Eyes on the Prize

by Sunni Jeffers

  The judges started with the smaller pumpkins and advanced to the larger ones. Louise watched the numbers gradually rise on the pumpkin scale. Five hundred. Six hundred. Eight hundred. Nine hundred. So far, none was as large as hers, but she had no idea if Craig’s weight estimations were on target.

  The forklift brought a huge pumpkin to the scale. Louise thought it looked larger than hers. The numbers whizzed away, stopping on 1,027. Surely that was the winner. She saw Delmer and Genevieve Wesley step up to the scale. The crowd applauded. The man handed them a piece of paper, then scrawled the weight on the pumpkin in black marker. Louise sighed. She chose to be happy for the man, even if he was a grouch. He certainly looked happy now. She thought he glanced her way, but he didn’t seem to recognize her. The forklift removed his pumpkin.

  The next pumpkin weighed thirty pounds less. The following one looked smaller, but weighed within three pounds of Delmer’s pumpkin.

  Finally, they brought Louise’s pumpkin to the scale. Craig went closer to get a picture. Louise followed him so that she was standing right in front of the scale.

  The numbers whirred past eight hundred, nine hundred, one thousand, and finally stopped at 1,040.2 pounds. Louise blinked and looked again. The crowd began to cheer.

  “Go get the paper,” Craig said, nudging her elbow.

  “Oh.” She stepped forward and received a copy of the official weight. They’d already marked the pumpkin. Several people congratulated her as she went back to stand by Craig.

  “I knew you had a winner,” Harry said. “Congratulations.”

  “They aren’t finished,” she said.

  “None of the rest are even close,” he said.

  They weighed three more pumpkins. They were all less than a thousand pounds.

  “And the winner is …” The announcer waited for a drum roll. “Louise Smith of Acorn Hill with a pumpkin at one thousand forty point two pounds. Will the top three entrants come accept your prizes,” the announcer said.

  The band struck up a victory song that Louise remembered from college football games. In a daze, she went up front. The music stopped and the announcer started with third place. Then Delmer accepted second place. He stood next to her while she accepted the winning trophy. The announcer congratulated her and handed her the microphone. “Would you like to say a few words?” he asked her.

  Louise didn’t know what to say. She looked at Craig, who was grinning and clapping and nodding encouragement.

  “Tell your secret,” Delmer said beside her.

  “Oh dear.” Louise held the microphone near her mouth. “Thank you. I’m stunned to win this competition,” she said. “I have to confess, I am not a gardener, but I had exceptional seeds, a sister who knows how to prepare a garden, and a dear friend, our local nurseryman, Craig Tracy, who advised me all the way. They all share the credit for this prize. To all of you who grow these amazing pumpkins every year, you have my utmost respect,” she said, looking at the man beside her. “Thank you all.”

  Louise handed back the microphone to the announcer. The crowd cheered. The band struck up a boisterous rendition of “Happy Days Are Here Again.”

  “Congratulations,” Delmer said, reaching out to shake her hand. “You raised a beauty.”

  “Thank you. So did you. I can’t believe mine weighs more than yours. Could the scale be wrong?” she said.

  “Not a chance,” he said.

  The crowd began to disperse. Delmer stayed next to her until they were out of earshot of everyone.

  “I want to apologize for my bad manners at your inn. I’m glad you won.”

  Louise stared at him. “You are? You’ve worked hard to grow the biggest pumpkin. Mine is a fluke.”

  “No. I got carried away. Winning became so important to me, I became jealous when I heard about your pumpkin. I went to the inn to check it out.” He paused, looking very uncomfortable. “I snuck into your garden before dawn.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. My sister saw you. She’d been out jogging. She also saw your friend go into the garden and interrupt you.”

  Delmer hung his head and nodded. “I owe him an apology too. And a thank-you, for stopping me from doing something nasty.”

  “Would you really have harmed my pumpkin?” Louise asked.

