When Beef Jerky Met Cherries Jubilee
Page 20
Zachary managed to find his smile. “So basically you’re saying that we’re trapped in a never-ending rollercoaster of change, and the only thing I can do is buckle myself in and hope we don’t collide with an asteroid.”
“That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it seems to fit.” Newell rubbed his hand up and down Zachary’s bag vigorously. “Should we head back to the reception?”
“Would you mind just holding me for a minute or two longer? This just feels really good, and I need all the energy I can get right now.”
“You got it, Zach. You just let me know when you’re ready to go back.”
Zachary and Newell stood there in that spot for almost five minutes. Zachary was still trying to come to grips that the one person who didn’t deserve anything bad to happen to him was now dealing with a disease that could potentially kill him. Chad was always talking about his dreams and aspirations, even mentioning he hoped to follow in Zachary’s footsteps, whether it was working at The Literary Barn or starting up his own bookstore somewhere. Zachary was determined to make sure Chad had the chance to pursue his dreams.
“Okay, Newell. I think I’m able to handle things on my own now. Let’s head back.”
“Sounds good. Hey, I was talking to Sajen while you and Chad were talking, and he was telling me that Rose gets the farm in the will. The two of them are thinking of turning the house into a bed and breakfast. Rose likes the idea of keeping the house vibrant and alive, and this area’s been needing more lodging options.”
Zachary retrieved his keys from the counter. “Do they think they’re going to get any business, considering the house was where the previous homeowners—two of Shawano County’s finest citizens, no less—were murdered? I mean, you saw how much bad publicity the White Eagle Art Gallery got, and the only tragic death was to Jasper Walters’ painting.”
“True, but if you think about it, Sigrid’s restaurant was where a drag queen was murdered, and her business is better than ever. A change of focus, a coat of paint and poof! Instant atmosphere!”
“I’m pretty sure Sigrid doesn’t advertise that particular aspect of her business. Come for the schweinshaxe; stay for the homicide.”
“Speaking of atmosphere, I’ve got a surprise that should cheer you up.” Newell changed directions and moved toward his truck. “I was going to wait until tomorrow to show you this, but I think the reaction should be the same no matter when I reveal it.”
Zachary’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what Newell had up his sleeve. Newell climbed into the bed of the truck and removed a blue tarp, revealing a community quilt square. The square had a large, green book with the words “The Literary Barn” emblazoned on the cover in gold letters. Other random words in white surrounded a pitch black background. The book was at an angle, like the square was meant to be mounted as a diamond.
Zachary thought he’d cried all his tears, but he could feel more welling up. “Newell, I… When did you have time for this? I mean, I know you told me you wanted to put something together for me, but I don’t remember you having any kind of evening meetings or anything like that.”
Newell’s smile pulsated with glee. “Got distracted by the murder mystery so you didn’t realize there was a second game afoot, huh, Sherlock? A couple of guys from the Gresham Community Association sketched out the framework for the quilt square, and they hauled it out to the farm about a week and a half ago. I put it up in the hay loft where you don’t commonly go, and then I spent a couple of rather chilly late nights applying the paint. Fortunately, you’re a sounder sleeper than I am and didn’t realize I’d slipped away.”
Zachary stared into Newell’s eyes for a few moments before turning his gaze back to the beautiful quilt square. “You’re never going to stop surprising me, are you?”
“Never.” Newell pulled the tarp back over the quilt square. “I’ll install it for you tomorrow, but we should probably head back to the reception before people start getting suspicious.”
“Other people getting suspicions about me. That’d be an interesting twist.”
Zachary and Newell walked back into the gallery and saw a crowd hovering around the covered painting. Sajen was in front of it while Anne Marie stood near the drape.
“Osgood and Muriel Reimer might not have thought of me as a suitable beau for their granddaughter, but that doesn’t negate the fact that they gave so much to the community of Gresham and all of Shawano County. They’ve helped to expand our palates and our potential, and I painted this as a tribute to them. I know the special exhibit for them did not go so well here, but I hope I can provide everyone with a positive reminder of all the good they did for us.”
