Sometimes all the little—and big—failures in her life piled up and threatened to smother her.
She realized Tiffany had hung up, and she was just standing there holding her phone. She slipped the phone back into her pocket and picked up the sandpaper block again. Back and forth over the wood in long, soothing strokes. Letting the repetitive motion calm her and push the thoughts of failure far from her mind. She’d make sure this bookcase was perfect so Beverly would be proud of it. And it was going to be used for such a good cause, a town lending library. Maybe it would make her feel like part of the town. Even a little bit. She so longed to feel like she belonged here again.
CHAPTER8
On Saturday, Maxine made sure she was at the town park a bit before eight. There was no way she was going to risk Miss Eleanor’s wrath by being late. She laughed when she saw Dale was already there.
He grinned a welcoming smile as she walked up to him. “I see you’re early, too.”
“Of course. Since Miss Eleanor doesn’t even think I’m capable of collecting money for the bake sale, I thought I’d start out by showing how responsible I am with being on time.” Her lips twitched into a conspiring smile.
Eleanor walked up to them just then and Maxine guiltily hid her smile, hoping Miss Eleanor hadn’t heard her remark.
“There you are. Dale, the tables are at city hall. In the storage room. You need to use your van to go pick them up and bring them over. We need to get a few of the tables put up quickly. People will start delivering items for the bake sale at nine. We have to have those tables up by then.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Eleanor eyed him. “What are you waiting for?”
He sent a wink Maxine’s way as he hurried off to do as he was told.
“Maxine, you’ll set up the baking table. Try to sort the items by what they are. Pies together, cookies together, breads together. You can handle that?” Eleanor tilted her head, eyeing her.
“Yes, I’ve got it.” She hoped she sorted everything up to Eleanor’s standards.
When Dale returned with a load of tables, she wrestled with ones for the bake sale while he set some up across the park for the silent auction. She struggled with the last table and thought she had the legs firmly in place, but it collapsed right when Eleanor walked up to her.
“Do I need to make sure you know how to set up the tables?” Eleanor frowned. “We can’t have them falling over and all the baked goods ruined.”
“No, I’ve got it.” Her cheeks heated up from embarrassment. She worked on the leg again under Eleanor’s watchful eye, this time assuring it was locked into place. She pushed against the table, showing Eleanor that it was all set up and sturdy this time.
Eleanor bobbed her head once, still frowning, and hurried away.
People started to come and deliver items for the sale. Beverly arrived with pots of coffee and hot chocolate, and she set up near the bake sale. She was donating all the profits to the fundraiser.
Soon, the park filled with people milling around. Miss Eleanor watched over the whole proceedings like a hawk. By the end of the day, they’d exceeded their fundraising goal.
Eleanor stood by the chalkboard easel and wrote the final tally. The crowd clapped as she turned around, and a rare smile crossed her features. “Thank all of you for making this a successful fundraiser.”
The amount they raised surprised Maxine and yet it didn’t. The town had always rallied around a good cause.
As the people wandered away, Maxine and Dale began taking down the tables. Eleanor approached them. “Thank you, both of you, for your help.”
Maxine tried to hide her surprise at the thanks. “You’re more than welcome. It went to a good cause.”
“Now, Dale. I hear you’re handy with a hammer and saw. Now that we have the funds, I’m hoping to do some needed repairs on the gazebo. Then it will need a fresh coat of paint. You’ll volunteer to do that.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“Yes, ma’am. I’d be glad to.”
Eleanor nodded as if it never occurred to her that he wouldn’t.
Beverly walked up to them. “Dale, glad I caught you. I’ve been meaning to show you something. I found a rolled-up painting hidden in the built-in bookcase in my office. Isn’t that strange?”
Eleanor choked a bit, her eyes widening before a non-committal look settled back on her features.
“You okay?” Maxine asked.
“Of course.” She nodded, dismissing Maxine’s concern.
