Sunflower Serenade Read online

  “Speaking of gifts.” Rosemary turned to a large camera bag sitting by the back door of the garage. “I put this out here so I wouldn’t forget.” Rosemary opened the bag, and Charlotte noticed a camera. It was old, but she could tell it had been well cared for.

  “A camera?”‘ A gasp escaped Emily’s lips.

  “Yes, it belonged to Jerome. He just loved it. We have so many photos he took of his nieces and nephews on our vacations. There are some cute ones of your kids, Charlotte—Bill, Pete … Denise.” Rosemary’s voice grew wobbly.

  “Are you sure you want to get rid of it?” Charlotte asked. “I know it means a lot to you.”

  “Does it even work?” Emily asked, somewhat untactfully.

  “Yes it does, Emily.” Rosemary assured her. “I know you were saving for a digital camera, but this old-fashioned film kind takes really great photos.”

  Emily took the camera from the case and skeptically turned it over in her hands.

  “I know it looks complicated, but I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it,” Rosemary encouraged.

  “Are you sure?” Charlotte repeated.

  “I’m not using it, Charlotte. And it seems right that it should stay in the family. Besides, Emily has an artistic eye. I noticed her taking photos with her cell phone the other day at the shop. I was going to save it until Christmas, but I thought she could use it this week—you know how fun and colorful the fair is. And busy! There will be plenty of things, people, and animals to take photos of.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Rosemary. I guess I can give it a try.” Emily returned the camera to its case and then wrapped her arms around her great-aunt’s shoulders.

  “You’re welcome, dear. There’s a manual inside to tell you how everything works. And I’m sure Pete can help too. If I remember correctly, he used to enter some of his pictures in the fair.”

  Emily nodded and then hurried outside to show Christopher her camera.

  Charlotte wished she had as much energy and zeal. “Well, off to make some more pies. You can bet this time I won’t be too lazy to transport them in the proper holder. At least if I get them baked today I can scratch that project off the list.”

  Rosemary squeezed Charlotte’s shoulder. “Remember, Char, what needs to get done will. And the rest … well, it’s not that important.”

  “I’ll try to remember that.” She offered Rosemary a slight smile. “Really, I will.”

  TOBY’S EXCITED BARKING and wagging tail greeted Charlotte and the kids as she parked the car next to the farmhouse. Bob and Pete were leaning under the opened hood of Bob’s truck, working on the engine.

  Charlotte let out another low sigh as she opened the back door of her car and looked at the mess of pies. So much work put to waste. Guilt pressed like bricks on her shoulder blades. And what a waste of food.

  As Charlotte picked up one of the strawberry pies, some of the filling got on her finger. She licked it off and figured maybe she’d even take time for a piece. It was good. Real good.

  She called out to the guys. “Hey, do you two think you can give me a hand for a minute?”

  Bob looked up, slightly irritated, but his face softened when he noticed the smashed pie in Charlotte’s hands.

  She held it up higher for him to get a good look. “I need help carrying these in.”

  “Can we have a piece when we’re done?” Bob asked.

  Hearing that, Pete glanced over too. “Is that strawberry?” He dropped his wrench in the top of the large red toolbox and wiped his hands on his jeans as he strode over. His eyes twinkled as he took it from Charlotte’s hands.

  “Yes, it’s strawberry. And yes, you can have a piece when you’re done helping me.”

  Hearing that, Bob wiped his brow with a blue handkerchief, and then sidled up to Charlotte and Pete. “What happened to it? It looks like someone’s already taken a big fork to it.”

  “Yeah, what happened?” Pete rubbed his brow. “Weren’t you using those pie carriers I made you?” Pete stuck his dirty finger into the pie and grabbed a big piece of crust. “Actually, maybe I’m glad you didn’t use it.”

  Bob mumbled something under his breath and shook his head as he grabbed two pies.

  “What a mess,” he grumbled loud enough for them to hear.

