Chapter 9
After lunch, Clara and Allison went back to the library.
“You know, Clara, you are sitting on all these boxes,” Allison pointed out. “You might have the answer to the mystery in the back room.”
“Do you know how many boxes are back there?” Clara retorted. “I’ve been trying to get through them, but it’s a huge task. I don’t have time to do that and my normal job.”
“I”ll help you look,” Allison suggested, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “I have some time.”
“Why don’t you dig through the boxes,” Clara suggested. “I’m going to look into the historical records, old newspapers, or even family archives that could hold the key. I’ve been pulling everything for James. I should have been looking through it myself.”
They split up, with Clara pulling some of the same books she had shown James. Finally, she found something in the newspaper archives. She carried the binder into the back where Allison sat on the floor surrounded by dusty books.
“I found something!”
“What?” Allison asked.
“I found Samuel’s name in one of the newspapers. It doesn’t say much, but he was going to be taking over the lumber business.”
“So, he was definitely from Victoria’s family,” Allison said.
“Yes. Unfortunately, I don’t see anything else about him. It’s like he dropped off the face of the earth.”
“What about Eleanor?”
Clara sighed and shook her head. “Nothing, but that doesn’t surprise me. If she was from a poor family, there would be no reason for the newspapers to write about her. I really wish I could have gotten all these papers digitized. I need the control find option. I could seriously spend years trying to read every article in the papers.”
“Well, we’ll have to make time,” Allison declared. “I have to know.”
“Look at these pictures.” Clara opened the binder and showed her pictures of the grand opening of the courthouse in town.
“Look at those outfits!” Allison laughed. “I can’t believe that building looks the same as it did back then.”
“And look at the name of the man in the photo.”
“Wentworth,” Allison gasped. “Is it Samuel?”
“It says S. Wentworth, but this man looks to be in his forties or fifties. I’m thinking maybe it’s Samuel’s father?”
“Do we know Victoria’s family tree?”
Clara grimaced. “I don’t know. She didn’t seem all that big on talking about her family. I can’t say I knew her all that well. I wish I would have taken the time to get to know her. I bet she had a lot of stories to tell.”
“She was very reclusive,” Allison commented. “I only met her a handful of times when she was still active in the Friends of the Library group. But she was always very quiet.”
“And she never married or had children,” Clara said with a hint of sadness.
“We”ll have to pick this up later,” Allison said, closing one of the dusty books she’d been perusing. “We can come back to it when we have more time. Right now, we”ve got festival business to attend to.”
Clara sighed, torn between her fascination with the mystery and her responsibilities for the festival. She loved being on the planning committee for the town’s events. It was a Godsend after the divorce. She poured her free time into the committee. She signed up for every job.
Clara locked up the library and the two of them walked across the street to city hall. The festival planning committee gathered in a small conference room twice a month. They took their seats at the table and waited. The typical gossiping went on around her while she got lost in her thoughts. She was hoping to get done with the planning meeting and go back to the library to start digging through more boxes.
“Ladies, thank you for coming,” the committee president said, clapping her hands together to get everyone’s attention.
“We’ve got three weeks until the spring festival,” she said excitedly. “Clara, can you give us an update on the food vendors?”
“Of course,” Clara began, pulling herself back from the enigma of Samuel and Eleanor. She riffled through her notes, her composure steady despite her split attention. “We have confirmation from six local eateries, including Victoria’s Bakery, and two out-of-town vendors. I’m still awaiting responses from three more.”
“And what about the potluck sign-ups? Do we need to ask for anything?”
“I”ve got it under control,” Clara assured the president, a confident smile on her face as she flipped to the next page in her notes. “The signup sheet is nearly filled. We are just missing some desserts. I”ve been doing a follow-up with everyone who has signed up to make sure they are still committed.”
“That”s fantastic!” The committee president beamed at Clara before addressing the rest of the group again. “And we”ve got the band confirmed for the dance, right?”
“Yes,” Allison chimed in. “The Bluegrass Bells are all set to perform.”
The other committee members provided updates on their tasks. Once again, Clara”s thoughts turned to James. She hated the idea of showing up to the dance alone...again. She knew everyone in town gossiped about her after the divorce. Some people pitied her, and others assumed she had done something to warrant getting dumped. Gossip was an ugly beast.
The prospect of being single again dampened her spirits. Clara chided herself for being selfish. She hoped she could show up to the dance with James on her arm. That would really get the gossip mill going. She didn”t want to be the poor divorcee with no prospects. But that wasn”t going to happen. Once again, she would be the lonely girl at the dance.
“Clara?” The committee president”s voice broke Clara from her thoughts. “Have you given any thought on where we could get more decorations for the gazebo?”
“Oh, yes,” Clara said, shaking off her thoughts and turning her attention back to the meeting. “I was thinking we could borrow some of the hanging flower baskets from the park, and maybe some of the fairy lights from the Christmas decorations. If we can get a few volunteers, we could also make some paper lanterns. They”d create a nice ambiance when lit in the evening.”
Her suggestions were met with a chorus of agreement. The committee quickly moved on to other business, discussing sound systems and parade routes. The entire time, Clara felt distracted, her mind bobbing between the upcoming festival and the mystery of Samuel and Victoria.
After the meeting, when everyone was socializing and talking about the upcoming festival, Allison casually grabbed Clara”s arm and pulled her away.
“What”s on your mind, Clara?” Allison whispered. “You usually have an opinion about everything. You looked like you were a million miles away.”
“I was really looking forward to having a date for the street dance,” Clara admitted, her voice tinged with disappointment.
Allison nudged her gently. “Hey, don”t let that get you down. You never know what might happen. You said he agreed to go with you.”
“I know, but I”m losing hope.”
“Don”t give up hope. If it isn”t James, there”s always the chance another hot man will come into your life.”
Clara rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I”m sure that”s going to happen.”
“Hey, stranger things have happened.”
Clara managed a small smile, grateful for Allison”s support. “Thanks.”
“What are friends for?” Allison said, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she patted Clara”s shoulder consolingly. “Just keep your heart open and your hopes high.”
“This is why I didn”t want to date,” Clara pouted. “I don”t like getting jilted.”
Allison laughed. “Does anyone?”
“I should go home,” Clara sighed. “I need to make some calls and make sure the potluck is a well-rounded meal.”
“Hey, if someone drops out, don”t take it all on yourself like you did for the New Year”s party.”
“It”s not like I had anything else to do. I didn”t mind.”
“Still, don”t do it. Let me help you. You don”t have to pick up the slack for everyone. I still think we should have a blacklist. If someone skips out on their duties, they can”t eat at the potluck.”
“I”m not sure that would fly,” Clara laughed. “But you know Mrs. Hunter has about a fifty-fifty track record. She”s signed up to bring an apple pie. I”m already planning to have a backup in the freezer.”
“See, she should be on a blacklist.”
“Stop,” Clara chided. “I”ll see you tomorrow.”
“Don”t overthink this thing with James,” she advised. “He”s not the last man standing. And I”m not ready to count him out just yet.”
“Thanks.”
Clara hugged her and left the meeting. She was looking forward to getting home and digging into that journal once again. The journal and the mystery it held couldn”t have come into her life at a better time. It gave her something else to think about, a distraction from the pain of her loneliness. It made her feel connected, in an odd sort of way, to people who had known their own heartbreaks.
As Clara walked home through the quiet streets of her town, the hanging flower baskets from the park swaying gently in the breeze, she glanced up at the moon. She considered going to the beach for a little quiet time, but the journal beckoned to her.
Once she reached home, she made herself a cup of soothing chamomile tea and settled down on her cozy loveseat with the journal in her lap.