Pink Flamingoed Read online

  Pink

  Flamingoed

  Steve

  Demaree

  A pink flamingo and a little old lady who shoots a paintball gun at anyone who gets too close to her house are just two of the characters an author meets when he inherits and moves into his grandparents' house. Minutes after moving into the house, a middle-aged couple, and his attractive next-door neighbor, knock on his door, sing Christmas carols to him, and invite him to join them in progressive caroling, followed by a Christmas get-together of all of the neighbors. Pink Flamingoed – book one in the Aylesford Place Humorous Christian Romance Series - is a feel-good book, with lovable characters, including the neighborhood tightwad, and the neighbor who causes him grief. The book is a combination of humor and romance and has a Christian theme.

  Copyright 2008

  Steve Demaree

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is dedicated to the two people I love the most and whose love I deserve the least, my wife Nell and my daughter Kelly. May God continue to bless me with their presence in my life. It is also dedicated to the memory of those people who lived on the real Aylesford Place when I did; Russell Hamilton, L. J. Boyers, Grace Adams, Bill Prather, and Gano and Pat Lee. All of them meant so much to the teenage boy I was then.

  Other Books by Steve Demaree

  Lt. Dekker-Sgt. Murdock Mystery Series

  52 Steps to Murder

  Murder in the Winter

  Murder in the Library

  Murder at Breakfast

  Murder at the High School Reunion

  Murder at the Art & Craft Fair

  Santangelo PG-Rated Mystery/Thriller Series

  Picture Them Dead

  Body Count

  Murder in the Dark

  Aylesford Place Humorous Christian Romance Series

  Pink Flamingoed

  Neighborhood Hi Jinx

  Croquet Anyone?

  Non-Fiction

  Lexington & Me

  Inspirational

  Reflecting Upon God’s Word

  Table of Contents

  A Map of Aylesford Place

  Residents of Aylesford Place

  The New Neighbor

  The Cold Dark Fortress

  The Other Side of the Street

  A Heart-To-Heart Talk

  Next-Door Neighbors

  Settling In

  Sunday

  A Lot Like Christmas

  Home For Christmas

  E-Mail For The Oldies

  The Ice Storm

  In The Bleak Midwinter

  A Homeless Man

  Be My Valentine

  Mother Cora

  Fatherly Advice

  New Life

  Easter

  Detective Work

  Fund Raiser

  Pink Flamingoed

  Special Delivery

  Double Dating

  The Fourth of July Picnic

  Despised Samaritans

  And Baby Makes Six

  A Surprise Birthday Party

  Come Ye Thankful People

  More Reflections

  Residents of Aylesford Place

  Brad Forrester - Aylesford Place’s newest resident, a young, single man who writes whodunits.

  Amy Carmichael - A young, single woman who earns her living by taking photographs and selling them through her website and in specialty stores.

  Cora Henderson - The most vocal resident of Aylesford Place. She specializes in organizing church events, neighborhood fund raisers, and in making Brad and Amy a couple.

  Frank Henderson - Cora’s husband, who usually keeps quiet, but has a sound head on his shoulders.

  Pastor Scott Armbruster - Pastor of The Church on Aylesford Place, the church attended by most of the street’s residents.

  Nancy Armbruster - Wife of Scott and mother of Jill, Kenny, and Mallory.

  Jill Armbruster - The almost-teenage daughter of Scott and Nancy, an avid book reader who has a crush on the street’s most famous author.

  Kenny Armbruster - Ten-year-old son of Scott and Nancy, who delights in teasing his sisters.

  Mallory Armbruster - Five-year-old daughter of Scott and Nancy, who acts well above her years.

  Harry Conklin - Retired IRS agent, who likes to hold on to his money and often incurs Cora’s wrath.

  Ethel Conklin - Harry’s wife.

  Minerva Peabody - The street’s most infamous recluse whose house is hidden behind a wall. It is rumored that she shoots at intruders.

  Allison Davenport - A young woman who is confined to a wheelchair, but runs an internet business from her home and gets around as well as most of the neighborhood’s residents.

  Melanie Daniels - A young, single woman who chases men and sells real estate.

  Barney Flowers - A retired jeweler who is known for wearing loud shirts, driving a candy apple red 1949 Buick, and dating Bertha Callahan.

  Bertha Callahan - An elderly woman who is hard of hearing and is in love with Barney Flowers.

  Doc Ramsey - An elderly, but still practicing, doctor.

  Lady Catherine McPherson - An elderly woman who claims to have been an actress and dramatizes every word she speaks.

  Norman McPherson - Lady Catherine’s grandson, who has not been seen by anyone on the street in over a year, but is a night clerk at the local motel.

  Jim Mitchell - A salesman who travels most of the time.

  Kathy Mitchell - Jim’s wife. She spends her winters reading and her summers running around with her newlywed daughter.

  Ray & Doris Orthmyer – A couple who are away in Florida.

  The New Neighbor

  When his day began, best-selling novelist Brad Forrester envisioned driving to his new home five hours away, hiding out in the upper reaches of a three-story red brick house, and writing his next whodunit. In some neighborhoods in Hopemont, that might have been possible, but Brad was not moving to some neighborhood, he was moving to Aylesford Place. Before he would realize it, he would become one of the gang. Not the top dog, even though he was a successful author. Not the left out newcomer found in most “normal” neighborhoods. But one of the family, no more important, no less important, than anyone else on that dead end street known as Aylesford Place.

