Tuesday Tales 2025-9-23 Stubborn

Welcome to Tuesday Tales, powered by a small group of authors, where word prompts inspire passages in the books we’re writing. I’m working on a cozy mystery, Pumpkin Patch Murder. Our word of the day is stubborn. When you finish the passage, make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.

Female laughter tinkled again.

What the blazes was so hilarious?  “I’m so glad you two are enjoying yourselves!” Realizing they weren’t going to help me with the journal or give me a sensible answer about anything today, I grabbed my phone and purse and ran down the hall.

“23 skidoo,” the female voice trilled right behind me, an overlay of amusement in her tone. Stubbornly disregarding their directive to walk, I made a beeline for my car. I ignored the startled eyes of Bo and his workers, revved the engine, maneuvered around, and sped away. The sensation of wheels rolling beneath me was incredibly satisfying.

Throngs of people were out and about, making their way to one shop or another around the Square. With the non-help of the ghosts and the photos of Jack’s journal still on my mind, the cleverly designed sign on the front of Treasured Past caught my eye. Maybe Jack bought his journal from this very store! After nearly straddling the curb in my excitement, I told myself to calm down. A punctured tire or bent rim was the last thing I needed. My little SUV was already wounded from the crazy lunatic road rage driver. The insurance hadn’t come through on that yet. I sternly took myself in hand. When excited, I tended to blab. Once inside the store, I had to extract information, not divulge it.

As I parked in a lot across the street, I remembered my vague impression of Helen’s shop. Not a dusty place, depressing and crowded with discarded mid-century furniture, nor a deceptive space crammed with faux trinkets and ill-made replicas. Rather, I recalled an eclectic inventory of fine accoutrements and fancy bric-a-brac, roomy aisles and clever displays, as befitting the Square’s upscale ambience. A curio or two were sure to sparkle and catch anyone’s eye.

I remembered Robin telling me how daily dusting composed a large part of the morning routine. When working here one summer, she had been kindly scolded more than once for not getting in the crevices and curly cues with her rag. The furniture and other wood products had always gleamed from the manly elbow grease provided by Helen’s late husband, Gerald. His help must be missed these days. I couldn’t picture Mason helping in his mother’s store, not with the import/export business he had inherited from his father and his conspicuous community involvement.

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the piece inspired by the word stubborn. If you haven’t done so already, check out the other excerpts at Tuesday Tales.

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