Jillian Chantal

Good Tuesday morning. This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt, quick. Pop by and visit all of us and leave a comment. We love comments.

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After Levi and my grandad debated which apostle was on the spoon and couldn’t reach a consensus, Levi left with a promise to Grandad to do some research on that as well as the research he’d already committed to helping me with.

Grandma got home almost soon enough to have passed Levi in the driveway. I stayed and chatted for a while but took my leave within about twenty minutes of Levi.

I stopped at Walgreens on the way home as I remembered I was almost out of toothpaste and I wouldn’t have time the rest of the week to do much for myself until that reception for the visiting Spanish dignitaries was over. My boss was a prime jerk as well as a perfectionist so I knew what my week would be in advance. If I didn’t need to keep working this job in order to make my resume look better, I’d quit. Sadly, in this day and age, leaving a job after less than a year was frowned upon. It made one look like they were hard to get along with. Even if the boss was an utter jerk, it would look like sour grapes to have to explain to a prospective employer that you left a job because the boss was an ass. They might wonder what I might say about them someday. And of course, this politician I worked for would put on the charm campaign if the prospective employer called him for a reference. So, for now, I stay where I am.

All this was running through my mind as I walked toward the oral care aisle. I might as well grab mouthwash while I’m here. I glanced down toward that part of the aisle.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t quick enough to see that coming toward me was exactly who I didn’t want to see. Annette.

Too late to duck to the dog food aisle and hide behind a jumbo bag of kibble, I had no choice but to acknowledge her.

Not wanting to lead off with, “Oh, congrats on not being in jail,” instead, I said, “I popped in for toothpaste. What’s your Sunday afternoon pharmacy emergency?”

“Oh, so you’re going to play it like that?”

Okay so the girl is still unstable and ready for a fight. Trying to keep her on an even keel, I shook my head slightly. “I’m not playing around. I just asked a question. Sorry you’re still angry at me for some reason. I’ll let you get on with it.” I indicated the Colgate section just past where she stood at the Crest section. “Let me grab this and I’ll get out of your way.”

She reached for my arm, but I twirled away from her, pulling my body out of her reach. “You’re in enough trouble so I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.”

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt common. I have picked up right where I left off last week so if you need to scroll back to see last week, it’s there.

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“Of course I do. That’s pretty much common knowledge around where we grew up. Always in the pew on Sunday mornings whether we wanted to be or not.”

“And now look at us, Sunday morning digging for treasure.” I brushed my hair off my forehead, surprised at how damp it was from my exertions with the metal detector. That was supposed to be the easy part of the deal.

“I also know there’s a Bible verse about not laying up treasure here on earth.”

“Very funny. I want to solve the mystery and return the jewelry to the person’s family. It seems to me that some of these items will have great sentimental value to someone.”

“But why bury it and then abandon it if it means something special?” Levi plunged the trowel into the ground again. “We may have found everything now. Seems so anyway. I’m not finding anything else.”

“I’d still like to locate that other ruby earring. I wonder why only one turned up.”

Levi grinned. “I know. The woman who buried it gave it to the man she planned to elope with. He absconded with the valuable ruby and left her in the lurch.” He held up his right index finger. “No. Wait. The poor devil was rushing back to her from getting money from the bank to finance their run and he was tragically hit by a train. In her grief, she buried all the gifts he’d ever given her and checked into a nunnery.”

“Until last night, I had no idea who you were. No idea at all.” I shook my head. “I must say, I’m not surprised you wrote a book. This sounds like some kind of angst-ridden women’s fiction.  I sincerely hope your novel isn’t that melodramatic.”

“Ha ha. I think I just came up with the plot for my next book.” He pretended to write by moving his hand in the air. “Memo to my editor. New novel. Must be set in early 1920s when rail travel was popular. Cue tears and melodrama. My friend is against it, but I know we can make it work.”

“You’re impossible.” I ran the metal detector across the area by the hole again, hoping for that ruby earring.

“No. Listen. Hear me out. There really has to be some explanation for why this stuff was buried and abandoned? Why could it not be something like that?”

“You’re right that it was probably something tragic, but your scenario doesn’t explain the baby bracelet.”

“Maybe she and her child were planning to flee an abusive husband. She buried it as her escape plan and never got the chance to get the jewelry dug up as he killed her.”

