Page 5 of Daddy Bear Picnic

“Oh no, I’ve not heard anything about you, except for how gorgeous you look,” I said, shifting the hand of the pile of letters.

“If only I were younger, and you didn’t bat for the other team,” she let out one of her infamous cackles. You could always tell where Gladys was based on the roaring laughter she filled a room with, either from a one-liner quip, or from the happiness she got when gossip hit her ears. “Anyway, I best get out of here before Rupert and Vera have me escorted out.”

Rupert was behind the counter of the convenience store section, flicking through the paper while his wife, Vera, was in the post office area behind a plexiglass barrier. They’d barely looked at us once, I was sure Gladys had already talked their ears off.

“Oh, actually, you live out near Plum Lane,” she said. “I saw a moving van heading in your direction earlier.”

“That old house has been inherited, so looks like they’re going to be fixing it up and potentially staying at the bed and breakfast,” I told her.

She seemed to plant her feet firmly. “You met them?”

“Malcolm Haynes,” I told her. “Apparently he came up here all the time as a kid. Can’t be any older than thirty, at a push.”

Gladys cooed and tapped her fingers and thumb together. “Right. Yes. The Haynes family, I think I remember. But with the state that house is in, I don’t entirely know how long it was since I last saw them.”

I tried to nod as I wanted to go ahead, but she was not moving. She had questions. We were stuck in a game where she interrogated me with questions about him, what he did, and if he was eye candy, of which I had answers—but I couldn’t show my hand. “An artist,” I told her. And yes, he was cute.

“Well, I’ll be sure to come by with a basket of blueberry muffins,” she said before giving me a pat on the arm and leaving.

Gladys would no doubt spread gossip around like wildfire about Malcolm moving into town, and from the looks on both Rupert and Vera’s faces, they’d been listening the entire time. I tried to run my errands quickly so that I could get back and offer Malcolm my services. I wanted him to have a good first impression, there was something about him that had me wanting him around. A crush, perhaps.

The bakery was busy was with Gladys talking about the house on Plum Lane, everyone had been complaining about it, so she was getting all the attention with the information she’d gleaned second-hand from me. I didn’t stop and chat, just collected a standing order for fresh baguettes, bread rolls, and sourdough bread.

And the final stop was at the hardware store, Mason, the mayor’s husband owned the place. He used to have a construction company but gave it all up when he fell in love with Oliver, the mayor. He was only in town for work, but that weekend, from the stories I’d heard was magical. I didn’t looklike the perceived romantic with my plaid on, beard growing, and a permanent wrinkle notch between my eyes.

I’d been working on some small bird boxes for the local community center, they were running a summer club and I’d roped myself into making bird boxes for them to paint. Apparently, they didn’t want to make them, only color them in, which was fair because building was rough on the hands sometimes, especially with wood and splinters.

“Wood came in an hour ago,” Mason said, waving me over. “You bring your van?”

“Yep, parked down the street,” I said. “It’s the bleached wood, right? It’s for the kids, they want the bright colors to show up.”

He laughed. “Yes, it’s what your ordered, cut into thin and small sheets. But be careful, the bleaching process can compromise the integrity of the wood, so don’t apply too much pressure to it.”

I nodded, following him into the storeroom where there was a thick and tall stack of wood wrapped tightly in a clear film. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I hadn’t worked with that wood before, but it couldn’t be too different from what I had worked with.

“And if you have a spare bird box, I’d love one for Oliver. You know, for him to paint,” Mason added.

“Of course. I think there will be extra, they only asked for twelve.”

Conversation quickly turned to Malcolm, which surprised me but apparently the news travelled faster than even I could.

Mason laughed, pulling out his phone. “I’m in a group chat with other business owners, Gladys is holding everyone at the bakery hostage asking about the Haynes family.”

“How come I’m not in that chat?”

“Ezekiel is,” he said.

Of course, Ezekiel was definitely in the group chat. “I’ll probably be back when I need to order supplies, I’ve told Malcolm I’ll help him. I think more than anything as an act of public service. Just don’t tell your husband or house prices will go up, and then tax.” I rolled my eyes.

Mason continued to chuckle. “He doesn’t have a say in any of that.”

Oliver was town mayor in title only, there wasn’t really any power to it, and Oliver wasn’t the type of person to demand power either, which sort of made me respect him more and want him to have some sort of power, regardless of what I might’ve just said. It was all in good fun.

Once I got back to the bed and breakfast with the stack of wood and food in the van, I was met by Malcolm’s smiling face at the front door. He waved at me, and I knew he was waiting for me to go by the house to assess it.

“Let me unload the van and I’ll grab my tools and we can go over,” I said before he could tell me anything. I climbed out of the van, stretching my back until a small crack and pop sounded.

He had a little excited clap. “Yay. Your brother said—”

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