Songbird Season Read online

Melinda pulled the covers up to her chin, enjoying their extra warmth, and gazed at the ceiling. The room’s shadows were changing from black to gray, the sun starting to rise over the horizon on the other side of the house.

  What would this new decade bring? The last one had been full of twists and turns she never could have imagined; maybe it was best not to know.

  “So many things have changed, even in just the last year.” She was truly talking to herself now, as Grace had curled back into a ball and was already asleep. “If someone would have told me this is how things would be, I never would have believed it.”

  When she turned thirty, a time that seemed like it was several decades ago, she’d felt so old. All she could see then was that her twenties were over, her college years fading so far into the past she could barely remember them. It had felt like her real adult life was just beginning, and it was thrilling and scary all at the same time.

  She gripped the top edge of the comforter, and sifted through her jumbled thoughts. What had she wanted then? Oh, yes, she had big hopes for her marketing career, a string of promotions that would launch her into the top tier of WP&S. Those accolades had started to come her way, faster than she even hoped for. But the corner office never materialized. In the end, all she had left was a meager severance package, a nearly empty cardboard box, and a string of lonely days that seemed to never end. Then Uncle Frank had his heart attack, and everything changed again.

  What else? A house, of course. Marriage, children …

  She thought of Craig, of the whirlwind romance that had quickly turned into a comfortable habit, his inevitable proposal. Of the house they’d planned to buy, the little bungalow with the iron fence not far from Melinda’s vintage apartment. The day she’d mustered the courage to end it all.

  At first, it had felt so easy, so expected. But no matter how she tried to talk herself into it, it never quite felt right. Craig was furious, of course. She gave the ring back, and the cottage was snapped up just days later by someone else.

  She used to walk by that house sometimes, when she was in a reflective mood or she’d had an especially difficult day at work. Even now, she could see the way: Up two blocks from the bus stop, and five blocks east. Then she would stand there, in the gathering twilight, and wonder about the people living there. And think about how everything had somehow gone wrong.

  The only holdover from her old life was her connection with Susan and Cassie. She and Susan had been friends for twenty years, starting in college, and the duo became a trio when all of them found themselves at the same Minneapolis public-relations firm right after graduation. Melinda had hoped to celebrate this milestone with them, but their visit had been postponed due to a spring blizzard bearing down on central Minnesota. Her friends here were busy, too. Karen was on call that weekend at the vet clinic, and Angie was busy preparing for spring planting. A quiet dinner with her parents would be the only festivities, at least for now.

  As Melinda started morning chores, she was struck by how normal the day felt. People always talked about these big birthdays as if they were life-changing. Shouldn’t something exciting happen?

  But then, it already had. And Melinda decided that, for the time being, she was done with surprises.

  Frank had been unusually quiet the past few mornings at the store, gulping his coffee and hurrying across the street to hide behind the stacks of documents and ledgers waiting for him in a back room at City Hall. Jerry had been the opposite, laughing and cracking jokes nearly as fast as Auggie, but he, too, was quick to run for the door once the clock struck eight.

  It pained Melinda to notice how Frank and Jerry no longer spoke directly to each other. She was glad Frank hadn’t given up his volunteer gig with the city, at least.

  “Believe it or not, he’s more interested in it than ever,” Miriam told Bill and Melinda yesterday when no one else was in Prosper Hardware. “I think he hopes to find something that disproves what he’s proven, if you know what I mean. Jerry won’t speak to Frank, but I’ll give him this, he’s not talking to anyone else about it, either. And that nonsense about the brick pavers? Even Auggie’s taking it for the truth, at least for now.”

  “That buys us, what, a few days?” Bill had said with a smirk. “He’ll sniff it out, sooner or later. In the meantime, he’s telling everyone it’s a waste of money, and that Frank can’t do that kind of project without the city’s approval.”

  Miriam had started to run the dust cloth across the showcase in tight, soothing circles, as if she could somehow wipe their problems away. “Well, we’ve got our attorney involved. Now we just wait to see what the landowners next door have to say. But I don’t want you two to worry. This will get sorted out eventually.”

