Hidden Talents

“You did say this was supposed to be a birthday party, didn't you?”
    He frowned. “Yes, but you weren't expected to bring a gift.”
    “You're supposed to bring gifts when you attend birthday parties. It's traditional. I didn't have much time to make a selection, I'm afraid. I had to grab some things off the shelf at the store.”
    “It's not important,” Caleb said. “You shouldn't have bothered.”
    Serenity ignored that and turned to smile brightly at Roland. “This is for you, Mr. Ventress. Where shall I put it?”
    “Dolores will take it and put it with the others,” Phyllis said before Roland could respond.
    “No,” Roland said. He studied Serenity for a few seconds. “I believe I'll open it now, Miss Makepeace. I reckon I've got a streak of curiosity a mile wide.”
    “Me, too,” Serenity agreed. “I can never wait to open presents.” Conscious of Phyllis's annoyed expression, Serenity hurried toward the window where Roland stood. “And please, call me Serenity.”
    “All right. Serenity.” Roland set down his whiskey and turned the package in his hands. “Nice of you to bring this.”
    “I hope you like it.” She watched as he untied the green bow and undid the bright paper to reveal the cardboard box inside.
    Roland lifted the lid of the box and examined the assortment of products inside. “What have we got here?”
    “It's a collection of items from my store, Witt's End Grocery,” Serenity explained. “A bottle of the best herbed vinegar ever to grace a salad, lemon and orange marmalade from the Sunflower Café, a package of mixed dried beans, and the instructions for a terrific bean chili and some homemade granola. Do you like granola?”
    “Don't believe I've ever eaten any.”
    “This is some of the world's best. Just ask Caleb. He's tried it.”
    Roland looked speculatively at Caleb. “That right?”
    Caleb's mouth curved in the first sign of amusement he had shown since leaving Witt's End. “Be sure to add milk. It's a little dry otherwise.”
    “For heaven's sake, Caleb.” Serenity glared at him. “I'm sure your grandfather knows enough to add milk to his cereal.”
    Caleb said nothing.
    “Thanks, Serenity,” Roland said. “I'll look forward to trying the various items. They're all from your store, I believe you said?”
    “That's right.”
    “And where would that be?” Roland asked.
    “Witt's End. Ever heard of it?”
    “Don't believe so,” Roland said.
    “I think I have,” Jessica said hesitantly. “It's a little town in the Cascades, isn't it?”
    Serenity was pleased. “Yes, it is. Have you ever been there?”
    “No,” Jessica admitted. “We sometimes ski at a resort that's not too far from there, though.”
    “Has your family lived there very long?” Peter inquired.
    “I was born there,” Serenity said proudly. “The first and only person who was ever actually born in Witt's End.”
    “Is that so?” Roland eyed her closely. “And your father? Did he run this grocery store of yours before you took it over?”
    “Oh, no.” Serenity took a sip of her sherry. “I opened the store all by myself three years ago.”
    “What line of work is your father in?” Roland persisted.
    It occurred to Serenity that she was being interrogated. She was aware that people in Caleb's world considered such rude questioning normal, but she had grown up with a different set of social rules. In Witt's End, no one asked such personal questions unless invited to do so. Still, when in Rome , she reminded herself.
    “Julius is into woodworking,” she said, not wanting to bog down the conversation with a long explanation of just how Julius's name came to be on her birth certificate.
    “And motorcycles,” Caleb murmured.
    Roland scowled. “Motorcycles? He sells 'em?”
    “No, he just likes them,” Serenity explained. “He and Bethanne both own Harley-Davidsons. Julius likes to brag that he rode with a wild bunch in his younger days, but just between you and me, I've always taken that story with a grain of salt.”
    Phyllis stared at her. “How on earth does your father make a living at woodworking?”
    Serenity took another sip of sherry and began to relax. These people weren't being deliberately rude, she decided. They were just curious. “Julius and Bethanne follow the craft fair circuit in spring and summer. Several residents of Witt's End do the circuit.”
    Franklin's hand tightened around his glass. “The craft fair circuit?”
    “They sell their