Will Lois Barker put down roots in Green . . . or will small-town life be too tough?The charming and uncertain journalist is delighted with her decision to keep The Green News-Item and excited about the possibility of romance with her good-looking catfish farmer/coach neighbor—and the growth of her fresh faith and friendships. Her second year in Green has scarcely been rung in, though, before Lois is wrung out. The former owners of the paper want it back. The mayor’s dog bites her on the face. A series of fires threaten Lois. And while her friends blossom, Lois feels wilted. Although Lois finds fresh hopes turning stale in her second year in Green, in the midst of challenges and lessons, Lois's journey still explodes with possibilities!
Goodness Gracious Green - The Green Series #2
By Judy ChristieAbingdon Press
Copyright © 2010 The United Methodist Publishing House
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4267-0055-2Chapter One
A free puppy has turned into a costly venture for Alice Procell. Miss Alice, 84, adopted Rowdy from Animal Rescue. "I chose him because he was hopping all over his pen and asking me to take him home," she said. In the car, Rowdy continued his enthusiastic ways, crawling onto her lap. "I tried to concentrate on my driving, but that little feller wouldn't take no for an answer." As she pulled into her driveway, Rowdy put himself between our friend and the brake pedal. Not wanting to harm her puppy, she drove through the back of her garage. "All that I hurt was my pride. I've been driving for 70 years and this is my first accident." —The Green News-Item
Don't be fooled by the sweater vests.
I looked out the window and saw the Big Boys standing on my porch. They looked like social studies teachers, except for the grimaces ... and the briefcase.
Of course, in my sweat pants, Mammoth Cave T-shirt, and ponytail, I looked like a high school gym teacher who had fallen on hard times. Maybe I should have chosen the shower over the extra cup of coffee.
I opened the door, loath to start my second year in Green with these men.
"Good morning, Chuck, Dub," I said. "What brings you out to Route 2 so early?" I shivered as a chilly wind blew, and stepped aside for them to enter.
They exchanged a brief look, walked into the warm room, and glanced around the old cottage I happily call home, filled with antiques and a sprinkling of modern art. "Haven't been in here in a while," Dub said. "Aunt Helen loved this place. Lots of memories. You've done a nice job with it."
Chuck frowned at his brother and interrupted in a harsh tone. "Sorry to bother you on New Year's Day, but this isn't a social call. We need to talk to you right away."
"Newspaper business, family matters," Dub said, almost apologetically. "We want to straighten this out before it goes any further."
I motioned to the slip-covered couch and was relieved when they took a seat, giving me a moment to collect my thoughts.
"We've heard some disturbing things around town, Miss Barker. We need to talk to you," Chuck said.
"So you mentioned," I murmured. "I assume you're not here to tell me Happy New Year."
Chuck, the extra-bossy brother, started to stand up, reconsidered, and sat back down. Overweight and red-faced, he breathed loudly, almost with a wheeze. He must have put on forty pounds in the past six months. "We're here to buy back The News-Item," he said. "We're prepared to make you a good offer."
"A real good offer," Dub said. A fairly trim man, he was aging better than his older brother. He looked fit today and seemed almost cheerful. He wore his standard khakis and a crisp long-sleeved lilac shirt under a purple-and-gold plaid vest. Dressed like that, he left no doubt he rooted for his beloved LSU Tigers.
"The paperwork's all drawn up, and we'll give you a check today." Chuck clicked open the leather satchel and pulled out files. His brother fished in the shirt pocket under his vest and produced an expensive fountain pen.
"But ... but ..." I shook my head. "The Item isn't for sale. I own the newspaper. The staff and I own it."
"Of course it's for sale," Chuck said. "Everything's for sale. We heard about that ridiculous little profit-sharing ploy of yours, letting employees have a piece of the action. Won't work." He held out a check and waved it in my face. "This is a generous offer. Take it. Take it."
I stepped back, nearly falling over the ottoman in front of my favorite chair. Like the water moccasins that lived in the pond across the road, Chuck looked ready to strike at any moment. Neighbors who lived closer would be nice right about now.
"I'm not sure what this is all about, but let me emphasize that The Green News-Item is not for sale. I have established a partnership with the employees, and we have big plans for this year. End of story."
I walked to the door, as dignified as I could be in my saggy fleece pants. My heart pounded and my hand trembled as I opened the door an inch or two, still facing the men.
"Green means too much to me to even listen to you two," I said. "I'm staying here. You're going."
Before Chuck and Dub could stand, a light knock sounded, and the door swung open further. In walked Mayor Eva Hillburn, carrying her spoiled Yorkie terrier, Sugar Marie.
"Happy New Year, Lois," Eva said. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the McCuller men, a rare show of what she was feeling. She nodded and stroked her dog's back. "Dub. Chuck. I thought that was your truck out front. Have I come at a bad time?"
"This is a great time, Mayor," I said. I reached around the dog to give her a half hug.
At the same time I leaned toward Eva, Dub moved off the couch, an odd mix of delight and dismay on his face. His jerky motion in the direction of the mayor seemed to startle the little dog, who barked and tried to get out of Eva's arms. Chuck clapped his hands loudly and said, "Hush, you little mutt."
I stepped closer to the mayor, and that seemed to be it for Sugar Marie. She barked again and jumped at me, biting me on the face. For good measure, she nipped my hand. The living room, already tense, became frenzied. Dub hurried forward. Eva turned, hugging the whimpering dog. I reached my hand to my cheek and felt blood.
Maybe year two in Green was not going to be so great after all.
"Sugar Marie, bad girl, bad girl," Eva said, stroking her.
"Oh my word," Dub said, handing me the white handkerchief he always carried. "Use this. Apply pressure."
"Good gosh," Chuck said, snapping the briefcase shut and rising. "It's only a scratch. That obnoxious little fur ball couldn't hurt a fly. She's not a Rottweiler. Come on, Dub."
They moved toward the door, and Chuck turned to look at me as the brothers stepped onto the porch. "This conversation is not over. We'll be in touch."
Stunned, I didn't say a word. I started to offer Dub his handkerchief, but it had blood on it. I held it back to my face, my mouth ajar, as though I had a bad cold and couldn't breathe through my nose. Eva began to examine the bite while I watched the McCullers slam the gigantic black pickup doors, spin gravel on the driveway, and head toward Green.
"I have no idea what that was about," I said and dabbed at my eye, noting more blood.
"Goodness gracious! What a way to start the year," Eva said. "I'm so sorry." The mayor, a normally calm woman with a personality as controlled as her hairdo, shook her head and steered me inside. She apologized again and scolded Sugar Marie.
"I'm thrilled you're staying in Green, and now look at what's happened. We have to get you to the doctor.... Sugar Marie, whatever came over you?"
Eva was more flustered than I had ever seen her, even during the final days of the tight mayoral race. "Did she get your eye? Here, let me take another look." She buzzed around me like a hummingbird going for a feeder, her hum of anxiety almost audible.
Sugar Marie, now out of Eva's arms, sniffed around the room. I wondered if the dog would insult me further by peeing on the floor, but she settled for picking up...