Pinch: Chapter 5

My mom. Good ol’ mom. She knows all there is to know (and all she shouldn’t know) about anyone and everyone here in town. And in every other town.

I walked over to my parents’ house, two lattes in hand, with something like a pep in my step. It could’ve totally just been an indent in my boot from the button, but I like to think I was feeling newly motivated to solve the mystery of F.P.W.

“Mom, it’s me. I brought coffee.”

As I took off my coat and boots at the door, I tried not to choke on the familiar smells of my parents’ house: strong coffee, cigarette smoke, and apple pie. Unfortunately for me, there was no apple pie here; just staggering amounts of scented candles burning in an effort to mask the cigarette smoke.

“Hannah! I was just about to call you. And POOF, here you are. What’s going on, darling?” My mother gracefully swished into the kitchen in her usual chiffon kimono-style robe and furry house slippers.

“Poof, here I am. I am in need of your extensive societal knowledge.” I explained the Willowtree instances to my mother, and felt all the earlier peppy mystery-solving motivation evaporate as she immediately closed up like a clam. Although she denied ever having heard the name, I could read the wariness on her face and the forced nonchalance in her shrug.

“Hmm. Sounds like a prank or something. I wouldn’t worry about it. Let me fix you lunch, dear, you’ve gotten so thin since you moved out. How about I fix you lunch and dinner? Your father and I miss you, you know…”

I was used to this conversation. Being an only child and moving out just three months ago, I was often the recipient of this guilt trip. After a rather large and delicious lunch, I left my mom to her afternoon of whatever it is that she does, and decided on my next stop: the library.

If the fabulous Francie Brewer didn’t want to dish on Mr. Willowtree, there must really be a mystery worth solving here.