Pink Flamingoed (25 page)

There were no questions, so Cora stuck her hand into
the sack and pulled out a name. “Nancy Armbruster,” Cora called out. “Okay, Nancy, come forward with your basket and let’s see who bids on lunch with you.”

Kenny looked at his dad, pleadingly, hoping his dad
would let him bid for his mother’s lunch, instead of his sisters’ basket. Scott
ignored his son, choosing instead to look at his wife standing beside her
picnic basket and looking like he had seen her look three times previously,
pregnant, and looking more pregnant each week.

“Fifteen dollars,” Scott said. He wanted to bid
higher, but realized that he had more mouths to feed and less money than the
rest of the street’s residents.

Most of the men had already decided with whom they
wanted to share their lunch, so no one bid against Scott. Bidding was more a
sense of duty, since most of the women were already taken. Nancy led her
husband to a picnic table under a tree away from the rest of the group. Scott
carried the basket and held it until his wife spread a tablecloth over the
table.

“You know, Hon, it’s been a while since we’ve gotten
to eat by ourselves,” Scott said.

“It sure has, and I’ve missed our times together. I
guess the last time we were alone to eat was that Valentine dinner at
Martinelli’s, and my guess is that it’ll be a while before we get to be alone
again.”

“Probably so, but at least you’re nearby. When was the
last time I told you how beautiful you look when you’re pregnant?”

“I don’t know, dear. How old is Mallory?”

+++

Cora reached into the sack and pulled out another
name.

“Ethel Conklin.”

“Two dollars,” Harry said, doing his best to avoid
Cora’s dirty look.

“Old tightwad has bid two dollars. Do I hear more?”
Cora pleaded.

“Ten dollars,” Frank offered.

While many women might have been offended if their
husbands had bid on another woman’s picnic basket, Cora simply looked at Frank
and smiled. If Harry had worn false teeth, he probably would have swallowed
them. As it was, he merely had to swallow his pride. After one more bid, the
bidding ended, and Harry bought his wife’s picnic basket for eleven dollars.
Harry grumbled about paying for the same food twice, and then smiled as his
wife drew near with her basket. At least it cost less than Martinelli’s, and
less than getting stuck with the flamingo.

Cora stuck her hand into the sack and drew out another
name.

“Jill and Mallory Armbruster.”

Jill and Mallory got up and brought their basket to
the front.

“Two dollars,” Kenny said, not showing a lot of
enthusiasm. Kenny was not sure what his dad would have done to him if someone
had outbid him. He had mixed emotions as to whether or not he wished to have
the winning bid. No one chose to bid against Kenny, so he trudged off with his
sisters to “enjoy” lunch together. Kenny took out his frustration on his
sisters by spitting his watermelon seeds in their direction.

Cora continued to draw names out of the sack. As
expected, Frank bought Cora’s picnic basket, Brad made the winning bid for
Amy’s picnic lunch, Chuck placed the high bid for Allison’s delicacies, and Jim
bought what Kathy had fixed.

While Frank waited for Cora to finish her job as
auctioneer and join him for lunch, he heard a car door shut and went to
investigate. He found a young man standing in front of the vacant house. Frank
went to see if he could help him. The two of them talked for a few minutes.
Frank returned with the man in tow, just as the bidding began for Bertha
Callahan’s picnic basket. Everyone turned to look at the stranger who wore a
Stetson hat and cowboy boots.  No one knew who he was, but they knew he was not
someone from Hopemont.

The bidding continued until only two picnic lunches
were left, Melanie Daniels’s and Lady Catherine McPherson’s. By this time,
everyone had realized that Doc was the only man on Aylesford Place who had not
yet bid on a lunch. Would Doc opt for Melanie’s or Lady Catherine’s basket? Doc
decided that he would bid on the first name drawn.

Cora reached in and pulled out the next-to-last name.
“Melanie Daniels.”

Melanie knew that she did not have a love interest at
the picnic and tentatively made her way to the front with her basket.

“Ten dollars,” Doc said, making Melanie feel a little
better because someone had bid on her lunch.

“One hundred dollars,” the stranger called out.

Everyone gasped as they turned and looked at the tall,
dark-headed, young man with the well-groomed mustache.

Who is the man, anyway?
everyone wondered.

Cora looked at Pastor Scott, who had heard the
stranger’s bid.  It  appeared  that  each  of  them  was  thinking the same
thing. With the money that had already been bid plus the stranger’s bid, they
knew they had enough money to purchase a new freezer.

Lady Catherine was left and Doc was the only man left
to bid, so Doc decided to pass and let the stranger enjoy a picnic lunch with
Melanie. Doc was not sure if any lunch was worth one hundred dollars.

Cora looked over at Frank and smiled. She had realized
that there was one more woman than there were men, and then the problem had
been solved, thanks to the stranger wearing the Stetson. As Cora looked at the
stranger, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was the man for whom Melanie had
been waiting.

The stranger helped Melanie spread out a large quilt
on the ground and then took her hand as she sat. Once she was comfortable, he
took a seat next to her. As Melanie began to take out the food, she struck up a
conversation with the man whom she did not know.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before. Are
you new to town?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the stranger, in his southern
drawl.

“So what brings you to Hopemont?”

“Well, ma’am, I came looking for a house. I saw a
picture of this house and a description on the Internet and I decided to check
it out. That’s when I ran into Mr. Henderson, and he invited me to come and
join y’all.”

“Well, that was nice of Mr. Henderson, only around
here we call him Frank. Everyone on Aylesford Place calls everyone else by
their first names. As you can probably tell, we’re neighbors who are just like
family. By the way, my name’s Melanie. I’m the real estate agent of the house
you were looking at, as well as the next-door neighbor. You say you saw it
listed on the Internet. You aren’t by any chance, ‘handsome,’ are you?”