  Melinda knew her aunt was right. But while it was business as usual at Prosper Hardware, there was a lingering uneasiness in the air, even after Frank and Jerry left each morning. She hoped the customers couldn’t sense it, but she certainly could. For her entire life, no matter where she lived or what she was doing, Prosper Hardware had always been a cornerstone of her family.

  She could remember only one other time when that stability was threatened. It was during the 1980s, at the height of the farm crisis that darkened many windows along Prosper’s Main Street.

  The Shraders had gathered for Sunday dinner at Grandma and Grandpa’s house on Oak Street, and talk had turned to the financial hardships faced by so many farmers and businesses. Grandpa Shrader, a kind but stoic man, had suddenly started to cry. Melinda was only five at the time, but could feel his fear and heartbreak from across the table.

  The hard times passed, but Grandpa never forgot them. He insisted on coming into the store every day until he was nearly ninety, until his heart forced him to stop. Frank and Miriam had taken over the business by then, and sometimes it drove Frank crazy to have Grandpa puttering around with a broom in his hand, but everyone understood: The Shraders had nearly lost their legacy, and Grandpa had to see for himself that everything was running smoothly.

  Melinda reflected on this as she drove into town that morning. Grandpa had a right to be concerned about the family business, of course, but all that worry had been for nothing. She wanted to think she was getting wiser, as well as older, as she entered this new decade. Could she find the courage to stay in the moment, not let the past throw a shadow over today?

  Patches of frost were still visible on the brown grass bordering the gravel parking lot behind Prosper Hardware, but the sun was already gaining strength. It was going to be a lovely day, if she let it be. And there was so much to look forward to. In just a week, the farm would be hers for good. She had her job, her friends and family, her dear animals. Really, if she could be honest with herself, she had everything she needed.

  And there would be a cup of Auggie’s stiff brew to get the gears turning. She’d spotted his truck along the curb, and that comforting aroma greeted her as she came in the back door. But there was a surprise waiting for her up front. There was Auggie, humming to some tune only he knew, with the broom in his hand. The loose dirt had already been shaken out of the rubber mat just inside the door, and he only paused long enough to adjust his glasses as he pushed the dried mud blobs into a neat pile.

  “There’s the birthday girl! Thought I’d do a little housecleaning before you showed up. It’s been years since I’ve swept this floor.” He reached for the dust pan. “You know, that was my main job here on those long-ago days after school. Your grandpa made sure I kept these oak floors cleaned and shined, when I wasn’t stocking shelves.”

  Melinda was touched, both by Auggie’s kindness and the maybe-coincidence of his birthday gift to her. She’d just been thinking about Grandpa …

  “It’s the best gift ever.” She removed her jacket and reached for a mug. “And there’s another stack of returns there, under the counter, if you’re so inclined.”

  Auggie snorted. “Gee, I think it’ll take me most of the morning to get this floor tidy. I just hate returns. I’m alwa
ys glad when Dan gets them done down at the co-op, so I don’t have to. Even there, I prefer to run the broom around. However, some of the stuff that’s tracked into the co-op’s a little more, uh, fragrant than what shows up here.”

  A familiar car appeared out front, then cautiously turned into one of the angled spaces along the curb. George eased out of the driver’s seat and shuffled over to reach for something in the back.

  “Looks like he’s got his hands full.” Auggie reached for his coat. “Old folks like George gotta be careful this time of year, it could still be a little slick.”

  Melinda tried to hide her laughter. Auggie was in his early sixties, not exactly someone counted among the young. But then, George was eighty-two. “I guess age is in the eye of the beholder.”

  Doc came in soon after, then Jerry and Uncle Frank. George had placed his canister on the sideboard but refused to open it until all the regulars had arrived. The guys sang the birthday song, and hooted and clapped.

  Then George frowned. “Oh, these containers.” He fumbled with the lid. “Can’t seem to get the corner to tip up.”