Anne Marie removed the drape to reveal a painting that showed Osgood in his overalls and plaid shirt, working to cure some beef jerky, which looked like it was forming a path to Muriel, who was surrounded by a ring of cherries as she was pulling a pie from the oven. Collective murmuring broke out in the crowd for a few moments but was quickly drowned out by the echoing applause that followed.
“That is beautiful,” Zachary said as he and Newell walked over to Sajen. “It says a lot that you created a positive image of two people who treated you like bubble gum stuck to their shoes.”
“It’s just something that speaks to the core of who I am, someone who wants to create beauty, not perpetuate ugliness.”
“Well, I think you succeeded.”
“Hey, did Newell tell you that Rose and I are going to turn the farmhouse into a bed and breakfast? It’d be a way to make a living while allowing us to spend time with the baby and pursue our artistic interests.”
“He did tell me. Congrats, and good luck to you.”
Sajen put a hand on Zachary’s shoulder. “I never got the chance to really thank you two for everything you did for me. First, you guys kept an angry mob from tearing me apart because they thought I’d killed the Reimers, and then you saved me from the man who actually committed those murders.”
Zachary shrugged. “It’s just how we are. Probably makes us freaks, but we could care less.”
Newell pointed to the painting. “So do you think Osgood and Muriel are looking down from heaven right now and seeing this and thinking, ‘You know what? We might have been wrong about that boy?’”
Sajen shook his head. “Nothing I did in life was good enough in their eyes. I doubt death would help them to see the light.”
Anne Marie joined the conversation. “Can you believe this? Everybody is just raving about the painting. I just crossed paths with the Menominee tribal chairman, and he was asking if it would be possible to commission a painting for the tribal headquarters.”
Sajen’s eyes widened. “That would be amazing! I never imagined that… Wow!”
Anne Marie chuckled. “Come on. I’ll introduce you, and the two of you can hash out a deal.”
Zachary looked at Newell. “Wow. A few weeks ago, he was a starving artist and suspected murderer. Now, he’s a modern-day Da Vinci.”
“Just goes to show how much life really does change, even if we don’t always see it.” Newell handed a glass of champagne to Zachary.
“I’ll drink to that.” Zachary clinked his glass with Newell’s and took a sip as he looked back at the newly unveiled painting. His eyes kept shifting between the beef and the cherries. All things considered, Osgood and Muriel Reimer had an amazing life together, and Zachary wondered how many of the people in attendance could say the same thing in forty or fifty years. A love affair that endured for several generations was a rare commodity today, so it seemed only fitting that it should be immortalized on canvas.
Zachary looked around at the crowd, noticing all of the people who loved the couple nicknamed Beef Jerky and Cherries Jubilee. Despite their no longer being here, Osgood and Muriel Reimer were going to be remembered by the community for a good, long time, which is all anyone could hope for.
“Hey, cutie.” Newell nuzzled Zachary. “What are you thinking about?”
Zachary turned his gaze back to the painting. “Life.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lee Pulaski grew up in the dry heat of Arizona in a small town called Chino Valley. Lee has always enjoyed writing, although it took some time for him to develop the courage to get his work into the public eye.
Lee has written since childhood, including a stage play that was produced in high school. In 2008, Lee published his first novel, The Colors of Love and Autumn. He has written in a number of genres—romance, fantasy and mysteries.
Lee enjoys photography when he is not writing—and sometimes even while he is. He tries to get outdoors whenever he can to take photos.
Having learned how to read at age 3½, Lee also loves to read as often as possible, enjoying mysteries mostly, although he'll read any good story.
Lee lives in Wisconsin with his partner, Todd, and his dog, Toby.
Other Books by the Author
The Colors of Love and Autumn
A Cure for Hunger
The Second Season
Songs of Seduction
A Cure for Hunger II: Howl of the Wendigo
A Cure for Hunger III: Darkling in Abeyance
An Eagle River Christmas
As American as Apple Pie
Death by Order of the Queen
Murder at the Teddy Bears Picnic
Bittersweet in the Shadows
Grandma’s House of Waffles