  “I know. I was taking my pies to Rosemary’s and a lamb ran in front of my car. I slammed on the brakes—”

  “And the pies went flying,” Pete chuckled. “Sorry Mom. I know it’s not funny, really it’s not, especially since you know better than to transport them like that. But, boy, they’re tasty. I think I’ll have pie for lunch.” He picked up another smashed piece and hurried to the house quickly, as if knowing his words were getting him into more trouble by the minute.

  Bob started to the house, and Charlotte followed.

  “Guess I know what I’ll be doing tonight, replacing those pies—after we get home from this afternoon’s fair board meeting, of course.”

  “Do you still have enough ingredients left?” Bob stomped up the porch steps, adding under his breath, “You’ve already been to the store twice this week, Charlotte.”

  “I think I do, actually, but I’ll have to check.”

  Bob didn’t answer, but Charlotte noticed his teeth clenching and his jaw tightening. More than one time over the past week he’d complained about how expensive everything was, and about their dwindling savings account.

  Okay, Lord, here we go again. More unanticipated expenses, but I know you own the cattle on a thousand hills. I know you can provide.

  “Grandma, may I have a piece?” Emily gingerly set the camera bag on the dining room table and watched as they set the damaged pies on the counter.

  “Sure, why not. I’m not anticipating time to make much of a lunch—or a big dinner tonight for that matter— so eat up.” Charlotte waved a hand over the pies.

  Emily’s eyes widened as she scanned the varieties. “Mmm, this peach one looks good.” She took a plate from the cupboard and cut herself a large, half-smashed piece.

  “Mmm,” she said, taking a bite. Her lips curled upward in pleasure. Seeing her response, Pete cut himself a piece of the same one, sliding it onto a chipped yellow plate.

  “So, Em, are you going to bake something for the fair booth? Or maybe something to enter into the baking competition?” Pete elbowed her in the ribs.

  “Are you kidding? I had enough baking last Thanksgiving.”

  “You mean you don’t have anything to enter? Grandma let you get away with that?” Pete shook his head. “In my day, that wasn’t allowed. For as long as I can remember, the weeks getting ready for the fair meant seeing how many entries I could come up with. In fact, one year, when I was seven, I remember staying up after midnight to work on a Lego project. I think I made a Noah’s ark. That was my first entry ever.”

  “Yes, I think you’re right. It was a large rectangle with Lego animals.” Bob smiled.

  “Yes, and remember how Pete was the only one who could figure out what they all were?” Charlotte leaned against the counter. “But it was a great first attempt and worthy of a blue ribbon in your age division. In fact, I still have your ribbon for that, and the one you got for the waxed-paper crayon drawing.”

  In her mind’s eye Charlotte pictured the stocky little boy Pete used to be with light hair and large, round eyes. Eyes similar to Denise’s and Emily’s.

  “Well, I was going to enter some new clothes I’ve been thinking of, but I didn’t get them finished in time. When I was at Fabrics and Fun I completely forgot to get more fabric. Thread and buttons don’t do any good without something to sew them on. Of course, maybe I can enter some photographs with the camera Aunt Rosemary gave me.”

  “She gave you a camera?” Bob glanced toward Charlotte for confirmation.

  “Yes, Jerome’s old camera. Your sister thinks Emily has an artistic eye, and she wants to encourage it.”

  “That was nice of her.” Bob cut a piece of pie, nodding his head. “My sister always did
enjoy doing something special for our kids and grandkids.”

  Emily finished her pie and then washed her hands, and pulled a roll of film out of the bag. “Wow, I don’t even know how to load this. Mom had a digital camera, but she was afraid I’d break it. I’ve pretty much only taken photos with my phone.”

  “I can help.” Pete patted his belly, signaling he’d had enough pie. “With my stomach filled up, I think my body has pretty much decided it’s ready for a break from farmwork. I can show you how to load the film, and then we can head outside and snap some shots.”

  “Okay!” Emily said brightly.

  Pete took the camera from the bag. Bob cut another thin piece of pie, and Charlotte waved a finger in his direction, which he promptly ignored.

  Pete lifted the camera, looked through the viewfinder, and pretended to take a photo of Emily’s face. Emily grinned, and then stuck out her tongue.

