Granny Forks a Fugitive
(A Fuchsia, Minnesota Mystery)
Julie Seedorf
Acknowledgements
Thank you to Boneyard Coffee and Tea in Champagne, Illinois, for allowing Granny to drink their specialty coffee at the Pink Percolator.
Also thanks to author Barbara Jean Coast allowing me to mention her book, A Nate To Remember as one of Granny’s reading pleasures.
Memories are always front and center when I write, and this book was not any different. I had to include Hanson Drugstore and their soda fountain and Whirlawhip machine that was so much a part of my life growing up and also in my early adult years when I actually got to operate the machine––sometimes with a little complaining. It was complicated and messy to clean, but those Whirlawhips were yummy to eat.
I also would like to thank my publishing company, Cozy Cat Press, and editor Patricia Rockwell for believing in me.
I dedicate this book to my family. Families are occasionally complicated and messy, but the love we feel for one another, never leaves us. I love you with all my heart.
CHAPTER ONE
The burlap bag, tied to a branch on the oak tree, bulky in size and swaying in the wind, was begging to be hit or punctured, so its contents would spill to the ground like confetti showering a celebration on those who stood below.
Hermiony raised the bat high over her head and took a swing, connecting with the unsightly, uneven bag. The bag moved but didn’t break. She hit it again, harder. Still the bag refused to give up its contents.
Dropping the bat and picking up a stick that had fallen to the ground in the wind, Hermiony took a poke at the bag, tearing a small hole in its side. Still the contents stayed comfortably wrapped in the depths of the bag.
Putting the stick down, Hermiony backed up at an angle from the tree, and took a running leap. Her feet lifted her high enough off the ground so she was able to grab the bag where it had ripped from being poked with the twig. Her body hanging from the bag, she pulled hard, but the tree would not let go of the bag. It was a tug of war between Hermiony and the tree. Hermiony tugged and the tree tugged back. All the while, Hermiony’s legs dangled in the wind as she tried to hold on and rip open the treasure inside of the bag.
Wisps as soft as feathers landed on Granny’s face, whispering to her through her dream. She opened one eye and felt her arm above her head being pulled in the direction of the side of the room. Quickly opening the other eye, she noticed feathers dancing over her face, body, and bed. All of a sudden, her arm let go from whatever she’d been holding on to, and more feathers drifted down, creating a feather snowstorm in her bedroom.
Bleat! Bleat!
“Mrs. Bleaty!” Granny yelped as she sat up, realizing that she and Mrs. Bleaty, her goat, had been having a pillow fight while she’d slept, and that the pillow had won. Sitting up in bed, Granny grabbed the empty pillow casing away from Mrs. Bleaty.
“Why aren’t you over at Silas Crickett’s this morning badgering Radish?” Granny asked the goat. Usually, Mrs. Bleaty, Baskerville, and the shysters visited Franklin, Granny’s fiancé, or Silas Crickett, Granny’s neighbor, at this time of the morning.
Granny grabbed her cell phone and checked the time. She’d overslept. It was almost nine o’clock. Must have been the wine and chocolates, thought Granny. Grabbing the bedpost, she steadied her body before her feet hit the floor. Granny knew her single days were numbered and she cherished her evenings, relaxing in bed with her wine and chocolates, reading a good book, and wearing her risqué hot pink night clothes. Although she supposed when she got married, she might surprise Franklin once in a while with the nighttime attire she always purchased from Red Hot Momma’s Boutique. However, it wouldn’t do for it to be an every night kind of thing. She would save her nightwear for special occasions––such as when she did something Franklin might not approve of. Red Hot Momma’s nighttime attire had a way of getting her her own way.
The cell phone that Granny held in her hand chimed Lullaby, Goodnight, My Angel, signifying that Angel was calling. Granny chuckled as she answered the phone. She and her new granddaughter had bonded from the moment they’d met.
“Morning, Angel; it’s a little early for you, isn’t it?”
