Chapter 20
The characters had stopped talking to her again. Hannah’s Monday afternoon writing session at the coffee shop was decidedly unproductive. She went there earlier since she wasn’t shadowing at the law firm anymore. She took a long walk soon after she woke, enjoyed her coffee and breakfast with her aunt, did some laundry, and around eleven made her way to the coffee shop. Because she was going to sit there for several hours, she made sure to have a bagel for lunch and a few hours later, a cookie and a second coffee.
Hannah fired up her laptop as soon as she arrived, sure it was going to be a good day, and instead it felt like pulling teeth to get any words onto the page. She was totally stuck about where to go next and she was feeling the worst possible thing a writer could feel as they wrote—boredom. Though she also knew it might not be real, that it was just doubt and worry messing with her as it often did at this point in the process.
But she also knew that when this feeling crept over her that usually something needed fixing. She needed to find the joy and excitement in her story again. She smiled to herself thinking it would be so much easier if she wrote mysteries and could add a dead body or something. Instead she had to find an interesting new predicament that would either bring her couple closer together or temporarily put an obstacle in their path until they could overcome it and have their happily ever after.
But all her ideas felt so boring. And as she often did when she was stuck, she surfed the internet, catching up on all the celebrity gossip and what her friends were posting on social media. It fascinated and annoyed her the way people would sometimes gush on social media about their partner. It always seemed odd to Hannah to post something so personal that seemed like it would make more sense to say privately, either in person or on a lovely handwritten card.
Instead, they posted it on social media, for the world to see. The writer in Hannah often wondered if they did it to convince themselves, and if things in the real world were different and perhaps darker than they wanted to admit. It was easier, safer to pretend online that everything was just peachy, couldn’t be better.
Hannah left the coffee shop around two and headed home to print out the pages that she planned to bring to Joy’s for the writing group. She walked over a few minutes before three and this time everyone was there already, including Louise, the one who’d been late before.
Joy smiled and welcomed her in. “Excellent, everyone is here and ready to go. Let’s get started.” They did their free-writing exercise and then everyone went around and checked in. When it was Hannah’s turn she sighed.
“Everything was going better, until today. I’ve reached a point, about halfway through the story, and I’m not sure yet where I need to go next. I honestly have no idea what to do with these people and wonder how I can possibly fill another forty thousand words of story.”
Joy looked sympathetic. “You’re not alone, dear. That happens to me at least once with every book. I used to panic but now I’ve just accepted that it’s part of my process. I don’t outline, either, so that may be a factor. But we have to do what works best for us.”
The others all nodded in agreement.
“Even though you don’t outline, what if you jot down some notes?” Joy said. “I do that when I get stuck. I take a little time to think about some things I know that need to happen next. And then I think about what the very next scene could be and what fun thing or twist I can include to make the scene fun for me and hopefully for the reader.”
Hannah smiled. “Thank you. I like that idea. I tried fully outlining once and hated it. But maybe just a few notes might help me to think through where I need to go next.”
They finished up a little earlier than usual and as Joy said goodbye to everyone, she whispered for Hannah to stay. Once everyone was gone, she turned to Hannah.
“Do you have time for a cup of tea? I want to hear all about that fancy dinner you went to with my grandson.”
Hannah laughed. “Sure.” She and Aunt Maddie were just planning to order pizzas for dinner and it was only four thirty. She had time to visit for a bit.
Joy kept an electric teakettle plugged in and had hot water ready to go for their tea. Hannah chose a vanilla herbal flavor and they sat in the kitchen. Ben was in the house, but was working in his shop in the basement. Now and then Hannah could hear the faint whir of one of his sanding machines.
She told Joy all about the event, describing the crowd and all the food they’d had and the band. Joy didn’t drink, so she didn’t mention the wines. Joy loved music and she and Ben both liked to sing in Christmas choral productions.
“I know that band. Ray, the vocalist, is friends with Ben. They are very good.”
Hannah agreed that the band was great. “How is your book coming along?” She knew Joy was about a quarter of the way into writing a new mystery.
Her eyes lit up. “I think I know who the killer is. It came to me yesterday. Along with a few other scene ideas. It’s shaping up quite nicely.”
Hannah had read one of Joy’s books and enjoyed it. It was a more traditional mystery, focused on puzzle solving with interesting social issues covered in each book. The sleuth was also loosely based on herself as she was a minister living on Cape Cod and her husband was British, retired, and forever embarking on a new home-improvement project.
A moment later, Hannah heard footsteps coming up the spiral staircase that led to the basement. Ben walked over to a drawer in the kitchen, muttering under his breath. He opened several drawers, still muttering. Joy and Hannah exchanged looks before Joy jumped up to help him.
“What are you looking for?”
“Have you seen my Phillips screwdriver?”
Joy opened another drawer and held up a screwdriver. “Is this it?”
“That’s the one. Thank you!” He took it and started back toward the stairs.
“What do you need the screwdriver for?”
“I need to open the air-conditioning vent in the ceiling. Just getting ready for summer.”
Joy faced her husband and put her hands on her hips. Her tone was firm, but Hannah also picked up a bit of anxious worry. “Ben, you don’t need to do that now. I don’t want you on a ladder. Wait for Spencer to do that for you.”
