Jillian Chantal

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.”

It’s that time again. Tuesday Tales. This week, the word prompt is glue. Since I’m writing about a barbecue, I almost put in that the heroine’s lips were glued together by BBQ sauce. 🙂 Hopefully, I did better than that. LOL

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Before she could tell me what the celebration was about, a guy I hadn’t noticed before came out of the house carrying several bottles of champagne. “I brought this but maybe next time, Levi can splurge and we can toast him with Dom Perignon.

Levi laughed and called out, “Tell you what, Nigel, if it’s a success, I’ll do exactly that.”

“What’s going on?” I asked again.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know. I thought you were a long-time friend of the family,” The girl by Del said.

I tried not to get offended. After all I was a long term friend, but Levi and I hadn’t spoken in a while.  Other than when he came upon me while I was digging up treasure in my grandmother’s yard. “Well, I am but as we’ve been busy establishing our careers, I haven’t seen much of him.” I pushed my chair back to go see what the cake said. If this chick wasn’t going to tell me what the celebration was about, maybe the cake would clue me in.

I walked over to his mom as she wielded the knife. “Isn’t it exciting that my son is going to have one of his screenplays made into a movie?”

My shocked eyes that I knew had to be bugging out of my head were glued to his mom’s face. All I could say was, “What?” I didn’t even know he was interested in writing screenplays. How did I not know this? I guess I only thought I knew him.

“It’s so exciting, isn’t it?” His mom kept slicing and plating the cake as she talked. Her face glowed with pride.

The guy with the champagne came up to me. “It’s not very dignified to drink this stuff from a red Solo Cup, but it’s in keeping with a barbecue and with my buddy, Levi’s aesthetic.”

“Not judging by the interior of his home. He seems a bit more dignified than Solo Cups.” I grinned as I took the proffered drink. 

“Hold on to that until we’re ready for the toast.” He moved on, cups in one hand and bottle in the other.

I looked at Levi’s mom. “Let me finish cutting that so you can be over there with your son for the toasts.”

“I think we can leave it for now. I’ve started the serving. If anyone else wants some, they can help themselves. She took my arm and dragged me over to where the crowd was gathered around Levi.

The writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt boil this week. I’m still in my contemporary buried treasure story. The heroine is at a barbecue.

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“As I live and breathe, it’s Heather. My dear, it’s so good to see you.” Levi’s mom dashed over and embraced me in a hug. “Levi didn’t tell me you were coming. He probably thought I’d never believe it.” She let me go and grinned. “I probably wouldn’t have either. You voluntarily showing up at Levi’s house after all the silly pranks between the two of you over the years. I’m so glad the two of you have finally decided to play nice with each other.”

“I didn’t even know he lived here. This house is something, isn’t it?” I wanted to know how in the world he afforded this place, but it was none of my business.

“It sure is. He’s done a wonderful job updating it, don’t you think?”

“He did do wonderfully well. I only got a glimpse into some of the rooms as I walked through, but what I did see was lovely. I have to confess, I didn’t think he had such good taste.”

Mrs. Brown laughed. “I know what you mean. I like to think I had some influence over him over the years, but I admit I’ve been a bit surprised by the way things turned out as well. I’ll get him to give you a tour later. He’s very proud of what he’s done here.”

“As well he should be.” I sniffed the air. “It sure smells good out here. Can’t wait to dig in.”

“I tried to talk him into a low country boil, but he said he’d rather have the barbecue.”

“Either would have been great, but boiled potatoes, shrimp, crab, sausage and corn is quite different than ribs and chicken on the grill.”

“And we have burgers for those who don’t like traditional barbecue sauce.” Levi walked up and stood beside his mother. “Glad you came.” He nodded at my shirt. “And wore your favorite tee as well.”

“Levi, I’m so happy you invited Heather. I haven’t seen her in a while. Once you get everyone settled in, she’d like to see what you’ve done with the house.”

I didn’t want to correct his mom that it was her suggestion for the tour as I did want to see the house. I just wasn’t sure I wanted Levi to know just how much I wanted to see the other rooms.   “Plenty of time for that. What’s the ETA on the grub?” I asked. “I haven’t eaten since my grandmother gave me a cinnamon roll this morning.”

The writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt flower this week. I’m still in my contemporary buried treasure story. The heroine is on her way to a barbecue.

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Since I wasn’t finding anything much that would help me, I decided to search the other last name but when my eyes caught the time at the bottom corner of my screen, I let out a squeal as it was past time for me to get ready for the barbecue. I wanted to wash my hair as I’d been sweating in the back yard and digging around the past two days. I didn’t want to go to a party full of people with hair that made me look like a nasty pig who couldn’t stay out of the mud in the sty. 

I closed my browser and dashed to the shower, taking off items of clothing as I went. I liked to let my hair air dry instead of using hot air on it but it looked like I would have to blow it dry today. “Stupid girl. Too curious for your own good.”

Once I was clean, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a Whitesnake t-shirt. It was well-loved but still in pretty good shape. It would be fun to see Luke’s face when he saw it. He’d bought it for me as a joke because he thought I would hate it. But I actually love the band. I laughed as I remembered how he almost passed out when I made a big deal over the tee and started singing their song, Straight for the Heart. His expression was priceless and I could still see it in my mind’s eye.

I put on my makeup and waited as long as I could before I dried my hair, hoping it would be dry enough not to pouf out like someone from 1959 with a bouffant, back-combed, teased hairdo. This was why I usually wanted natural drying. 

Of course, the hair ended up looking extremely poodle-like. I twisted it into a low chignon and pinned it in place. No way was I going to this party looking like that chick in Young Frankenstein after the monster and she got together. Nope. Nope. Nope. 

On my way out the door, I grabbed my Tulane sweatshirt and tied it around my waist. It would probably cool off significantly when the sun went down and I could use it for warmth. 

Outside, I grabbed a flower from the pale-yellow mum my mom had planted and tucked it into my low bun. May as well be festive with my hopefully tamed monster hair.