Chapter 3
Changing Winds
Autumn
The next day at work, I was sorting through large bags of donations for our church’s food pantry when Colletta walked in.
“Good morning, Autumn,” she said as joyfully as usual. Her bouncy brunette curls and freckled nose that always scrunched when she greeted people never failed to brighten my day.
“Hi! You’re just in time. I am about to start the ‘Expiration Date’ game.
Want to play?” We couldn’t put food out that was one year’s past expiry.
There were very few instances where the staff didn’t take the food that couldn’t go out, though.
Except the one time someone donated a box of biscuit mix from the ripe year of 1967.
“You always make that sound so much fun, but I regretfully decline,” she giggled, taking a sip of her coffee from The Pumpkin Perk Cafe.
Their signature pink cups gave it away every time.
Besides, they were the best coffee shop in town.
Never mind the only shop in town. “I have one more year of receipts to digitize before we are officially brought into the twenty-first century.” Colletta was a part-time bookkeeper, tasked with dealing with an entire 12x12 room filled with receipts, donations, and fundraising income.
The system had always been done by hand, but when the last bookkeeper retired, Colletta felt up to the job of modernizing everything.
“I have a feeling I’ll be having more fun,” I smiled, as she set her newspaper down on the table I was using to sort through the food donations.
“If you get anything older than that can of soup last week—what was it from, the 90’s?
Give me a shout. I’ve got a teenager who is trying to go viral for whacky stunts, and that sounds like just the thing he’d be willing to try.
” I cringed, knowing that Colletta might have a hefty urgent care bill after eating something so old, but I agreed.
Colletta chatted for another minute before disappearing to the back room where all of the money was handled, shutting the door behind her.
The newspaper sat on the table the rest of the morning, as I had planned on giving it back to her when she came out for lunch. But when I decided to sit down for a break, I picked it up and thumbed through its ink-laden pages. The headlines were stark.
Fire Threat in Maple Haven Grows. Drought Worsens.
Cattle Sell-Off Begins as Farmers Can’t Raise Enough Alfalfa.
My heart sank. I lived here. I was raised here.
Born in the Maple Haven Hospital, where the nursery was called The Pumpkin Patch.
Yet, I had no idea of the dire conditions our town had been living in.
I’d been far too preoccupied with other things.
Things that stemmed from the ring that was placed on my left hand, with a promise to wed.
The guilt of not knowing how bad things were becoming around here was overpowering, and, taking Hailey Wilder’s plea, I prayed for rain.
At the back of the newspaper, there was a small but urgent notice for a job posting.
In bold, type-face letters, my interest peaked when I read it was for the Maple Haven Fire District.
My memory of the handsome firefighter crept into my thoughts before I swatted them away.
Lord, please keep these inappropriate thoughts away from my mind!
I did not want to tread lightly on feelings of attraction as I was betrothed to another. I refocused my attention.
As I studied the job posting, Colletta finally emerged from the financial office. Her curls looked a little less bouncy. Her nose was un-scrunched. Exhaustion crossed her face.
“Are you okay?” I asked with genuine concern. She smiled and tilted her head.
“Yes, why?” I shook my head.
“Oh, forgive me. I thought you looked really defeated for a moment there.” She nodded.
“To be honest, I feel defeated by Pastor Nick’s, hand-written notes.
” Pastor Nick had filled in for Pastor Cody when he left for a year on a very important mission trip.
“That man couldn’t add 1+1 without using a calculator.
He may be filled with the Holy Spirit, but he skipped elementary math.
It’s okay, though. I’ve almost got it all sorted.
It turns out, we are in a bit of a deficit, I’m afraid.
A little bit of a pinch.” My heart skipped.
“A pinch?” The solemn look on her face told me it was more than that.
When I was little, the neighbor lady took me to the movies one afternoon.
She was single and off for a few weeks in the summer.
My parents were elated that it meant free babysitting for the day, although to be fair, I mostly stayed home by myself anyway.
The neighbor, Samantha, drove a beige convertible and had a silk scarf and big, dramatic sunglasses on.
She looked like a movie star herself. I thought she was the prettiest woman I’d ever seen, and I wanted to be just like her when I grew up.
When we arrived at the movies, she was still wearing her white leather driving gloves.
Her purse had a chain strap with ribbon woven through the metal links, and the leather embroidery satchel had one of those metal clasps that looked like marbles.
As she reached inside, she exclaimed that she was in a little bit of a pinch, as she forgot her checkbook, so we only had enough to get candy, popcorn, or soda.
I got to choose whichever one I wanted. But we couldn’t get all three.
The expression on Colletta’s face was so much grimmer than Samantha saying she was in a pinch. She shrugged and looked off.
“I need to talk to the board before I can confirm anything. I’m actually really sorry that I said anything so soon. Until I have confirmation, please don’t share that with anyone, okay?” I agreed quickly.
“Of course. I won’t tell anyone anything.
” The air was still between us. “Do I need to worry about it?” I whispered, knowing that a job like mine was lavish for a church to begin with.
I answered phones, organized donations, sorted through holiday decor, planned gatherings and outings—I certainly wasn’t crucial to the operations.
In fact, we had volunteers who could do all of these things.
But I loved it, and I was so grateful every day for this job.
The thought of it going away made me uneasy.
“No, no. Of course not, Autumn. Again, I’m very regretful that I said anything.
Please forgive me for stressing you out.
” She gave my shoulder a squeeze and took the last sip of her coffee that I was certain had to be ice cold by now.
She walked out the front doors, and I was again alone in the building. Alone in my thoughts.