Big Lies in a Small Town - Diane Chamberlain Page 0,89

in my right ankle, the one that had been caught in the rungs of the barstool. It was just enough of a twinge to make me yelp.

“What’s wrong?” Oliver asked.

“Caught my ankle in the bar stool when I fell,” I said. “It’s okay, I think.”

“Can you walk? We can head back to the gallery and I’ll give you a ride to Lisa’s.”

I nodded and we started walking. We talked about how the inpainting was going on the mural and the challenge Oliver was having as he wrote the text for it, since Anna Dale’s reasons for adding her oddities to the painting were unknown. I could barely concentrate on the conversation, though. Every time I put my weight on my right foot, I winced, and by the time we reached the corner, I could go no farther.

“Sorry,” I said, coming to a stop. I leaned against a lamppost, balancing on my left foot and right toe. “I don’t think I can make it to the gallery.”

He looked down as if he could see my ankle beneath the leg of my jeans. “Wait here and I’ll get my van.” He touched my bare arm. The softest, quickest of touches, yet it made my knees turn to mush and I held on to the lamppost to keep myself upright. And as I watched him break into a jog as he headed up the dark sidewalk toward the gallery, I felt the slightest twinge of danger. I’d given my heart to one man and look how that had turned out. Right now, I needed a friend more than a lover. I would have to keep that in mind.

Chapter 38

ANNA

February 13–17, 1940

Anna received a letter from the Section very quickly after she sent them the photographs of the cartoon. They seemed to be in as big a rush as she was. Mr. Rowan shared a few complaints about how fat one of her Tea Party ladies was (Miss Myrtle), and the too-slender build of her lumberman, as well as a few other minor things she could easily fix to his liking. She immediately set about trimming Miss Myrtle down and beefing Lumberman Frank up on the cartoon until she thought she’d reached perfection.

Along with the letter from Mr. Rowan came Anna’s second payment, which she took immediately to the bank. She loved looking in her little bankbook to see the money she’d earned all on her own. Fortunately, she made it in and out of the bank without bumping into Theresa’s father and bank president Riley Wayman. That had been a relief.

She spent most of the day carefully pricking the holes along the outline of her cartoon drawing with a dressmaker’s wheel she borrowed from Miss Myrtle, while Jesse and Peter watched in fascination until boredom set in and they resumed work on their own paintings. They had each painted twice over the canvases she’d given them, and she’d ordered them a couple more now that she had a little pocket money to spend. They would be able to start fresh once those canvases arrived, and keep the work they liked.

Once she’d finished with the dressmaker’s wheel, the boys helped her tack the cartoon over the canvas. Trying to get it square was a challenge, but the three of them finally succeeded. A few townspeople stopped by to see how things were coming along, including Mayor Sykes and Mr. Fiering from the cotton mill. Anna was excited and nervous; tomorrow she would pounce the design directly onto the canvas, and once that was done, she’d finally start painting. She felt as though she’d been in Edenton for a year rather than two and a half months. She couldn’t wait to see her design come to life.

The following day—and despite the date on the calendar—the weather was springlike and Anna and the boys opened three of the garage doors, the fourth being stuck beyond use. People seemed to have gotten the word and began showing up at the warehouse, parking cars and bicycles on the weedy earth next to the dirt road. They were shy at first, milling around outside the big garage doors, but once Anna welcomed them, they entered in a rush.

Anna had sewn a little cheesecloth bag and filled it with charcoal dust. She held it up in front of the cartoon and explained to her visitors what she was about to do with it. She was giving them a little art lesson, she thought, and she had her guests’ rapt attention.