  “You know, I like your idea of entering a photo at the fair. I can give you a few hints about the competition,” he said.

  Emily nodded. “Okay. What do they look for to get a blue ribbon?”

  Pete opened the back of the camera and loaded the film. “They look for everything from interesting subject matter to focus and composition.”

  He set the camera on the table. “Oh, and they also look out for something called the law of thirds, which is just a fancy way of saying that things look more proportional when they’re balanced into thirds.”

  “Huh? Okay, Uncle Pete, can you say that whole thing in English now?”

  “Yeah, Pete, English please,” Charlotte winked at him.

  Pete’s face scrunched and his eyes narrowed as if he were mimicking a professor giving a lecture. “That just means moving your center of focus off to one side, or up and down. For example, if you’re taking a picture of a flower, don’t set the flower right in the middle.”

  “Okay,” Emily nodded. “But I still don’t understand the thirds thing.”

  “Okay, how about this …” Pete glanced around the room. “Think of the picture you’re taking as a window divided into panes.” He pointed to the kitchen window. “See the two horizontal lines dividing the window into thirds, and the two vertical lines dividing it into thirds the other way? The focal point of the picture should be along one of those lines or where those lines intersect. Centering an object doesn’t usually make the most interesting photograph.”

  Emily stared out the kitchen window. She scooted from one side to another, as if adjusting the view of the barn through the window pane. “Yeah, okay, that makes sense now. I can see it. Cool!”

  Bob eyed the camera. “Are you sure Emily should enter this year? With digital cameras people can take two hundred shots to get a good one. Two hundred shots on that thing will cost a lot of money for film and developing.”

  “Well, Aunt Rosemary already bought me some film, and I have some money saved up I could use for developing.”

  “It’s worth a try.” Charlotte commented. “Personally, I think Emily will do great. We’ve seen from her sewing that she has an eye for detail and composition. Besides, one thing Aunt Rosemary said is that she hated the thought of the camera not being used. I think she’ll be excited to hear that Emily took some shots with the intention of entering some into the fair.”

  Pete handed the camera to Emily. She held it up to her face and looked through the viewfinder. “Ready, Uncle Pete?”

  “Sure thing.”

  They headed out to the horse corral, and Charlotte watched from the window as Emily shot photos of the horses with Pete directing her. Charlotte knew she needed to check the pantry to see if she had enough flour and shortening to make six more pies. If she needed something she’d have to get it after the fair board meeting.

  Charlotte considered calling Hannah to ask if she’d come over and help—baking was always more fun when done with a friend—but then changed her mind. Hannah entered dozens of projects, and she was most likely putting her finishing touches on them even now.

  Charlotte also considered calling Bill and taking him up on his offer to help on the fair board. Last year he’d stepped in and filled their shoes on the board, and he’d offered to do it again if the need ever came up. Charlotte wondered during times like these why they’d ever taken those “shoes” back.

  Charlotte sighed, but she didn’t budge. Her feet ached, her shoulders complained, and her head throbbed.

  “I’ll make a grocery list in a few minutes,” she mumbled to herself. She made her way to the dining room table, and then folded her arms on the table and rested her forehead on her arms. She’d almost drifted off to sleep when the roar of Bob’s truck engine revving outside stirred her.

  “No rest for the weary.” She rose and checked the pantry, thankful she had more flour, shortening, and apples than she thought, which meant she didn’t have to worry about stopping by the grocery store on the way home. She hated the thought of going into town twice in one day, but today she had no choice.

  Charlotte carried a basket of apples to the sink and rinsed them off, placing them on a dishtowel on the counter. Out the window she noticed Pete and Emily had moved to the garden to photograph the sunflowers. Emily’s laughter carried on the wind as she focused the camera and snapped. Pete nodded and pointed, and Charlotte wished she could be out there with them, enjoying the late afternoon warmth and appreciating the scent of the late summer flowers on the breeze. But she had fifteen minutes to get cleaned up before they needed to head back to town for the meeting.

  Tomorrow’s another day. Tomorrow I’ll have time to relax, rest, and enjoy the end of summer.