“Granny, its 9:00 a.m., you have to come and help me! I’m in trouble! I can’t find Thor and Mom. Hurry, Granny, hurry!” Granny heard the tears through the phone connection.
“I’ll be right there as quick as a pig can jig.”
Granny threw her phone down on the bed, looked at Mrs. Bleaty who’d climbed into the bed and was already snoozing, grabbed her robe to cover her Hot Momma pj’s, and took off down the hall to get to the door.
Granny’s feet came to a screeching halt when she encountered Angel in her living room.
“Angel, what are you doing here? Didn’t you just call me and tell me you were in trouble? Didn’t you just tell me that you couldn’t find your mom and Thor?” Granny questioned. Maybe she’d imagined the phone call amidst all the feathers and the dreams.
“I did, Granny, I did.” Angel gave a loud sniff.
Granny peered closely at Angel.
“Are you sure you’re crying?”
“Oh, Granny, I looked and looked and Thor and Mom aren’t here!”
“Why would you look here? Why would they be here?” Granny asked the almost-five-year-old little Angel, standing in the middle of her living room.
“I can’t find them here because,” Angel answered Granny innocently before calmly walking to the front door. “They’re there!” Angel opened the door and held it wide open.
“Surprise! Surprise! Surprise!”
Granny jumped back and scowled at the intruders.
“Hi, mom! Happy Birthday!” Thor kissed his mother on the cheek while helping Heather, his pregnant wife and Angel’s mother, into the house.
“You look great for your age,” Granny’s daughter Penelope stated from behind Thor as she and husband Butch hauled a big package through the doorway.
“Mom, may the stars align with your day.” Granny’s other daughter Starshine hugged her mother, at the same time motioning her fiancé, Lars, into the house.
Granny felt something alive and squirming put into her arms as she looked into her neighbor Silas Crickett’s eyes. “Something lively to spice up an old, old, old woman’s life!” said Silas, as he raised his eyebrows and kept on going further into the house. Granny looked down to see what he’d put in her arms. Before Granny could see what it was, the live, wiggling creature was taken out of Granny’s arms and a pair of dangling red earrings made out of letters was placed in her hands. The words read, “You’re mine!”
Granny looked up into Franklin Jester Gatsby’s eyes just in time to see him wink as he grabbed her for a smacking good kiss. Granny tried to extricate herself from her fiancé’s arms before anyone saw her blushing. Glancing behind Franklin and seeing the next reveler walk through her door, she wiggled out of his grasp. Handing the earrings to Starshine, she quickly pushed past Franklin to confront the new party goer.
“What’s she doing here?” Granny asked, glaring at the newcomer.
Thor moved to his mother’s side, not sure if he should grab hold of her arms in case she came out swinging. “It’s her birthday too,” he said.
Starshine moved close to the woman who was almost a clone of her mother. “We didn’t want her to be alone on her birthday.”
“She’s your twin sister, Mom. It’s been a lot of years since you both celebrated your birthdays together,” Penelope reminded her mother with an apologetic look.
“Oh, for goodness sakes!” Silas
Crickett piped in, “Let the woman sit down; she’s a lot frailer than you, Granny, and she might faint at your attitude.”
Granny gave an appraising look at her twin sister Amelia before turning to Angel with a gleam in her eye. “Angel, you tricked me.”
Angel jumped up and down in glee. “I did! I did! See, I can be tricky too. Just like you, Granny.”
Before Granny had a chance to reply, the door opened again, and Mavis and George, her neighbors from across the street, along with her friend Delight, owner of the Pink Percolator, pushed a movable tray with a large cake on top of it into the house.
“It’s June and we’re going to croon; we’ll make you swoon and none too soon; on this day that’s not May; we’ll shout hooray, because it’s your birthday. June two is right for you. So don’t be blue ‘cause we’ve got a brew. Happy Birthday to you!” Delight and Mavis sang off-key as Granny’s menagerie of animals––Fish, Little White Poodle, Tank, Furball, and Baskerville––chimed in, barking and meowing. Mrs. Bleaty, coming out of the bedroom to see what the commotion was, provided the bleats. The animal noises completed the song with the perfect background chorus.