“Well that’s certainly morbid, but I searched the newspaper for articles for this house and surely if there was a murder here, there would have been some article mentioning it.”

He pointed the trowel at me. “Good point, Sherlock.”

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt seeds. I am still seeking buried treasure.

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“Like I told you yesterday, I date a lot because I’m never satisfied with who I find since they aren’t the woman I truly think of as the one forever girl.”

“And who is this paragon of womanhood? Do I know her?” I was really interested as I’d never known him to date anyone long enough to have made any commitment to one woman. Of course, I’d also been out of touch with him and his family for a while.

“Why don’t we see what set that thing off instead?” Levi tilted his head toward the tool still in my hand.

Clearly he wanted to change the subject, so I let it drop. For now. “You have the digger.”

“Right.” He used the trowel for a moment and I heard a clink in just a few seconds. “Close to the surface here.” He poked his fingers in the dirt and pulled out something small and round.

Wiping the dirt off with his palm, he stared at it.

“What is it?” I looked down as he worked, impatient to see it.

“Looks like a cameo with white seeds around the edges.” He handed it up to me.

“You mean seed pearls. These are seed pearls.” I looked closer at the brooch. “It’s quite unusual, isn’t it? I’ve never seen one with a blue background. It’s very pretty.”

“They’re usually brown, aren’t they? My grandmother had a couple she wore sometimes.”

“Yeah. I’ve seen some that are white as well but never this blue color.” I peered into the hole he dug. “Anything else in there of interest?”

“Let’s excavate a bit more.” He stuck the trowel in again and there was another clanking sound. “That one sounded a bit different.” He pulled out what looked like a piece of flatware.

“What the heck?” I bent closer to see as he wiped off the dirt.

“Wow. Look at this.” Levi held it up to me. “Ever seen one of these before?”

“A spoon? Yes, of course I’ve seen a spoon.”

He pointed to the opposite end of the bowl. “It’s an apostle spoon.”

“A what?” I reached for it.

“A set of twelve spoons with one of the apostles at the end. Usually sterling silver. Not sure which chap we have here but it’s definitely part of a set of apostle spoons.”

“Who’s the one who helps find lost things? Maybe it’s him.”

“No idea. I’m Methodist as you know. We don’t do saints of lost stuff.”

“But you do know who the apostles are, right?” I grinned, not expecting a Sunday school lesson but just teasing him. 

The writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt green this week. I am still dragging around in this buried treasure story.

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“It’s a conspiracy for sure. The person who buried the jewelry and box knew I would be searching for clues all these years later and decided to thwart me, right?” I laughed.

“I remember when you were a kid and used to accuse Levi of sitting up at night with his pals and conspiring against you. Finding ways to annoy you as a hobby.”

“That part was true. Levi did do that. You’ll never convince me otherwise.”

“I used to do what?” Levi asked as he came around the corner toward me and Grandad.

I stifled a gasp. He looked extra handsome this morning. The teal green polo shirt he had on matched his eyes so well that they stood out on his face more vividly than they usually did. The guy is definitely handsome. No wonder all the ladies line up to date him. But not me. Nope.

“What brings you here, young man? I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age. How is your mother doing? Haven’t seen her either. I know she kept to herself for a long while after your dad passed. Is she getting more social now? We’d like to invite her over if she is.” Granddad shoved his hat backward a bit on his head and wiped his brow with an old bandana he pulled out of his pocket. “Hot day for fall, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir, it is. I was glad it was warm last night for my last barbecue of the season, but I’m ready for some cooler temperatures for sure.” Levi reached out his right hand. “Want me to take that metal detector so you can go inside and cool off?”

“Ah, no, lad. I’m not so doddering I can’t take a little heat. What’s your interest in metal detecting? Or do you have other interests around here?”

Now I want to fall in the hole we’re digging.  Trust Granddad not to be subtle. He was fishing to see if Levi was interested in me. It’s no secret our families always wanted us to make a match. I needed to nip this in the bud. “Maybe you do need to cool off a bit, Granddad. Go inside for some lemonade or an Arnold Palmer.”

“All you had to say was you wanted to be alone and I’d go, Heather.” Granddad winked. The old codger.

Before I could respond, Levi said, “No need to go. I’m here because I’m interested in the jewelry find. I have to confess, it’s intrigued me.”

Well that was kind of a gut punch. True, I’ve never been interested in him as a boyfriend, but that remark hurt.

