A Gathering Place

Are there times when you long for the warmth of a friendly home, the sincerity of a smile, the familiarity of people and a certain place, the knowledge that you are welcome? Do you ever turn to a well-loved book to recapture that comfort? I do. I go to Mary Roberts Rinehart.

How many times have I read The Wall? More than once, let me tell you. Last night, I began reading it again. It’s a return visit to the house of a friend.

Mrs. Rinehart is my mentor as I write. I like to include the conversations of trusted friends, the familiarity of a  cheerful fireplace and a good cup of coffee. It is a well-known theme of all eight of my cozy mysteries on Amazon.

           I smiled at Janey, our young waitress at Grandy’s. She knew what we would order and soon my caramel mocha coffee was in front of me.

            Pat and Jackie sat across from me in the back booth of our favorite coffee shop. Pat took a sip of decaf and sighed. “I’m so on edge that I can’t afford a jolt of caffeine. Any day now, I’ll be a grandma. Can you believe it?”

            Jackie grinned. “I can. You’ve been reminding us for the past nine months. How’s Coradee feeling?”

            Pat shook her head. “That girl! I can’t get her to slow down. She’s cleaning the apartment, folding and refolding baby clothes; she has more energy than is decent.”

            “How about you, Jackie?” I asked. “Are you adapting to mothering a twelve-year old boy?”

            Jackie’s face lit up. “It’s such fun. I didn’t know what I was missing all those years before Mike came to live with us. That boy is so busy. He’s in sports and the school band. It’s hard to keep up with him, but I love it.”

            “Your life has changed a bit, too, Ned. Tell us how you’re adjusting?” Pat said. “You practically have a new family, with Marianne and Bonnie being back from the mission field.”

            Taking a deep breath, I told them about Mrs. Gregory and our fear that Bonnie would be taken away.

            Pat’s eyes widened. “Oh, she can’t do that, surely!”

            Jackie reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Ron is looking into it. He’s going to do everything in his power to make sure she doesn’t. You know that, Ned.”

            I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I know. I appreciate Ron.” I took another swallow of mocha and wiped a dab of whipped cream from my nose. “There’s something else, though, that I want to run by you two. You remember that Daisy bought the Saunders place outside of town?”

           Shaking her head, Pat said, “I have no earthly idea why she’d want that run-down, spooky old place. You couldn’t get me near there for love nor money.”

           “Not even for a shadow on the staircase?” I asked and launched into my scary encounter.

            They both listened quietly, Pat’s eyes growing wider and wider and Jackie thoughtfully sipping her coffee.

            “So, now,” I finished, “I need two stalwart, brave, and true companions to go with me for moral support. I should get some inside pictures of the house for Daisy’s brochure.” I didn’t mention the man in the yard. The more I thought about him, the more unreal he seemed.

            Pat gasped. “You can’t mean that. You know that old place is haunted.”

            “Well,” Jackie drawled, “I, for one, think it’s intriguing. A shadow? Strange, though, that he or she didn’t speak.”

            I nodded. “That’s what I think. Wouldn’t a person have said something? Since this is a sunny day, not dark like yesterday, it’d be a good time to go back. I don’t blame you if you don’t want to go. I’m not really afraid, but I admit I’m a bit apprehensive.”

            “What?” Pat nearly choked on her de-café. “Don’t go back, Ned. That’s crazy! Why, who knows what’s out there? If nothing else, I’m sure there are spiders and maybe snakes. Uh-uh. Count me out.”

            “I’ll go,” Jackie said. We had nearly reached the door when Pat caught up with us. 

Murder By Moonlight, the eighth Ned McNeil cozy mystery.