Summer at Fraser’s Mill

Out of the House

G race learned quickly that a burned hand was an ordeal. She’d never realized how many times she washed her hands every day until now. Handwashing was a chore when you were trying to keep a bandage dry.

Mom suggested she take a couple days off working in the store until the burn had had some time to heal, but Grace was firm. She had come all the way out here to work in the store. She wouldn’t let a little thing like a blistered hand stop her. So, that evening, she printed up the labels for the gingersnaps and apple crisp according to the Cottage Food Law regulations. Mom bagged the baked goods, and Grace carried them down to the store and arranged them on a little display near the front. Tomorrow’s customers had better appreciate them after all the work and pain that had gone into the cooking.

On Tuesday morning, as Grace was working (with a large plastic glove over the bandaged hand, so she could keep it clean), Alex came in to deliver some produce. She stopped at the front and leaned her elbows on the counter.

“Hey, Grace,” she said. “What’s your schedule like tomorrow night?”

Grace raised an eyebrow. “You’re trying to talk me into something.”

“This doesn’t take a lot of time. And you’re good at it. You’ll like it,” Alex said.

“I can’t think of anything that falls under all those categories.”

Alex waved that away. “You’ll love it. Listen. Two of the altos in the Latin Mass choir are out of town this week and I’m the only one left. You sing alto. You oughtta come to choir practice tomorrow night at seven-thirty and sing with us on Sunday.”

“Um, Alex, I haven’t sung in the choir in years. Besides, it would take a long time to learn all that music. I don’t have a lot of time right now.”

“You’ll be there on Sunday anyway,” Alex said. “And practice tomorrow is just an hour.”

“I’d crash and burn. You guys sing so much stuff where the parts are all staggered. When I was in the choir we sang for the English Mass and just did hymns and a few chants.”

“It’s not that bad,” Alex said. “The motets aren’t too hard, and I’ll be singing with you. You don’t have to sing loud if you don’t want. It’ll be fun!”

Well, if she didn’t have to sing loud, her mistakes wouldn’t be too obvious. And it would be fun to hang out with Alex.

“You’re incorrigible.” Grace shook her head at Alex. “All right, I’ll do it.”

“Yay!”

“But I’m not signing up to sing for the whole summer. I’ll see how it goes this week.”

Alex headed for the door. “I fully intend to get you roped in for the whole summer,” she called back.

§

Just before seven-thirty on Wednesday evening, Grace made her way up the street toward St. Anthony’s Church. The church stood near the north end of town, across from the library and town hall. Looming in the distance behind the church was Fraser’s Water-Powered Sawmill, the mill that had given the town its name.

St. Anthony’s Church had been built in the 1950s. It had managed to escape most of the “wreckovation” renovation efforts of the decades following. The stained glass windows, with pictures of the Sacraments, looked like the illustrations in the Baltimore Catechism, but Grace had always liked the 50s and the Baltimore Catechism, so she didn’t mind.

Alex was waiting in the church vestibule. “Good, you’re here,” Alex said. “You can meet our new choir director.”

Grace followed her up the stairs and into the loft. A brown-haired woman in her forties was sitting at the organ bench. “Oh, hello,” she said.

“We’ve got another alto, for this week at least,” Alex said. “Mary Jane, this is Grace.”

“Wonderful.” Mary Jane smiled and slid off the organ bench. “Let me get you some music. Alex, would you please find Grace a hymnal and a chant book?”

As Mary Jane and Alex got Grace’s music together, other choir members began to filter in. Dorothy and Elaine arrived, followed by Hannah Fraser, then two young ladies Grace recognized from a family that owned a cherry orchard near Alex’s farm. Those women must all be sopranos, since Alex had said she would be the only alto unless Grace came. As for the men, there was Alex’s brother Sam, Charlie Keller—Elaine’s grandson who managed the diner down the street—and Doc Johnson. Of course Doc would be there. Just Grace’s luck, now she would probably sing terribly.

Mary Jane called the practice to order, and the choir sang warm-ups. Mary Jane kept stopping them to talk about good singing technique and to remind everyone to listen to one another. “The most important thing about singing as a choir is singing together,” she said. “You can’t sing together if you don’t listen to the people around you.”

They practiced motets, in which each voice part had its own different timing, and here Grace had her opportunity to crash and burn. She didn’t know the motets, and the sopranos (especially Hannah) were loud. It was hard to listen to Alex’s medium-volume alto, read the music to follow along, and watch the conductor.