  “I don’t know. I guess I’ll never know. But your kindness to Genevieve and me, even when I was so rude, made me realize there are more important things than winning.”

  “Well, let’s give you the benefit of the doubt. At any rate, I don’t intend to do this again,” Louise said. “One giant pumpkin is enough for me. It’s turned my life upside down.”

  Delmer gave her a hint of a smile. “You don’t like the limelight, do you?”

  “Not really,” she said. “If I’d known, I never would have planted those seeds.”

  “Congratulations,” Genevieve said, coming up next to her husband. “I heard your comment, Louise. Why did you plant them, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “To prove to my sister that I could grow something. Jane is the gardener in our family. I’d seen a patch of giant pumpkins years ago and I was so impressed, I bought a few seeds as souvenirs. Then I forgot about them. This year I found the seeds and decided to give them a try. I thought if I managed to grow anything, maybe it would be respectable.”

  Delmer laughed. “Much more than respectable,” he said. “I don’t suppose I could talk you out of some seeds.”

  “My friend Craig will have the seeds. I’m sure he’d be happy to sell you some. He has a flower shop and nursery in Acorn Hill.”

  “Did he advise you on fertilizer?” Delmer asked.

  “No. I tried something I had read about in a novel, but truly, I have to thank the Lord and my sister for my success. You’re a gardener, perhaps you’ve heard the verse about sowing and reaping.”

  “Oh yes,” Genevieve said. “One person plants and another harvests, but the Lord makes the crop grow. Is that the one you mean?”

  “That’s it. I looked it up, because I was puzzling over this great pumpkin. I did feed it something unusual, but I had no control over its success. Not really. The Bible says, ‘So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow’ (1 Corinthians 3:7). My sister has been working the garden and building up the soil for a long time. I came along and planted these little seeds that someone else provided. And that’s what came of it,” she said, pointing to her pumpkin.

  “If you’re not going to raise them again, would you tell me what you fed it?” Genevieve asked.

  “Why not?” Louise leaned forward and whispered in Genevieve’s ear.

  The lady gave her a stunned look. “You’re kidding.”

  “That’s the honest truth. Six ounces every day.”

  Genevieve looked at her husband, then at Louise, and began laughing.

  “What did she say?” Delmer asked.

  Still laughing, his wife said, “I’ll tell you later, after I’ve sworn you to secrecy.”

  “This is serious business,” he said. “If it’ll help me grow a champion, you can be sure I’ll never tell.”

  “Come visit us again sometime,” Louise said. “I promise we won’t serve pumpkin for breakfast.”

  “We’d be delighted,” Genevieve said. “Now go enjoy the carnival. They have pie-eating contests and they’ll be cutting up the entries in the largest pumpkin pie contest over there,” she said, pointing to a large striped tent.

  “Thanks. We will, but we want to be back in Acorn Hill before dark, so we won’t be able to stay long.” Louise said good-bye and went to join Craig, who was waiting patiently.

  Craig frowned in the Wesleys’ direction. “I couldn’t help overhearing part of your conversation. That’s the guy who wanted to sabotage your pumpkin?”

  Louise nodded. “He apologized. He’s had a change of heart.”

  “That’s good. Gardening is such a peaceable, happy occupation,
I can’t imagine anyone getting so caught up in winning a competition that he becomes bitter.”

  “Neither can I. But I’ve learned something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It takes a lot of work to produce a successful garden. You and Jane have my total admiration and respect.”

  Craig smiled and touched the brim of his cap, giving her a slight bow. “Thank you, ma’am. And your wonderful seeds are going to help my business. Will you share your fertilizer secret with me?”

  “Yes, but not until I tell Jane and Alice. Speaking of whom, I’d better call them with the good news.”

  “Here. Use my cell phone. I’ll go see about getting our prize beauty loaded for the trip home.”

  Louise smiled as she punched the numbers into the little phone. Jane and Alice were going to flip over her news.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  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.”

&n
bsp; “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.