“Maybe I could help?” Hannah offered.
Joy shook her head. “This is not urgent. Ben can wait for Spencer. He knows how to do it.”
Ben muttered something under his breath and headed back down to his shop.
Hannah and Joy turned their attention back to their tea and conversation. Joy continued talking about what she was working on.
“So, I think I have a really good idea for the next book in the series too. It just came to me while I was watching TV last night.”
A sudden loud crash in the basement followed by an angry scream of frustration brought them to their feet.
Joy ran down to the basement, with Hannah right behind her. Ben was lying on the floor, next to a ladder, and held the screwdriver in his right hand.
“Ben, did you fall off that ladder?” Joy didn’t sound upset, just scared, and she’d gone pale.
He nodded, then grimaced in pain. “I’ve done it a million times before. But I just lost my footing for some reason.” He tried to get up, but couldn’t put any weight on his leg to stand.
“Don’t move. I’m calling 911.” Joy had her phone in her shirt pocket, pulled it out, and made the call. Less than five minutes later there was a knock on the door and the paramedics quickly assessed Ben, put him on a stretcher, and carried him out the front door of the basement, which was easier to navigate than the spiral stairs.
Joy’s hands shook a little as she looked around the room for her purse. She found it on the kitchen counter and headed for the door.
“Joy, can I drive you to the hospital? I can keep you company for a bit.” Hannah didn’t want her driving when she was this worried.
Joy hesitated then quickly accepted. “If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate that. I called Spencer but had to leave him a voice message. He may be tied up with work for a while, but I let him know we’re heading to the hospital.”
Spencer arrived at the Cape Cod Hospital about two hours after his grandparents.
A nurse in the ER directed him to where his grandfather was being seen. It was one of those areas that had eight or so beds with curtain partitions separating them. His grandfather was lying in a bed with a cast on one leg and an IV in his arm. His grandmother and Hannah were sitting in chairs on either side of the bed. He looked surprised to see Hannah there.
His grandmother stood and he walked over and gave her a hug.
“What did the doctor say?” he asked gently, as it was clear Joy was still upset.
“Your grandfather shouldn’t have been on that ladder.” She glanced at Ben with disapproval. “He couldn’t wait for you to check his air-conditioning vent—even though I told him not to climb that ladder.”
“I should have listened to your grandmother,” Ben said sheepishly. “I missed a step and went down hard. I wasn’t even all the way to the top. I suppose it could have been worse.”
“He broke his leg and will have to wear a cast,” Joy said. “The doctor wants him to take it easy and keep all weight off his leg for a while. But other than that, he’s okay. His blood work came back fine. He’s just a little low on potassium, which could have been a factor. He said he was a little light-headed. They gave him some pills.”
“Well, I’m glad it wasn’t worse. I am sorry you broke your leg, though, Gramps. I guess this means you won’t be able to come to the Red Sox game with me on Wednesday?”
His grandfather glanced at his grandmother and she answered for him. “Absolutely not, I’m afraid. Your grandfather isn’t going anywhere for a while.”
“Okay. No problem. I’m sorry you’ll have to miss it, but we’ll go to another game later this season.”
The nurse came in a moment later, took his grandfather’s IV out, and handed him a stack of discharge paperwork. She smiled at his grandfather. “The doctor said to be sure to remind you to stay off all ladders.”
His grandfather chuckled. “Message received. My wife said the same thing.”
“He didn’t listen to me though,” Joy said.
“I promise. No more ladders.” His grandfather picked up the pen and signed the paperwork and handed the signature page back to the nurse.
“You’re good to go,” she said cheerfully.
“Spencer, do you want to drive your grandfather home and I’ll ride with Hannah? He could use your help getting into the house.”
“I can manage fine,” his grandfather said. “They’re sending me home with crutches.”
“Which you’ve never used before,” Joy reminded him.
“Of course, I’ll help get him settled when we get home,” Spencer said.
When Spencer pulled into the driveway, Hannah and Joy had just arrived and were standing by the car waiting. Spencer helped his grandfather out of the car and stood close by as Ben slowly moved on the crutches.
“Hannah, thanks a million for going to the hospital and keeping us company,” Joy said.
“Of course. I’m glad Ben is going to be okay.”
Ben looked at her thoughtfully. “Yes, thank you, Hannah.” His gaze shifted to Spencer. “You know, maybe Hannah might want to go to that game with you? Unless you have someone else in mind.”
Spencer looked surprised by the suggestion. “No, I don’t have anyone else in mind. I took the day off and it’s too short notice for any of my friends to do the same. Would you want to go, Hannah? It could be fun. And I really do appreciate you helping my grandparents.”
Hannah eagerly accepted the invitation. “I haven’t been to a Red Sox game in years. I’d actually love to go.”
“Great. It’s an afternoon game. A one o’clock start. I was thinking we’d leave a little before eleven, just in case we hit traffic. I like to just grab lunch there if that works for you?”
She smiled. “Hot dogs at Fenway are the best. Sounds good to me.”
His grandfather looked pleased. “It’s settled then. You two have fun.” They all headed in as Hannah waved goodbye and climbed back into her car. She didn’t expect that she’d see Spencer so soon after the charity event and she was excited at the thought of spending the day in Boston with him.