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Word of Dave’s suicide had gotten around fast and it was a rather subdued group that gathered later that morning at the Seamen’s Bank. People were huddled in small groups, murmuring and shaking their heads at this tragic development.
“Why on earth?” wondered Bert Cogswell. “Why would he do something like that?”
“Embarrassment?” wondered Nate Macdonald.
“Personally, I wish we’d never started this promotion, with that damn egg,” said Tony Marzetti. “More trouble than it was worth, if you ask me.”
Eddie Culpepper was helping himself to a second donut, and getting a reproving glance from his mother, Marge, when Lucy approached him. “How’s the tooth?” she asked.
“Working just fine, as you can see,” said Marge, in a disapproving tone.
“Boys have big appetites,” said Lucy.
“Takes after his father,” observed Marge, referring to Barney. She lowered her voice. “Awful about Dave. I feel so bad for Sandy. You can only imagine what she’s feeling.” She paused, shaking her head as Eddie reached for a third donut. “It’s the ones left behind who suffer the most.”
Lucy was about to respond when Corney Clark clapped her hands, announcing the drawing was about to begin. Everyone gathered around the table holding the Easter basket, which was now accompanied by a large stoneware crock containing all the completed entries.
“First of all, I want to say that our town has suffered a terrible loss this morning . . .”
There was a collective murmur of assent.
“Our thoughts and prayers are with Dave’s family, especially his wife, Sandy.”
Another murmur.
“Dave was a terrific guy, a friend to all and a strong supporter of our town and the Chamber, in particular, and he will be missed by many.”
Nods and sighs all round.
“But now we have important business to conduct, the drawing for our fabulous Easter basket, with the Karl Klaus egg.” She waved her hand gracefully, indicating the Easter basket. “And I’m happy to report that our Easter Egg promotion was a stunning success, that crock contains over two hundred entries representing shoppers who spent at least a total of one hundred dollars collecting stickers.”
Lucy sighed, aware that she was not one of them. Her card had gone missing, somewhere, before she completed it.
Corney continued, crowing about the successful promotion, declaring, “If you do the math, that adds up to twenty thousand dollars going into our local economy from this promotion!”
This announcement was greeted with applause.
Corney held up her hand, for silence. “And that is just from the completed cards; we know a lot of people started collecting stickers but didn’t complete their cards.” There was a murmur of agreement from a number of people in the crowd, including Lucy. Corney expressed her sympathy for the losers with a smile, then continued. “I, for one, am very grateful to all the folks who participated and now, I need a volunteer to pick the winning card.”
There was a shuffling of feet and a lot of glancing, and then Jen Holden, the teller, raised her hand. “I’ll do it.”
“Great! Come on down, Jen.”
Jen tossed back her long blond hair and made her way through the crowd, a serious expression on her face. Reaching the table, she paused and looked to Corney for direction.
“Give it a stir,” urged Corney, leading a countdown, which everyone joined. “Ten, nine, eight . . .” As each number was called Jen enthusiastically stirred the entries.
“This is harder than it looks,” confessed Jen, with a laugh, as they got down to the final numbers. “Two, one and here’s the winner,” she exclaimed, holding up a card and handing it to Corney.
“Franny Small! Franny Small is the winner. Is Franny here?”
“Oh, my goodness!” exclaimed Franny, flustered. “I never expected to win!”
“This is two times, isn’t it?” inquired Bert. “You won the Closest to the Pin, didn’t you?”
Franny’s face turned quite red, but she quickly recovered. “I guess I’m just lucky,” she said. “I never expected to win, I just wanted to support the promotion. And in that spirit, I plan to sell the Karl Klaus egg and use the money to establish a girls’ golf program at the town course.”
