was an antique. It looked white-gold, with a single solitaire diamond in the middle. It looked perfect for Ava. She didn’t wear much jewelry, but when she did, she had a simple necklace with one round diamond that her father had given her for her sixteenth birthday.
I could still remember my grandmother wearing it. I wasn’t normally sentimental about stuff. I’d gotten rid of nearly all of my belongings when I’d been accepted into the SEALs, and I hadn’t missed any of the stuff I’d donated.
But I was touched that my mother had offered my grandmother’s ring to me.
“Thank you. Ava will appreciate the meaning behind it.” She often commented on the strong ties I had to my family, and how she wanted the same thing for our child.
Both my mom and sister were crying now, so I let them both hug me for as long as they wanted.
On November 30th, the Fall Festival was in full swing.
True to her word, Ava had created a schedule that was easy to read and easy to understand. She'd had it printed copies delivered to every business and every residence. It was posted in the paper as well as on the Facebook page and the town's Twitter feed.
She had run a sign up sheet for events as well. I'd been a little worried about long-term residents becoming resentful of a newcomer stepping in to their tradition. But from what I could tell everyone was so glad not to have overlapping events that no one grumbled.
In the past, the chili cook-off and the bread making contest might be at the same time. But now, thanks to Ava’s organizational skills, no two contests overlapped.
I was one of the judges of the pie baking contest, and we strolled toward the tent hand-in-hand. As part of a fundraiser, I’d also agreed to let the winner of the pie contest throw a pie in my face.
As we passed the kids’ section on the way to the pie contest, one of the Pine Hills cheerleaders waved us over. “Sheriff Whittaker. Miss Ava!”
Ava paused. “We have to stop. I'm the one who suggested the face painting booth.”
I looked at my watch as we got into line behind all the wiggling kids currently waiting to get their faces painted.
Ava had also suggested grouping all the kids’ activities together in one place, which was a hit. “We didn’t have one before?” I asked.
“No. The committee said they didn’t have enough volunteers. So I suggested finding a teen group. The cheerleaders were thrilled. They've been practicing all week. The volleyball team is running the ball toss booth, and the soccer team is handling the sack races.”
“What about the football players?”
“They’re in charge of the corn maze and the pumpkin painting.”
“Wow. Great idea mobilizing the teens.” I actually already knew who was in charge of the corn maze, because that’s where I planned to propose. I figured that it would make a good story, and being a journalist, Ava loved a good story.
“They were happy to help,” she said.
That was true enough. I’d seen that enough in my work as sheriff. For the most part the teeangers wanted to play an active role in their community.
“How’d you know it was going to work out so well?”
She smiled up at me. “I didn’t. I took a chance.”
That was my Ava. She was practical, but also a natural risk taker. “The kids like the responsibility,” I said.
“They absolutely do,” she said.
Finally it was our turn. The cheerleader in front of me jumped up and down. “Sheriff! My little brother heard you speak to his class a few months ago, and he hasn’t stopped talking about it yet.”
“That’s great to hear.” I’d wondered if I was wasting my time going to speak at the schools so often, since hanging around with little kids didn’t come naturally to me. But I was going to have to get over that, now that I had my own on the way.
The girl shoved a cardboard paper in front of me. “What painting would you like on your face?” The girl was so excited she was practically vibrating.
I looked each one over. “I’ll take the Pine Hills painting.” The painting was fairly sophisticated. It was a pine tree in front of the outline of a hill.
“We knew you’d like that one,” she said.
Next to me, Ava pressed her lips together to suppress a smile. She’d chosen a harvest pumpkin.
“All done,” the girl exclaimed. She held up a mirror, and I was surprised