told me that he was still w aiting to use his first bullet.
My mother had been wonderful, and after she was gone there was a big hole in my life. That was where my Aunt Maggie stepped in. She had been thirteen years old when my father was born, so he kind of treated her like his aunt, as well. Aunt Maggie was there to make my Halloween costumes and prom dresses. She was also there to help me through all the clumsy years of growing into a woman.
After Danny was born, my aunt and uncle were advised by the doctors not to have any more children. Now we know the chances of having two children with Down Syndrome are almost nonexistent, but she and Uncle Jeeter heeded the warning. So Aunt Maggie and I found each other. I had a mother I wasn’t supposed to have, and she had the little girl she hadn’t been allowed to have. My father almost never complained about her presence, except for the time she forbade me to ride in the patrol car when he arrested people. Growing up a cop’s daughter introduced me to a world other children only saw on television. I knew I was a little different when I announced to my third-grade teacher that I was putting an APB out when the class hamster went missing.
Now I was presented with another mystery. This time I might be able to find out where Barry was, and on top of that, I might be able to help Maggie. Breaking into Canfield’s office gleaned more information than I had dreamed of. I tried remembering the names on the credit cards. Maybe I could try to contact some of these ladies and find out why they had given their credit cards to him. It was especially intriguing that all the cards belonged to women. Some men might have only women for friends, but Canfield didn’t strike me as the type. I didn’t even find him physically attractive. In his forties, he did have a decent head of black hair, but he had a round face with a barrel chest and always seemed to be mopping his brow with a handkerchi ef. Not exactly a chick magnet.
If I could ever get Maureen Boyle to quit condemning me and my family, I was sure she could provide some answers. She had to have been out at that hospital because of some connection to Canfield.
I decided to deliver my four dozen cookies personally to Benny at the barbecue. I pulled up, notic ing a couple of foolhardy tourists sitting and sweating in the rocking chairs. Perhaps they were enjoying the Texas heat before returning to colder climates. Benny was stacking plates in a dishpan when I entered, juggling my cookies in plastic containers.
“Let me get those for you,” he said as he put a plate in the stack and then came over to grab a couple of containers.
“My son informed me that he bragged about my cookie baking at the meeting and that I was to deliver them today.”
Benny laughed. “Yes, I do recall hearing something about your ability in the kitchen. We are so grateful to have them, Betsy.” He opened up a plastic lid and sampled one. “Say, these are good. If you ever decide to give up writing and want a job in my kitchen, I think we could work something out.” He smiled as he chewed a pe ppermint chocolate chip cookie.
“I’m glad you stopped by.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m really sorry about what that boy said to Zach at the meeting. How is he doing?”
“He’s all right, I guess. You know, he stil l thinks Barry will come back.”
“Ah, yes. Hope springs eternal when you’re that age. It’s hard to learn that sometimes things just aren’t going to go your way, no matter how angry or how disgusted you may get.” I wondered if we were still talking about Zachary. He continued. “I suppose you heard that I would like to put Zach together with the new b oy, Tyler, as a camping buddy.”
“I heard. Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”
“I know, I know, but sometimes the best way to get two kids to get along is to make them work as a team. They’ll have to sort out their differences just trying to get that tent
My mother had been wonderful, and after she was gone there was a big hole in my life. That was where my Aunt Maggie stepped in. She had been thirteen years old when my father was born, so he kind of treated her like his aunt, as well. Aunt Maggie was there to make my Halloween costumes and prom dresses. She was also there to help me through all the clumsy years of growing into a woman.
After Danny was born, my aunt and uncle were advised by the doctors not to have any more children. Now we know the chances of having two children with Down Syndrome are almost nonexistent, but she and Uncle Jeeter heeded the warning. So Aunt Maggie and I found each other. I had a mother I wasn’t supposed to have, and she had the little girl she hadn’t been allowed to have. My father almost never complained about her presence, except for the time she forbade me to ride in the patrol car when he arrested people. Growing up a cop’s daughter introduced me to a world other children only saw on television. I knew I was a little different when I announced to my third-grade teacher that I was putting an APB out when the class hamster went missing.
Now I was presented with another mystery. This time I might be able to find out where Barry was, and on top of that, I might be able to help Maggie. Breaking into Canfield’s office gleaned more information than I had dreamed of. I tried remembering the names on the credit cards. Maybe I could try to contact some of these ladies and find out why they had given their credit cards to him. It was especially intriguing that all the cards belonged to women. Some men might have only women for friends, but Canfield didn’t strike me as the type. I didn’t even find him physically attractive. In his forties, he did have a decent head of black hair, but he had a round face with a barrel chest and always seemed to be mopping his brow with a handkerchi ef. Not exactly a chick magnet.
If I could ever get Maureen Boyle to quit condemning me and my family, I was sure she could provide some answers. She had to have been out at that hospital because of some connection to Canfield.
I decided to deliver my four dozen cookies personally to Benny at the barbecue. I pulled up, notic ing a couple of foolhardy tourists sitting and sweating in the rocking chairs. Perhaps they were enjoying the Texas heat before returning to colder climates. Benny was stacking plates in a dishpan when I entered, juggling my cookies in plastic containers.
“Let me get those for you,” he said as he put a plate in the stack and then came over to grab a couple of containers.
“My son informed me that he bragged about my cookie baking at the meeting and that I was to deliver them today.”
Benny laughed. “Yes, I do recall hearing something about your ability in the kitchen. We are so grateful to have them, Betsy.” He opened up a plastic lid and sampled one. “Say, these are good. If you ever decide to give up writing and want a job in my kitchen, I think we could work something out.” He smiled as he chewed a pe ppermint chocolate chip cookie.
“I’m glad you stopped by.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m really sorry about what that boy said to Zach at the meeting. How is he doing?”
“He’s all right, I guess. You know, he stil l thinks Barry will come back.”
“Ah, yes. Hope springs eternal when you’re that age. It’s hard to learn that sometimes things just aren’t going to go your way, no matter how angry or how disgusted you may get.” I wondered if we were still talking about Zachary. He continued. “I suppose you heard that I would like to put Zach together with the new b oy, Tyler, as a camping buddy.”
“I heard. Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”
“I know, I know, but sometimes the best way to get two kids to get along is to make them work as a team. They’ll have to sort out their differences just trying to get that tent
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