celebrity,” Hal cried out. “Come up here, Maggie Dove.”
Hal Carter used to be considered the most romantic man in town. Not that he looked the part. He was a plumber and looked like a plumber with his overalls, ruddy face and competent hands. For almost all his adult life he’d lived with his mother, and oh what a difficult woman she’d been. She used to slam the door on Girl Scouts just on principle. Didn’t approve of begging. She disapproved of any woman Hal ever went out with. Plus, her nose was always running. She liked to shove Kleenex up her nostrils so when you spoke to her it looked like she had tusks. But no matter how difficult the old lady was, Hal never complained. Ever.
People were always trying to set him up on a date because, except for the handicap of his mother, he was a good catch. But no. He didn’t have time. His mother needed him. Maggie herself had gone out with him on the one and only date she’d had after her husband died, but it had been like going out with her brother.
Then, one day, the old lady died. She passed away in her sleep and not one month later Hal began dating Gretchen Anderson, who was easily the loveliest young woman in town. She worked as a docent at the Sunnyside historical site and dressed up in nineteenth-century clothes. You’d see them strolling around town, him all red and voluble and her placid in her gown. They were so tender with each other. There was such pleasure in seeing someone get what he deserved. He’d suffered and suffered for years, and then, in reward, he won a beautiful prize.
The wedding was the biggest occasion there’d ever been in the village. Winifred cried through the whole thing. The bride wore a nineteenth-century wedding dress, all ivory and beads. There were even beads in her hair. The bride’s mother, who was also lovely, played the piano as Hal and Gretchen danced a minuet.
In the years since his wedding, Hal had become ambitious. People said it was because he wanted a family. It wasn’t cheap living in this village anymore, especially for a plumber, however good he might be, and there was a suggestion that Hal was not so good a plumber as his father had been. Maggie noticed that since he suffered less, people had become more critical.
So, to drum up business, Hal had started up a contest to find “the oldest furnace in town.” Winner would get a free furnace, but all the runners-up would get “consultations.” Maggie knew for herself that Hal was persistent as a tick. If you were a runner-up, you were doomed to get a lot of consultations, until Hal finally harangued you into installing a brand-new furnace. She’d expected the contest to fall flat, but surprisingly, a lot of people signed up. Especially the new folk, who were sharp lawyers in the city, and then bemused by the ways of the village when they moved here. She suspected they knew they were falling for a line, and they wanted to; that’s why they’d chosen to live in this beautiful town.
“It’s our own celebrity,” he repeated. “Come up here, Maggie Dove.”
“I already have a new furnace, Hal,” she said. “You put it in last year.”
He guffawed at that, the crowd did too. She thought that would be the end of it, but he pressed on.
“Tell us about your new mystery.”
“It’s about a plumber who gets murdered,” she said, which just about pushed Hal over the edge. He was a florid man with a loud galloping laugh, the kind of laugh you heard from blocks away. He’d put in a new furnace at Bender’s house too, she remembered. She’d heard the sound of his laughter coming from inside the house.
“This lady wrote the best book I ever read,” he said. He held out his hand, inviting her to stand up front with him, but she shook her head no. She felt self-conscious talking about her books in the best of circumstances and she didn’t want to be forced into endorsing his services, particularly when, now that she thought about it, her new furnace
Hal Carter used to be considered the most romantic man in town. Not that he looked the part. He was a plumber and looked like a plumber with his overalls, ruddy face and competent hands. For almost all his adult life he’d lived with his mother, and oh what a difficult woman she’d been. She used to slam the door on Girl Scouts just on principle. Didn’t approve of begging. She disapproved of any woman Hal ever went out with. Plus, her nose was always running. She liked to shove Kleenex up her nostrils so when you spoke to her it looked like she had tusks. But no matter how difficult the old lady was, Hal never complained. Ever.
People were always trying to set him up on a date because, except for the handicap of his mother, he was a good catch. But no. He didn’t have time. His mother needed him. Maggie herself had gone out with him on the one and only date she’d had after her husband died, but it had been like going out with her brother.
Then, one day, the old lady died. She passed away in her sleep and not one month later Hal began dating Gretchen Anderson, who was easily the loveliest young woman in town. She worked as a docent at the Sunnyside historical site and dressed up in nineteenth-century clothes. You’d see them strolling around town, him all red and voluble and her placid in her gown. They were so tender with each other. There was such pleasure in seeing someone get what he deserved. He’d suffered and suffered for years, and then, in reward, he won a beautiful prize.
The wedding was the biggest occasion there’d ever been in the village. Winifred cried through the whole thing. The bride wore a nineteenth-century wedding dress, all ivory and beads. There were even beads in her hair. The bride’s mother, who was also lovely, played the piano as Hal and Gretchen danced a minuet.
In the years since his wedding, Hal had become ambitious. People said it was because he wanted a family. It wasn’t cheap living in this village anymore, especially for a plumber, however good he might be, and there was a suggestion that Hal was not so good a plumber as his father had been. Maggie noticed that since he suffered less, people had become more critical.
So, to drum up business, Hal had started up a contest to find “the oldest furnace in town.” Winner would get a free furnace, but all the runners-up would get “consultations.” Maggie knew for herself that Hal was persistent as a tick. If you were a runner-up, you were doomed to get a lot of consultations, until Hal finally harangued you into installing a brand-new furnace. She’d expected the contest to fall flat, but surprisingly, a lot of people signed up. Especially the new folk, who were sharp lawyers in the city, and then bemused by the ways of the village when they moved here. She suspected they knew they were falling for a line, and they wanted to; that’s why they’d chosen to live in this beautiful town.
“It’s our own celebrity,” he repeated. “Come up here, Maggie Dove.”
“I already have a new furnace, Hal,” she said. “You put it in last year.”
He guffawed at that, the crowd did too. She thought that would be the end of it, but he pressed on.
“Tell us about your new mystery.”
“It’s about a plumber who gets murdered,” she said, which just about pushed Hal over the edge. He was a florid man with a loud galloping laugh, the kind of laugh you heard from blocks away. He’d put in a new furnace at Bender’s house too, she remembered. She’d heard the sound of his laughter coming from inside the house.
“This lady wrote the best book I ever read,” he said. He held out his hand, inviting her to stand up front with him, but she shook her head no. She felt self-conscious talking about her books in the best of circumstances and she didn’t want to be forced into endorsing his services, particularly when, now that she thought about it, her new furnace
Similar Books
