chuckled as she adjusted a large paisley scarf over her bulky shoulders.
Alice smiled. Everyone in town knew that Viola had experienced several brushes with death—hence the name of her bookstore. Well, that and her love of felines. Despite her near death experiences, Viola still managed to keep herself distanced from both God and the chapel.
“So, how many lives do you estimate you’ve got left now, Viola?” asked Alice.
“I’d guess I’m down to about four. Course you never know for sure. I can’t remember every single thing from my childhood. My mother once told me that I did have a severe case of measles as an infant, although I’m not sure if that was life threatening or not. I might be down to three.”
Alice nodded. “Still, the time will eventually come when you’ll need to examine what God has to offer you in the hereafter.”
Viola laughed. “You’re starting to sound more and more like your dad, Alice.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“And that’s just how I meant it.” Viola leaned forward on the counter. “I’ll tell you what, Alice. When I’m ready to hear about God’s plan for my salvation, or whatever itis that you people call it these days, you will be the first one that I call.”
“Sounds like a deal.” Alice glanced around the crowded shop. “Now, tell me, Viola, have you got any new mysteries in?”
Viola scowled. “Oh, Alice, why do you waste your time on such rubbish?”
Alice shrugged. She knew Viola’s strong opinions on popular fiction. “I don’t know, Viola, I just enjoy them.”
Viola shook her head as she led Alice over to the sparse fiction section. She picked up a hardback book and held it in her hand as if it were unclean. “This is by a new British author who I heard about several months ago. I read an article saying that she was gaining interest in the UK. I figured I’d give her a try, although I must say I’m not impressed.”
Alice read the back cover of the first book. “Sounds promising,” she said. “I’ll take it.”
Viola rolled her eyes. “Well, I guess there’s no accounting for taste.”
So Alice purchased her book and bade Viola good-bye, then went back outside. Just as she was crossing Hill Street she happened to notice a man and woman entering the Coffee Shop. She did a double take. It was her sister Louise accompanied by Lloyd Tynan!
Of course
, Alice assured herself,
the two of them are simply discussing the inn
. But then this was a Saturday, and people in Acorn Hill did like to talk—and sighting the mayor with a woman other than Aunt Ethel could easily set tongues to flapping.
Oh dear, I hope Louise knows what she’s doing.
Alice sent up a silent prayer as she hurried toward home. She didn’t like feeling so alarmed over such a seemingly small thing, but she knew better than anyone her own tendency to worry too much about “small things.” Her compulsion to fret was also one of the biggest reasons for Alice’s fervent and active prayer life. She found herself constantly running to God with her worries—both large and small. She reassured herself that she was doing exactly what the Scriptures taught. Besides, as Vera was kind to point out, perhaps it was simply the way God had made her, a natural result of Alice’s very sensitive nature. She just tended to feel things more deeply and intensely than most people. Alice liked to see it in this positive light, but to be perfectly honest, she felt it was both a blessing and a curse.
Right now it troubled her to think that Aunt Ethel might become upset by word of Louise and Lloyd’s being together at the Coffee Shop. Like so many other things in life, Alice felt personally responsible for this too. If she hadn’t encouraged her sisters to develop the inn, or ifshe’d simply minded her own business and kept her mouth shut, then her aunt’s life would be proceeding happily along, and everything would still be the same as before. But then, Alice wondered, was
Alice smiled. Everyone in town knew that Viola had experienced several brushes with death—hence the name of her bookstore. Well, that and her love of felines. Despite her near death experiences, Viola still managed to keep herself distanced from both God and the chapel.
“So, how many lives do you estimate you’ve got left now, Viola?” asked Alice.
“I’d guess I’m down to about four. Course you never know for sure. I can’t remember every single thing from my childhood. My mother once told me that I did have a severe case of measles as an infant, although I’m not sure if that was life threatening or not. I might be down to three.”
Alice nodded. “Still, the time will eventually come when you’ll need to examine what God has to offer you in the hereafter.”
Viola laughed. “You’re starting to sound more and more like your dad, Alice.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“And that’s just how I meant it.” Viola leaned forward on the counter. “I’ll tell you what, Alice. When I’m ready to hear about God’s plan for my salvation, or whatever itis that you people call it these days, you will be the first one that I call.”
“Sounds like a deal.” Alice glanced around the crowded shop. “Now, tell me, Viola, have you got any new mysteries in?”
Viola scowled. “Oh, Alice, why do you waste your time on such rubbish?”
Alice shrugged. She knew Viola’s strong opinions on popular fiction. “I don’t know, Viola, I just enjoy them.”
Viola shook her head as she led Alice over to the sparse fiction section. She picked up a hardback book and held it in her hand as if it were unclean. “This is by a new British author who I heard about several months ago. I read an article saying that she was gaining interest in the UK. I figured I’d give her a try, although I must say I’m not impressed.”
Alice read the back cover of the first book. “Sounds promising,” she said. “I’ll take it.”
Viola rolled her eyes. “Well, I guess there’s no accounting for taste.”
So Alice purchased her book and bade Viola good-bye, then went back outside. Just as she was crossing Hill Street she happened to notice a man and woman entering the Coffee Shop. She did a double take. It was her sister Louise accompanied by Lloyd Tynan!
Of course
, Alice assured herself,
the two of them are simply discussing the inn
. But then this was a Saturday, and people in Acorn Hill did like to talk—and sighting the mayor with a woman other than Aunt Ethel could easily set tongues to flapping.
Oh dear, I hope Louise knows what she’s doing.
Alice sent up a silent prayer as she hurried toward home. She didn’t like feeling so alarmed over such a seemingly small thing, but she knew better than anyone her own tendency to worry too much about “small things.” Her compulsion to fret was also one of the biggest reasons for Alice’s fervent and active prayer life. She found herself constantly running to God with her worries—both large and small. She reassured herself that she was doing exactly what the Scriptures taught. Besides, as Vera was kind to point out, perhaps it was simply the way God had made her, a natural result of Alice’s very sensitive nature. She just tended to feel things more deeply and intensely than most people. Alice liked to see it in this positive light, but to be perfectly honest, she felt it was both a blessing and a curse.
Right now it troubled her to think that Aunt Ethel might become upset by word of Louise and Lloyd’s being together at the Coffee Shop. Like so many other things in life, Alice felt personally responsible for this too. If she hadn’t encouraged her sisters to develop the inn, or ifshe’d simply minded her own business and kept her mouth shut, then her aunt’s life would be proceeding happily along, and everything would still be the same as before. But then, Alice wondered, was
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