I've been wishing to discuss
with you."
"Yes?"
"I know you teach science-biology-at the
school but ..."
"Yes?"
"All those chemicals and, well, animals to be
dissected ..."
"Yes?"
"And you are careful to buckle your seatbelt
when you drive, aren't you?"
"Yes." What on earth was Miss Tipplemouse
trying to say?
"Then there's the matter of looking both ways
at corners before crossing. Safety, I mean."
Stella nodded as she handed Miss Tipplemouse
her tea, hoping she'd get a clue to the topic of
discussion.
"Working at the library, I do have young people
come in and ask for books on the subject."
"On the subject?"
"One can't be too cautious these days. For instance, I assume you use gloves at school?"
"Ah, gloves?"
"Yes, dear. When handling chemicals and
such."
Stella was totally lost. She opened her mouth to
try to clarify, but Miss Tipplemouse placed the
shopping bag she'd been clutching onto the table
in front of Stella.
"My, how I do run on, but I did promise the
members of TROUBLE that I'd speak to you. I'm
so glad we've had this conversation." Miss Tipplemouse arose. "You stay right where you are. I
know my way to the door."
"Thank you," Stella called, but Miss Tipplemouse had already left. That had been one of the
most confusing conversations she'd ever had, even
with Miss Tipplemouse.
Pulling the rubber band from her hair, Stella
shook her head. As she stood, her gaze landed on
the bag Miss Tipplemouse had left. Maybe that would provide a clue to whatever she'd been trying to tell her.
She opened it and pulled out a book. Of course.
The Birds and the Bees: Worry-Free Dating and
Marriage in the 21st Century.
At first she didn't connect what Miss Tipplemouse had been hinting with the book. Then it
dawned on her what she'd meant. Safety. She obviously believed Stella needed a tried and true
method for safely getting hitched. Stella didn't
even want to think about Quin, yet the whole town
had decided they were destined for marriage.
If only Quin didn't confuse her, leave her aching for his touch. Now everyone in town evidently
knew how she felt and it probably meant Quin did
too. That wouldn't do, especially since she had
absolutely no intention of acting on those feelings.
She'd had enough of broken hearts.
"I visited Stella this morning," said Miss Tipplemouse with a beaming smile, although no one
could see it thanks to an overabundance of sofa
pillows nearly blocking her from view. "Mission
accomplished. I delivered the book to her."
In Debby Gregory's overcrowded front room,
each of the other women seemed to freeze in time
for a moment as their heads all swivelled to gaze
at Miss Tipplemouse.
It was a peculiar assembly, with Troublemakers scattered about a room filled to overflowing with
anything and everything remotely resembling Native American decor. A bleached cow skull hung
above the corner fireplace mantle, dream catchers
covered each of the four windows, while above
the windowsills, cloth resembling burlap draped
down over deadwood rods. Running down the left
side of the room was a staircase and the doweling
had been decorated with feathers and woven tapestries. In addition to a Southwestern-styled sofa
buried in gayly hued pillows, chairs covered in
bearskin and Naugahyde were crammed into any
available space.
Debby Gregory's great-great aunt, on her
mother's side, had been full-blooded Comanche
and Debby liked everyone to know through her
decorating scheme. Her great-great aunt, on her
mother's side, was probably writhing in the Great
Burial Ground over said decor.
Of course, none of them had believed Irma Tipplemouse would follow through, but there was no
way they'd admit it to each other. They'd privately
supposed she'd be too embarrassed and so had
taken the task on themselves.
Each of them became quite busy and none were
able to meet each other's eyes. Miss Tipplemouse
sighed happily. "It's so romantic."
They had gathered,
with you."
"Yes?"
"I know you teach science-biology-at the
school but ..."
"Yes?"
"All those chemicals and, well, animals to be
dissected ..."
"Yes?"
"And you are careful to buckle your seatbelt
when you drive, aren't you?"
"Yes." What on earth was Miss Tipplemouse
trying to say?
"Then there's the matter of looking both ways
at corners before crossing. Safety, I mean."
Stella nodded as she handed Miss Tipplemouse
her tea, hoping she'd get a clue to the topic of
discussion.
"Working at the library, I do have young people
come in and ask for books on the subject."
"On the subject?"
"One can't be too cautious these days. For instance, I assume you use gloves at school?"
"Ah, gloves?"
"Yes, dear. When handling chemicals and
such."
Stella was totally lost. She opened her mouth to
try to clarify, but Miss Tipplemouse placed the
shopping bag she'd been clutching onto the table
in front of Stella.
"My, how I do run on, but I did promise the
members of TROUBLE that I'd speak to you. I'm
so glad we've had this conversation." Miss Tipplemouse arose. "You stay right where you are. I
know my way to the door."
"Thank you," Stella called, but Miss Tipplemouse had already left. That had been one of the
most confusing conversations she'd ever had, even
with Miss Tipplemouse.
Pulling the rubber band from her hair, Stella
shook her head. As she stood, her gaze landed on
the bag Miss Tipplemouse had left. Maybe that would provide a clue to whatever she'd been trying to tell her.
She opened it and pulled out a book. Of course.
The Birds and the Bees: Worry-Free Dating and
Marriage in the 21st Century.
At first she didn't connect what Miss Tipplemouse had been hinting with the book. Then it
dawned on her what she'd meant. Safety. She obviously believed Stella needed a tried and true
method for safely getting hitched. Stella didn't
even want to think about Quin, yet the whole town
had decided they were destined for marriage.
If only Quin didn't confuse her, leave her aching for his touch. Now everyone in town evidently
knew how she felt and it probably meant Quin did
too. That wouldn't do, especially since she had
absolutely no intention of acting on those feelings.
She'd had enough of broken hearts.
"I visited Stella this morning," said Miss Tipplemouse with a beaming smile, although no one
could see it thanks to an overabundance of sofa
pillows nearly blocking her from view. "Mission
accomplished. I delivered the book to her."
In Debby Gregory's overcrowded front room,
each of the other women seemed to freeze in time
for a moment as their heads all swivelled to gaze
at Miss Tipplemouse.
It was a peculiar assembly, with Troublemakers scattered about a room filled to overflowing with
anything and everything remotely resembling Native American decor. A bleached cow skull hung
above the corner fireplace mantle, dream catchers
covered each of the four windows, while above
the windowsills, cloth resembling burlap draped
down over deadwood rods. Running down the left
side of the room was a staircase and the doweling
had been decorated with feathers and woven tapestries. In addition to a Southwestern-styled sofa
buried in gayly hued pillows, chairs covered in
bearskin and Naugahyde were crammed into any
available space.
Debby Gregory's great-great aunt, on her
mother's side, had been full-blooded Comanche
and Debby liked everyone to know through her
decorating scheme. Her great-great aunt, on her
mother's side, was probably writhing in the Great
Burial Ground over said decor.
Of course, none of them had believed Irma Tipplemouse would follow through, but there was no
way they'd admit it to each other. They'd privately
supposed she'd be too embarrassed and so had
taken the task on themselves.
Each of them became quite busy and none were
able to meet each other's eyes. Miss Tipplemouse
sighed happily. "It's so romantic."
They had gathered,
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