  AS THEY DROVE BACK into town that afternoon, Emily fingered the roll of film in her hand as if it were a priceless gem. “Grandma, so what do I do when I print the photos? Do I put them in a photo album? And what does it mean to enter something in the fair?”

  Charlotte glanced over at her granddaughter, trying to get her thoughts off Bob, who was home taking a “short nap” before joining her at the fair board meeting. She doubted his nap would be short. Her guess was that he was feeling sluggish after eating two pieces of pie.

  She released the breath she’d been holding and loosened her grip on the steering wheel, attempting to forget her frustration over the fact that on top of not caring for himself properly, Bob continued to get on her case about the cost of food. Yet he felt perfectly okay driving his own truck to town for the board meeting and using up extra fuel when he could have ridden with her if he’d just been willing to go in a few minutes early so Emily could drop off the film. He claimed he needed to take the truck so he could check the engine after they’d been working on it, but Charlotte knew he just wanted a few more zzz’s.

  “Oh, to enter things into the fair … no, you don’t use albums. You’ll have to enlarge those photos and frame them.” Charlotte felt the hot, Nebraska sun beating down on her, and she turned up the air conditioning, wishing it worked better.

  “So does the photo place do the enlargements? And I’m not sure what to do about frames …” Emily let her voice trail off, and Charlotte could see the eagerness that her granddaughter had felt earlier was already fading.

  “Well, they have a machine that enlarges the photos. And as for a frame, I’m sure there are some in the attic you can use. But we don’t have to worry about that now.”

  “So what does it mean when you enter something? Do I have to walk around with the framed pictures just like kids walk around with lambs?”

  Charlotte’s lip curled into a smile, and she chided herself for not giving Emily more information sooner. “No, it doesn’t quite work like that. You see, there are many different ways items are entered, and different categories. Kids that are in 4-H compete with each other. And everyone else enters something called ‘open class.’ Starting Sunday, the fair starts accepting different entries.”

  “On Sunday? But I thought the fair didn’t open until Tuesday.”

  “Well, the fair itself and the carnival rides op
en on Tuesday, but a lot of things happen before that to get the fair ready. I’m pretty sure Sunday is the day you’ll have to submit your pictures—if you find one you like, that is.”

  “Sunday? I can’t get things ready by Sunday. It’s already Friday!” Emily dropped the canister of film on her lap as if also dropping her resolve to enter.

  “Sure you can. There might be a photo you like in this first batch. Or you can take more photos tonight and we can get them developed tomorrow.”

  Emily nodded, but she still had a look of uncertainty in her gaze.

  “Then, after you enter,” Charlotte continued, hoping to recapture Emily’s zeal, “your pictures will be displayed with the others in the arts and crafts building. Judges will give each winner a ribbon, and then when the gates open those buildings fill up as everyone comes in to check out the entries and winners.”

  “Yeah, well, Uncle Pete says that most of the time people visit those buildings to cool off from the hot sun outside.”

  Charlotte chuckled, “That’s true for some, but I’d dare to say that most people go to support their friends and to see the displays. It’s one of my favorite parts of the fair.”

  “Not mine. My favorite part is going to be Shae Lynne’s concert.”

  “Oh, you know that already, do you—even more than the rides, the food, and hanging out with your friends?”

  “Yes, totally. Are you kidding? She’s one of my favorite singers. I think you’ll really like her too.”

  “I keep telling myself I’m going to have to sit down and listen to her songs sometime. It seems everyone knows about her but me,” Charlotte said.

  “Remind me tomorrow, and I’ll let you listen to my CD. I have it at home.”

  “Tomorrow? Why not tonight?” Charlotte slowed as she neared town, surprised for the second time today how busy the roads had become as everyone arrived early to prepare for the fair.

  Emily sighed. “Because I’m staying at Ashley’s again tonight, remember?”

  “Oh, yes, I remember now. I sort of forgot about that after the lamb-and-pie fiasco. Are you sure you want to stay again? I mean, you can stay home tonight and help your dear ol’ grandma make some pies.” Charlotte winked at Emily.