Mary Jane stopped the choir in the middle of the first motet. “Just a moment,” she said. “We seem to be coming apart. Altos, how are you doing?”

“The counting is a little confusing,” Alex said. “I think I’m holding something too long, but I don’t know what.”

“I got lost about one line in,” Grace said.

“All right. Altos, let’s run your counting in the first two systems—you’ve got a lot of eighth notes. Everybody else, you may sit down for a minute.”

Everyone else sat down, and Mary Jane went to the organ. Hannah whispered something to Doc, who was sitting next to her. Doc’s handsome face took on an amused grin.

If they were laughing at the altos, they wouldn’t laugh long. Grace set her chin high. She listened intently to Mary Jane playing through the alto part.

“Now you try it with me,” Mary Jane said, and Grace and Alex sang along with the organ.

The next full run of the piece went better than the first time. Mary Jane beamed. “Let’s talk about dynamics now,” she said, and handed out pencils.

Choir practice wasn’t so bad, once you got the counting down. If Grace could remember how to sight-read sheet music, it would help.

After the second motet, which was easier than the first one, and two hymns, Mary Jane said it was time for the choir to split into two groups. The men would practice some chants with her, while the women would take a short break before practicing their chants.

As Mary Jane played the starting notes for the men, Doc slapped his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Sorry, Mary Jane,” he said, “I have to go. I’ll practice the propers at home.”

“Not again.” Hannah groaned. “You always get called away.”

Doc headed toward the stairs. “See you, everybody,” he said. “Nice to have you join us, Grace.”

That was odd, Doc singling Grace out to say goodbye. He was probably relieved she hadn’t fallen down any stairs or broken any jars or burned herself today.

While the men practiced their chants, Grace realized she was thirsty. She’d better go down to the drinking fountain in the church vestibule.

As Grace came back from getting her drink, she ran into Hannah coming down the stairs. Hannah held a sleek pink water bottle.

“Hi,” Grace said.

“Hi.” Hannah stopped on the stairs. “I didn’t know you knew Doc.”

“He lives next door to my parents,” Grace said. “And I had to go to his office a couple days ago when I burnt my hand making apple crisp.” She held out the bandaged hand.

“Wow, that’s a big bandage,” Hannah said. “Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore, unless I press on it.”

“So are you thinking of joining the choir?” Hannah asked.

“Maybe. I’m not sure yet. I thought I’d try it for a week.”

Hannah took a sip from her water bottle. “I get that. I wasn’t sure about joining myself, but Doc talked me into it. He said they needed sopranos. It’s too bad he got called away in the middle of practice. That happens to him all the time.”

“I guess rural doctors must always be on call,” Grace said.

“Seriously. He and I were playing tennis the other evening when he got called away. It’s always a bummer.” Hannah smiled. “But we’re going to play again tomorrow night to make up for it.”

Hannah brushed past down the stairs, and Grace went up to the loft. It was pretty clear how Hannah felt about Doc. But why did she come down here just to tell Grace about how close she and Doc were? Was she warning Grace off? Grace laughed to herself. Hannah needn’t worry. Nothing was further from Grace’s mind than going after Doc.

§

“Well, how did you like practice?” Alex asked afterwards, as they walked down Main Street together.

“It wasn’t easy,” Grace said. “But I think it was good. I had some problems reading the square notation for the chants, but Mary Jane said she’d email me some recordings.”

“The practice recordings she sends are really helpful.” Alex tossed her choir water bottle and caught it again. “I’m not great at reading sheet music, but when I listen to my part and practice it along with the other parts, it really helps.”

They were almost at the grocery store, and Grace had an idea. “Hey, want to come down to the diner and get a milkshake or something?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Alex said. “I’ve got a bunch of chores I have to do at home.”

“We won’t be long. And we haven’t gotten much of a chance to catch up since I got back.”

“Well, I guess it would keep you from being cooped up in the house,” Alex said. “Sure, I’ll go. But I can’t stay long.”

“We can get milkshakes to go, and I’ll walk down to the farm with you.”

It was a warm evening, and the sun hadn’t set yet. Chuck’s Diner was down by the gas station at the south end of town. It had been there since before either of the girls was born. Chuck Keller, Elaine’s husband, started it. Their grandson Charlie ran it now.

The diner served standard American diner food, plus a few German and Italian house specialties, and its milkshakes were famous. It was the only restaurant in town, if you didn’t count the tavern or the ice cream stand.