“Don’t you know it’s not nice to surprise an old woman so early in the morning,” Granny complained. “Might have given me a heart attack, especially with that terrible rhyme.”
“Hermiony,” Franklin said, taking her hand and leading her over to the couch where he sat her down. He then moved to Amelia who was standing silently in the corner of the room. “Amelia.” Taking her hand, he led her over and indicated she should sit next to her twin sister.
Granny quickly scooted into the corner of the couch, eyeing Amelia warily.
Angel sidled up next to Granny and stared at the two sisters. “Don’t you like each other, Granny? You told me I should be nice to everyone.”
Granny cleared her throat, “Um, Um. Well, so I did.”
“Are you scared of your sister, Granny? Is that why you don’t want to sit next to her?” Angel asked in a puzzled tone.
The rest of the people in the room gave Granny knowing grins, and Thor raised his eyebrows, indicating with a nod of his head that he wasn’t helping his mother get out of explaining this to Angel.
Granny turned to look at her twin sister, Amelia, who was silently listening to the conversation. In a soft voice, Granny acknowledged her sister’s presence, “Happy Birthday, Amelia. It’s been a long time.”
“Too long, Hermiony, too long. Happy Birthday to you too,” said Amelia. “I’m so happy to be sharing this time with you and your children. They’re my family too, you know.”
Granny turned away, a hurt look in her eyes but, noticing the questioning faces of the other people in the room, she quickly stood up. “Did ya think about coffee with that cake?”
Silas, seeing the hurt in Granny’s eyes, moved forward. “I don’t think they put enough candles on that cake for someone as old as you.”
Granny skewered him with a look. “You old cantankerous coot, why are you here? Counting the candles to see if you think I’m going to kick the bucket soon?”
Delight giggled at Amelia’s shocked look. “Don’t worry Amelia; those two are always going at it. He’s the male version of her; they just don’t see it yet.”
“And what was that wiggly thing you put in my hands?” Granny inquired of Silas.
Laughing, Silas answered, “I let it loose, but I’ll give you a clue. It’s silent as a mouse.”
Granny turned to Baskerville, “Baskerville, don’t you want to eat a Radish?” referring to Silas’s gray parrot.
Heather, Penelope, and Starshine handed out cake while Delight poured everyone, except Angel, a cup of freshly brewed coffee from the Pink Percolator. The shysters and Baskerville licked up the crumbs on the floor. Mrs. Bleaty busily tried to break into the presents that the visitors had brought and left by the front door for Granny.
“Amelia, how is the factory you’re building coming along?” Butch raised a piece of the Chocolate Raspberry Lemon Fudge Cake to his lips.
“George and I can’t wait to try your chocolate, Amelia. Imagine having a chocolate factory in town!” Mavis said, making a smacking sound with her lips.
Before Amelia could answer, Angel dropped a small box in Granny’s lap. “It’s a present from my Grandpa. You’ve got to open it first, Granny. Please! Please!”
“Angel, you interrupted a conversation. Aunt Amelia was about to answer a question about her factory,” Heather reminded her daughter.
“That’s quite alright.” Amelia’s soft voice could barely be heard. “There’s plenty of time to answer questions. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Unfortunately,” Granny stated under her breath.
“Did you say something, Hermiony?” Amelia asked. “I didn’t quite hear that.”
Granny, ignoring Amelia’s comment, continued to unwrap the small box. Lifting the lid, she saw the glint of something pink. Granny took the tiny object out of the box.
Franklin bent down in front of her on his knee. “Hermiony Vidalia Criony Fiddlestadt, will you consent to marry me again?” referring to the fact that the Christmas wedding they had planned had gotten interrupted and postponed. “With this ring, I commit to accepting your colorful personality, your willful ways, and your sparkling independence. Let’s start anew and say I do.”
“What? No car this time?” Granny teased with a twinkle in her eye. The last time Franklin had proposed, he’d given her a red ‘57 Chevy Corvette convertible.
