The quilt spread out and displayed over her couch was absolutely gorgeous. “I finished it last night,” she said. “Do you like it, Cassie honey?”

“Like it?” I stepped forward and touched it gently. “It’s amazing.”

And it really was. Maxine had sewn a quintessential Vermont scene into her latest creation—blue skies and green mountains in the background, and a red barn and several black and white Holstein cows in the foreground.

“A true work of art,” my father told her.

“Do you think Truman will like it?”

Say what?

I spun around. “No, Maxine,” I said firmly. “You cannot give something this special to Truman.”

“Silly! Of course I can. That’s the point.”

“The point?”

She reminded me it would be “the little tyke’s” first Christmas on Leftside Lane. “We want to make it special, don’t we?” she asked. “He still likes cows, doesn’t he?”

My father answered that he did, while I insisted my eyes were watering because it was so darn cold outside.

***

I’m happy to report I had a grip on my emotions by the time we actually did get back outside. But then the stupid “For Sale” sign on Joe’s lawn did a number on me. Hello. It did a number on all three of us. My father, Maxine, and I stood at my car and stared.

Maxine reached out and took my hand—a tight grip despite her gloves, and mine. “Is everything alright between you and Joe?” She blinked her bulbous eyes at me, but I refused to take the bait.

“Everything is fine,” I said casually, and casually pulled away from her grip.

“But, Cassie honey, I couldn’t help but notice a bit of tension between you two while we were decorating your tree the other night.”

“Time for Bingo,” I reminded her and turned to my car.

Maxine followed, and my father held the door for her. “I’m sure you and Joe will work it out,” she said.

“Work what out?” I asked.

I refused to acknowledge the look my father was throwing at me and ordered everyone in the car, and as I steered us onto Leftside lane, I also steered the conversation away from—far, far away from—Josiah Wylie and his stupid, stupid “For Sale” sign. I thanked Maxine for her Lake Bess Lore column. “Truman loved seeing his name in print,” I told her.

“Good! Everyone is very interested,” she said.

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