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt gut. I am working on my buried treasure story.

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“Your grandmother made some croissants. They’re in the kitchen. She’s gone to meet her friend, Marge, so we may not see her at all today.”

My gut was screaming at me to be fed, but I wasn’t sure about a croissant. That was a lot of carbs when I just had cinnamon rolls yesterday. It was better I eat the protein bar in my bag. But I also knew just how good Grandma’s croissants were. The flakiness of the inside was unmatched even in a Paris boulangerie. “Maybe later. I can put some turkey on one for lunch.”

“Best be hoping your gran doesn’t make it back in time to see that.” Grandad waggled the metal detector he held in his hand. “You know she only likes real butter on them. Anything else is an abomination.”

“You yourself said she would be with Marge all day.” I set my bag on the bench under the tree and plopped down on my rear near the hole I’d already been digging in. “Have you found anything yet with that thing?”

“I was just getting started when you came in the yard.” He stepped over toward my hole. “Let me run this thing over there.”

As soon as he waved the thing around, it went off. A lot.

“Wow,” I said. “And I thought I’d gotten all we could out of it.” I grabbed the little trowel I’d worked with before and dug out some more dirt. “Do you see anything?”

Grandad knelt beside me and moved some soil with his hands. “Look here.” He rooted around with his right index and middle fingers and pulled up a long chain that appeared to have gemstones on it. Not covering it solidly, but interspersed around the whole thing every few inches. It was colorful and would probably shine nicely when cleaned.

I reached out a tentative finger to touch it. “It’s beautiful. I still can’t understand why someone would bury all these things out in the yard. It makes no sense.”

Grandad kept digging. “You didn’t find anything at the library then?”

He looked up at me as I answered. “I found two women who lived in this house who might have the right initials, but I ran out of time before I could do a deep dive on the history of either one.”

“Well, that is progress.” He grinned. “And so is this.” He held up what looked like a tiny bracelet. It had blue and white beads. “Looks like one of those old bracelets they used to put on babies born at the hospital. “Maybe that’s a clue too. Check how many years they used them at Central Hospital. Blue for boys and pink for girls. Then you could narrow down the years possible as well as tell if the woman had a son or daughter.”

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt, leg. I’m still at the BBQ in my story.

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“Thanks.” I finished eating the rib as Del left to fetch reinforcements. I glanced over to where Levi sat with another group. He was staring off into space and the muscle in his jaw was working as if he was gritting his teeth. I felt sorry for him. Here he was trying to have a wonderful Saturday evening with friends and Annette had ruined it just like she ruined his date with Susanne last night. He probably was ruing the day he ever took Annette out even once. I surprised myself by the depth of my feeling bad for him. This was definitely a change from my younger days. Not that I ever would have been unkind about him suffering any heartache. More likely, I wouldn’t have believed it possible. But he did look angry as well as sad at the same time.

Del came back with a few more ribs on a plate and set them between us. “Help yourself.”

I took one more, planning to eat it after the piece of chicken I already had on my plate. It looked good too. Just the right amount of sear as well as a bit of char on the sauce. Yes, this John guy was truly gifted with barbecue skills.

A blob of sauce landed on the leg of my jeans when I picked up the chicken leg to bite into it. “Great,” I muttered.

The girl on the other side of Del said, “At least it wasn’t on that white shirt.” She put her hand out across Del’s plate. “I’m Valerie, by the way.”

I shook her hand. “Heather.”

“Hey, didn’t your mother teach you it’s rude to reach across the table?”

“If you’d been polite, you’d have introduced me to Heather when you asked her to come sit with us, bucko.”

Just as it was dawning on me that they might be a couple, Valerie winked at me. “Besides, we have the same mother.”

“That’s beside the point.” Del helped himself to another rib.

I laughed. “And here I was thinking you two were dating.”

At the same time Del said, “God forbid,” Valerie said, “John might have something to say about that.”

“Ahh so one of you is lucky enough to be dating the brilliant barbecue artist.” I looked from one to the other trying to determine which one.

“It’s worse than that, I’m afraid,” Del said.

“Good God, Del, you’re going to make her think we’re some weird, incest obsessed threesome.” Valerie shook her head. “He’s such a jerk sometimes trying to get a reaction from people. He and John are married. He likes to tell people that’s a fate worse than jail.”