The stranger laughed.

“Well, ma’am, I guess you’d be a better judge of that
than I would, but if you don’t mind me saying so, you’re definitely a pretty
little filly, a very pretty lady.”

Melanie laughed.

“Maybe I should explain myself. Some man has been
e-mailing me and his e-mail name is ‘handsome.’ He told me he might be
interested in the house.”

“Oh, I see, ma’am,” said the stranger, laughing.
“Well, then I’m not ‘handsome.’ Does that mean the house is taken?”

“Oh, no. I haven’t promised it to anyone. I’d be glad
to show it to you after while, Mr., er, uh. I’m sorry. I don’t even know your
name.”

“It’s Stetson, just like the hat, but since folks in
these parts call each other by their first names, you can call me Brett.”

“I’m very glad to meet you, Brett.”

“And I’m very glad to make your acquaintance, Miss
Melanie.”

+++

Even though it was merely a formality, Cora stuck her
hand in the sack and pulled out the last name.

“Lady Catherine McPherson.”

Lady Catherine, no longer nervous about eating her
lunch alone, walked to the front.

Cora asked for an opening bid.

“Ten dollars,” Doc called out.

“Twelve dollars,” someone else shouted.

Everyone looked at each other quizzically, wondering
who else could have bid. Not seeing anyone else, and wondering if maybe he was
hearing things, Doc said, “Fifteen dollars.”

A pale young man with straight, long, dark hair
stepped from behind the trees and said, “I bid twenty dollars for my
grandmother’s lunch.”

A hush fell over the crowd. Evidently not only was Norman alive, but he was awake. Cora dropped her sack, as she expressed the shock everyone
else was feeling. Lady Catherine did her best to hide her tears.

After Norman came and escorted his grandmother to a table
all their own and everyone became calm again, Frank called out.

“Hey, Doc! Come on over here and join us! Cora made
enough food for an army.”

As it turned out, only one of Aylesford Place’s
residents failed to show up at the picnic. That one sat in her dark house
trying to block out the joy and laughter that escaped from the park.  Mrs.
Peabody sat, thinking of her weekly visitor and what a blessing that visitor
had been to her over the last several months. The grocery boy always left her
order on the porch, so the weekly visitor was the only person Mrs. Peabody ever
saw.

After each couple (plus one trio) had had an ample
amount of time to enjoy their picnic lunches, one by one people began to go up
and greet Norman and the stranger who wore the Stetson.

“You must be Norman. I’m Brad. I live across the
street.”

“You’re the author, aren’t you?”

“I sure am. Are you a reader, Norman?”

“Sometimes, but I’m afraid your stuff might be a
little on the wimpy side for me. I’m more into Stephen King myself.”

Brad smiled,
and David Lynch movies,
he
thought, looking at the young man clad entirely in black.

Melanie enjoyed the shoe being on the other foot as
everyone ran up to greet Brett and inquire as to where he was from and why he
was in Hopemont. Brett smiled and talked easily with each person, and then,
after some time, he took Melanie’s arm and off they went to look at the vacant
house. Melanie guided Brett through all three floors of the house and answered
each of his questions with enthusiasm. After she had shown him all there was to
see, they headed back downstairs.

“Well, draw up the contract, pretty lady. I think I’m
interested and I wouldn’t want Mr. Handsome to beat me to the draw.”

+++

Amy apologized to Brad ahead of time. He said he
understood why she needed to take so many pictures on such an important
occasion. Because of his work, Brad could better understand why Amy had to take
advantage of her opportunities.

+++

Chuck waited until Amy and Allison became busy with
something else, then headed to Brad to seek his opinion.

“Brad, I’d like your advice about something.”

“You want my advice. What are you planning to do?
Write a book?”

“No, nothing like that. I’m getting pretty serious
about Allison, and I think she likes me, too. I’m not ready to propose, or
anything like that, but I was thinking about taking her to meet my family. Do
you think that’s a good idea, or would she read more into it than what I mean?”

“I don’t know. I can understand your dilemma. I love
Amy, too, but I promised my parents a long time ago that I would not ask any
woman to marry me until I’d dated her for a year. If she’s really the one and
really loves me, she’ll be willing to wait. I’ve never mentioned this to Amy,
because she’d expect a ring after a year, so I imagine there are times when she
wonders about me. But back to you, Chuck, my advice is that you ask Scott, see
what he has to say about it.”

+++

The next morning, Amy printed the pictures she took at
the picnic. Many of the pictures brought a smile to her face. She was delighted
that she captured Brad with whipped cream on his nose. And her fast fingers
rewarded her with expressions on Cora’s and Harry’s faces as Cora triumphantly
sent Harry’s croquet ball halfway across the park. Not only did Amy’s series of
shots record Jim’s ringer as some of the men pitched horseshoes, but she knew
that the sight of Barney’s pencil-thin legs and red socks next to the stake,
and his scrambling away from a errant toss, would bring a smile to many a
neighbor’s face. Amy continued to open envelopes and take out pictures. She
laughed when she saw Chuck walking ahead of Allison, as each of them held one
end of a rope and Allison cracked her imaginary whip as he pulled her chair.
With her zoom lens, Amy was able to zero in on Kenny, just as a watermelon seed
emerged from his mouth and headed toward his sisters as they tried to duck out
of the way of the oncoming projectile. Amy grew pensive as she looked at
pictures of Melanie and Brett and hoped he was the one for her. The
photographer began to cry as she flipped to a close-up of Lady Catherine and
Norman and noticed a tear trickling down Lady Catherine’s cheek. As Brad’s
beloved finished looking at the last picture, she paused and thanked God for
giving her a talent that could be enjoyed by many over and over again.