  Melinda reached over to help. Inside was an apple-cinnamon coffee cake smothered in frosting. “George, this looks delicious!” She had sort-of hoped the guys wouldn’t make a fuss about her birthday, but kind-of hoped they would.

  “Mary made it, of course, I’m just the delivery guy. But it’s the thought that counts, right? I’m just returning the favor. You brought treats for my birthday, remember?”

  “I sure do.” She gave George a hug. “That was the first time I’d made strawberry-rhubarb jam and I needed some taste testers. If you like, I’ll bring more jam and biscuits in this summer when you turn eighty-three.”

  George beamed but shook his head. “Good gracious, am I getting up there. But then, they say eighty is the new fifty.”

  Doc started to laugh and nearly choked on his coffee cake. “I think the saying is more like ‘forty is the new thirty’ or something like that. You might be stretching things just a bit.”

  George shrugged. “I say, you’re as young as you feel. So my age varies day to day, from this decade to that one. But you know what? I’m just glad to be here.”

  “Me, too.” Melinda raised her coffee mug in salute to her friends. “And thanks, guys, for making my day special. I’m having dinner at my parents’ tonight, but that’s about it. No more late nights for me.” A nice meal, a snuggle with Hobo and the kittens, a round of decongestants, and she’d be ready for an early lights-out.

  “What about Karen?” Auggie looked up from his cake. “Aren’t you girls going to paint the town tonight?”

  That brought a round of laughter, even from Frank and Jerry. The Watering Hole served alcohol, of course, but it still closed at eleven. Even on the weekends.

  “Karen’s on surgical duty tomorrow.” Doc glanced up from his phone. “She needs to be at the clinic by six-thirty. Sorry, Melinda, if that ruins your plans.”

  “No, not at all. We’re getting together this weekend. Lunch in Mason City, maybe some shopping. Really, I don’t need a big party or anything.”

  Frank’s birthday greetings were warm and genuine, but he still hurried to gulp down his cake and coffee and reach for his coat. “Better get over to City Hall, I guess. Lots to do.”

  Melinda saw Jerry flinch as Frank hustled out the door. Auggie rolled his eyes.

  “Well, I can’t imagine all that stuff is very interesting. I would think anything really important would have been pulled out and preserved long ago.”

  “You never know,” Doc mused. “Maybe Frank will find something good, some artifact that speaks so strongly of the town’s history that even you, Auggie, will find it fascinating.”

  Melinda got out of her chair so quickly that she nearly ran over Bill, who was just coming in from the back. It was time to re-direct the conversation. “Well, I’d better get the store ready to open. So, Doc, do you have many farm calls today? What’s the baby count so far this week?”

  “They’re popping up all over. Or should I say, popping out.” Doc stretched out his legs and rubbed the graying stubble on his chin. “I’ve had three calves in the past two days, and too many sheep and goat deliveries to count. Of course, we only get called when things get difficult. Karen had two sets of triplet lambs last night, at two different farms.”

  Bill reached into his coat pocket and handed Melinda a small brown paper sack. “By the way, I got you a card. Well, actually, my wife picked it out, over in Swanton. Seeing as we don’t sell stuff like that here.” He smirked. “I should have requested one with large print. You know, for old people.”

  “Thanks, Bill. Your day will come, in four short years. But you know, I’ve been thinking about that, actually. What else could Prosper Hardware offer that people can’t buy in this town?”

  Auggie pointed out the window. “There used to be a drugstore, right over there on the corner, down from City Hall. Closed about twenty years ago. They had a soda fountain, too, way back when. I loved hanging out there as a kid. See,” he turned to Doc, “don’t say I don’t care about history.”

  The morning passed quickly, as the store was again packed with customers. Miriam said March and April were Prosper Hardware’s busiest times of the year, except for the holiday season. Melinda had just completed three purchases in quick succession when the store’s phone rang. It was Nancy.

  “Happy birthday!” she trilled. “Hey, I got a new shipment of books in yesterday, including that one you’ve been waiting on. Can you swing by around eleven-thirty or so? I’ve got an errand to run over my lunch hour today, sorry.”