A loud crash interrupted Franklin’s answer with pieces of cake landing on top of his head. Frosting spattered all over Granny’s hair, and Baskerville’s loud howl filled the air.
“Food fight! Food fight!” Angel chanted.
“Stop everyone! Stand still so you don’t get cake all over the house!” Penelope yelled.
Granny, wiping the frosting out of her hair, looked up to encounter Silas smile.
“Whoops, Baskerville must have accidently knocked into the table.” Silas gave Granny a shrewd look and said, “Happy Birthday, Hermiony!” He waved while walking out the front door.
Granny grabbed Franklin’s arm, putting a stop to his attempt to brush the chocolate cake off his clothes. “I have an announcement to make!” Granny shouted, stopping all the commotion in the room.
Everyone stopped cleaning up the mess to listen to Granny. “I, Hermiony Vidalia Criony Fiddlestadt, accept Franklin Jester Gatsby’s latest proposal!”
CHAPTER TWO
Holding on to a cup of coffee with her right hand, Granny lifted her left hand so she could get a better look at the pink diamond adorning her finger.
The ring was a good complement to the first engagement ring Franklin had given her that she still wore on the same hand and the same finger as the new one. “Yup, he staked his claim!” Granny mused to the empty room.
The party was over and Granny had some time to herself before she had to meet Mavis and Delight in the underground streets by Graves Funeral Home, per their instructions. She didn’t know what they’d planned, but she knew it would be good.
Something scurried past her feet, brushing up against her ankle as it passed, and skittered underneath the armchair across the room. Granny sat up, peered at the fluttering blanket, covering her chair and gently draping to the floor. That ornery coot Silas wouldn’t have left a mouse in her house, would he?
The one thing that no one knew about Granny was that she was scared of mice. Tucking her legs underneath her in her chair, she remained still as she watched to see what was hiding under the armchair. Of course, if anyone else had been around, she would have blustered through. It wouldn’t do any good to her reputation to let her family and friends know that the aging amateur sleuth was scared of mice. Well, she figured she’d just rest in her chair for a little while. One of the shysters or Baskerville, or Mrs. Bleaty, was sure to come back soon. They’d take care of the little creature hiding under the draped blanket of the armchair.
Keeping a
close eye on the blanket, Granny sipped her coffee. It had been quite a year. Looking again at the two rings on her finger, she thought perhaps fate was telling her that the problems she and Franklin had getting hitched, should have warned her off of accepting another ring and scheduling another wedding.
First, she’d been kidnapped, and when they could have gotten the show on the road again, she looked up straight into the face of her twin sister, Amelia. It had been such a shock that Granny had fainted dead away, thinking she’d seen a ghost. In all the excitement of her family seeing someone who looked just like her that they hadn’t known about, and getting Granny to the Emergency Room to see Dr. Dreamboat in the ER, the wedding got postponed.
Granny’s musings were interrupted when the four shysters romped into the house through their pet door. Little White Poodle stopped on a dime and gave a sniff in the air. Tank growled and pawed the carpet while sniffing at the armchair that Granny had been keeping her eye on.
Granny tucked her feet a little tighter under her as Fish and Furball gave a loud yowl and bounded to the chair in question, batting at something underneath.
Granny grabbed her cell phone that was in her pocket and shouted into it, “Crabby old man!” The phone placed a call.
“Hermiony, my Hermiony, do you want me to come and party with you?” A chuckle followed the question.
“Silas Crickett, you get over here and get whatever smarmy live creature you left here out of my house!”
“Why, Granny, you’d do anything to get me over to your house, wouldn’t you? Do I smell a rat?”
“A rat? You left a rat over here?” Granny screamed into the phone, while pulling her feet back further into the chair.
A click could be heard on the other end of the line. At the same time, Furball dove under the chair and came up with something in her mouth. Granny moved further back in her chair as Furball, with a large white, wiggling rat dangling from her mouth, joined Granny on her chair.
Granny Forks A Fugitive (Fuchsia Minnesota Book 4) Page 1