Grace and Alex went through swinging glass doors and into the diner. It was a long, narrow building, with booths on one side and a serving counter lined with bar stools on the other. Charlie looked up from wiping down the counter. He brightened when he saw them.

“Alex!” He whisked his counter-wiping cloth out of sight. “And Grace! Long time no see.”

Alex laughed. “How did you get here so fast? Did you run all the way from the church?”

“No, I changed into my Superman suit and flew here,” Charlie said with a wink. “What can I get you? We’ve got gluten-free peanut butter cookies.”

That was meant for Alex—she couldn’t eat gluten. Grace slid onto a bar stool beside Alex and peered at the menu on the wall behind Charlie’s head. Although it had been a while since she’d been there, the menu hadn’t changed much.

“I’d like a chocolate milkshake, please,” Alex told Charlie.

“Right away. And you?” Charlie looked at Grace.

“A peanut butter milkshake, please.”

Charlie whisked around making the shakes.

“Hey, Alex,” he called. “How’s that prize pumpkin coming?”

Alex laughed. “You know I just planted the pumpkins yesterday. Don’t you know how long it takes a pumpkin plant to sprout?”

“I have no idea,” Charlie called. He applied whipped cream to the milkshakes with a liberal hand. “I bet you’ll get the blue ribbon at the contest.”

“Thanks. I don’t know if I will, but I’m sure gonna try,” Alex said.

Charlie put the two shakes on the counter and pulled out two napkins with a flourish. “Here you are—on the house.”

“On the house?” Grace stared.

Charlie smiled. “You get one because you just came back to town. Alex gets one for being Alex.”

Alex blushed under her tan. “Thanks, Charlie.”

“You’re sure?” Grace asked.

“Sure I’m sure.” Charlie pushed Grace’s shake towards her.

“Well, thank you,” Grace said.

Although Alex had said she needed to get back to the farm, she seemed in no hurry to leave. Charlie leaned on the counter, chatting with the girls and teasing Alex. He and Alex seemed to know each other pretty well. Maybe something was going on there.

Once a group of customers came in and Charlie went to take their orders, Alex slid down from her bar stool, her gaze lingering on Charlie. “I guess we oughtta get going.”

She and Grace started up the street together.

“You probably shouldn’t walk all the way with me,” Alex said. “You’d have to walk back by yourself in the dark. I’m sorry—I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”

“Well, I don’t want you to walk all that way by yourself in the dark either,” Grace said. “I’ve got an idea. I’ll borrow my mom’s car and drop you off at the farm.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” Alex said. “I walk this way all the time. I’m not gonna get mugged in Fraser’s Mill. And I’ve got a flashlight.”

“No way. It’s a two-minute drive. I’m taking you.”

“Okay, fine.” Alex smiled. “Thanks.”

They walked up the road, waving to townspeople they passed along the way.

“I’ve got a nosy question,” Grace said, “so you don’t have to answer it unless you want to. Is there something going on between you and Charlie?”

Alex raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the two of you seem to know each other pretty well.”

Alex sipped her milkshake. “We’ve known each other a long time,” she said. “We both grew up in Fraser’s Mill, and we both sing in the choir. We do get along pretty well. I mean, Charlie’s a nice guy. But we’re just friends.”

“Really?”

The corner of Alex’s mouth quirked. “Yeah. Why? Did it look like something else?”

“If you’re just friends, what was with the free milkshake?”

“What do you mean? He gave you one too.”

Grace shook her head. “I’ve gone to the diner all my life before I moved, and Charlie’s never given me anything for free before. I bet he just did that because he wanted to give you a free shake. He obviously likes you.”

“No way.” Alex shook her head. “He’s just a friendly guy. There’s nothing else going on.”

“Nothing? That’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it.” Alex sipped her milkshake.

Grace shook her head. “I don’t believe you. You’re smiling.”

“I’m not. You’re just trying to matchmake. I oughtta pay you back by picking somebody for you.” Alex’s eyes gleamed with mischief.

“In Fraser’s Mill? Ha! You just try.”

Who was there in Fraser’s Mill, anyway? No one compatible with her, she was sure. The only eligible guy that came to mind—if he was single, which Grace didn’t know—was Doc. Perish the thought! Of all the guys who would be completely wrong for Grace, Doc headed the list.

It was silly to even think about guys in Fraser’s Mill. Finding a compatible guy in L.A. was difficult enough. And the situation with Lucas was still confusing since Grace had left him hanging after that one date. Grace didn’t have time for Alex’s mischievous setups right now. She had goals for this summer, and she needed to focus on them.