  “Perfect timing! I’ve almost finished the book club one, so I’m ready to start something new.” Melinda and Nancy had organized a new readers’ group at the library, and its first meeting was set for Tuesday night. Nancy had ordered eight extra copies of the title, and seven had been checked out, so they hoped the club would be a success.

  Bill came up from the woodshop to watch the register while Melinda walked across the street. The library was empty, but that wasn’t surprising for this time of day. Nancy wasn’t at the antique circulation desk, so Melinda popped through the cased opening into City Hall. It was also quiet.

  “Hey, Nancy!”

  “I’m in here, just warming up my lunch,” came the reply from the kitchen, which was in the back of the long, narrow building.

  Melinda turned past Jerry’s mayoral desk, stacked with piles of papers, and went through a door whose supporting wall was obviously added during one of the old building’s many renovations. City Hall was like a maze and, as Melinda passed through the spartan space that served at the city council’s chambers, the mouthwatering aroma of pizza drew her toward the kitchen. She was instantly jealous of Nancy’s leftovers. All she had time to pack that morning was a cold sandwich. At least her dad, who loved to cook, had promised roasted chicken with all the trimmings for dinner.

  “Surprise!”

  The small kitchen was crowded with familiar faces. Her mom and dad were there. And Frank and Miriam, and every one of the coffee-group guys. Karen was pulling a bubbling pizza out of the kitchen’s tired range, and moving a second pie to the top rack.

  Esther’s hands were full of balloons. Angie Hensley was there, too; she and her husband, Nathan, lived not far from Melinda. Next to her were Mabel and Ed Bauer, retired farmers who were Melinda’s closest neighbors.

  Diane wrapped her daughter in a hug. “We had to do something special for your special day! Happy birthday, honey.”

  “Emma and Allison made you cards.” Angie handed the folded sheets of pink paper to Melinda, who was so touched by the girls’ efforts that she nearly cried. Allison’s had a very realistic drawing of Hobo on the front, and little Emma’s showed one brown-crayoned blob with triangle ears, and another fuzzy face colored orange and black. “That’s Hazel and Grace, just so you know.”

  “Oh, Angie, they’re wonderful. Tell the girls they should come over to see the
kittens. I can’t believe you all did this for me. And look at all this food!”

  The metal table was covered with a festive cloth and topped with an array of dishes, including a large bowl of greens, a fruit plate and a pasta salad. A chocolate-frosted cake waited on the far end.

  “We decided to forget about the candles,” Auggie said with a smirk. “Didn’t want to burn City Hall to the ground. Especially since it’s an historic building, you know.”

  “Seems like someone I know has his own birthday coming up in a few months.” She pointed at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Aunt Miriam stepped forward with a small, gaily wrapped package in her arms. There was a mischievous look in her eyes that made Melinda really curious about what was in the box. “I wasn’t sure when it would be delivered. And wouldn’t you know, it showed up just in time. Go ahead, open it!”

  Down in the box, under layers of crumpled tissue paper, Melinda felt an odd shape. She pulled it out, then gasped.

  “Oh, wow! Look at this!”

  It was a dark-green twill cap, the same rich color as the awning that stretched across the front of their family’s store. Embroidered on the hat’s front, in crisp white thread, was “Prosper Hardware Est. 1894” in a vintage font. Melinda instantly recognized the logo, as it was the one she designed for the knit caps handed out at the holiday open house.

  “The stocking hats went over so well,” Frank chimed in, “we decided to order something similar that was more in season. There’s a whole box at our house. We wanted to surprise you, so you get the first one.”

  Melinda adjusted the hat’s back band and put it on, then turned side to side for everyone to see.

  “Those are sharp,” Doc said. “What do I have to do to get one of those?”

  Melinda looked at Frank and Miriam.

  “It’s up to you, marketing coordinator lady,” Frank grinned.

  “Well, based on Doc’s eagerness, maybe we could sell these, not give them away.” The gears were already turning in her mind. “Not too much, of course, but enough to cover production and bring in some extra money for … projects around the store.”