  Brad had barely arrived when a bit of Aylesford Place descended upon him. He had merely opened the front door of his house for the first time and dumped his first batch of belongings on the floor. His furniture was yet to come. He had brought with him a new homeowner’s equivalent of an airplane carry-on bag. The rest of his belongings would arrive the next day. He had just finished unloading everything he thought he might need on his first night in his new home. Almost as soon as Brad sat down the first of his belongings and laid his claim to his new home, he met some of his neighbors.

  As Brad bounded down the stairs to the first floor of his new home, the doorbell rang. Who in the world can that be? I’ve just finished unloading the car. Can this be the welcoming committee so soon? If so, they mustn’t have much to do. Brad hurried to the door to see who was there. As he twisted the brass knob and opened the thick, oak door, he heard carolers. Brad leaned against the door and smiled as he looked down at the statuesque, attractive redhead and the couple who accompanied her, a couple who looked as if they might be in their early sixties. The older woman looked much like Edith Bunker, the man like someone who would be a calming influence in the eye of a storm, but it was the redhead who really caught his attention.

  Small group. Good carolers must be hard to find around here. Brad continued to lean against the door enjoying each moment until the caroling stopped.

  “Hi, I’m Cora Henderson and this is my husband Frank. And this pretty young thing is Amy. Frank and I live two doors down, and Amy is your n
ext-door neighbor,” Cora said, as she pointed to their homes. “Welcome to Aylesford Place, the street where everyone is family.”

  This woman might look like Edith Bunker, but there’s no way she sounds like her. Brad quickly decided that this woman was the decision maker of the neighborhood.

  Stunned by the immediate hospitality, Brad recovered quickly.

  “Wow! Are you always this prompt when welcoming new neighbors?”

  “Only the nice ones,” Cora answered.

  Brad laughed.

  “And how do you know I’m nice?”

  “I can tell,” Cora answered. “You’re going to be an asset to the neighborhood.”

  Cora glanced at Amy and smiled at her as she answered Brad.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Brad responded to Cora as he caught a glimpse of Amy out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, by the way, I’m Brad.”

  “Well, Brad, we’re doing some progressive caroling,” Amy chimed in. “Want to join us? It’s a lot of fun.”

  “Yeah, a lot of fun,” repeated Cora.

  “What’s progressive caroling?” Brad asked. He did not care what progressive caroling was. Unless it was illegal or immoral, he wanted in. There was something about Cora’s persuasiveness and Amy’s looks that attracted him.

  “It’s where someone starts out by going to a house and carols to whoever lives there, and then asks them to join the group and carol to the other neighbors.”

  “From the size of your group, I’d say either you are just getting started or the other neighbors are less enthused about your endeavor than you are.”

  “An astute observation, Mr. Holmes. We’ve just begun, and this will be a good way for you to meet many of your neighbors,” Amy said, hoping to encourage her new neighbor to join them.

  “Sounds like fun to me, Dr. Watson,” Brad said, picking up on Amy’s Sherlock Holmes reference and choosing to continue it by referring to Sherlock Holmes trusted companion. The pluses mounted. Not only was this young woman attractive and nice, but she knew something about murder mysteries. “Why don’t the three of you step inside while I get my coat?”

  “And you might want a hat or a scarf,” Amy suggested. “You’ll probably need them since it’s snowing hard and the wind is blowing.”

  “Yeah, I can tell,” Brad said, as he flashed a smile, causing Cora to elbow Frank and give him a wink.

  The trio stepped into the bare house. Brad hurried over to the stairs and turned to climb them to get his coat and boots.

  Cora looked around at the empty house.

  “Why, Brad, your place is divine. You must let me know who your decorator is.”

  “I’m glad you like it. My decorator came cheaply and highly recommended by Abe Lincoln. Word is he also did Lincoln’s first cabin,” Brad called out over his shoulder as he jogged up the stairs.

  When Brad was out of earshot, Cora turned to Amy and whispered, “Looks like a good neighbor for you, Amy.”

  Amy grinned, then turned red and did her best to cover her mouth and face with her hand. Amy was seldom embarrassed by anything or anyone, but then Amy had seldom had a handsome new neighbor.

  In a couple of minutes Brad returned, bundled up, ready to take on the elements. He looked at Amy who stood in front of him, happy that he had not dreamed up this gorgeous creature. Brad loved the way Amy’s auburn hair fell against the back of her coat. Her hair served as a frame to show off her smooth skin, her emerald green eyes, her captivating smile.

  “Sorry it took me so long. I hope I’m not holding you up,” Brad apologized.

  “I hope you’re not, either,” Cora replied. “Money is so hard to come by these days.”

  “Oh, Frank, you’ve got a clever wife. I can tell someone has to get up mighty early in the morning to get ahead of her. Oh, by the way, to satisfy your curiosity, the moving van will be bringing my furniture first thing in the morning.”

  “Where do you plan to sleep in the meantime?” Frank asked.

  “My mansion came with some of the finest hardwood floors this side of Old Abe himself, and I did bring a couple of pillows and enough blankets to keep me warm.”

  “There’s a reason they call them hardwood floors. Why don’t you stay with us?” Frank asked.

  “Thanks for the offer, but the van may arrive mighty early and I want to be up and about when it gets here.”

  “We’d better quit all of this chitchat or we’ll never get any caroling done,” Cora interrupted. “Brad, Amy will serve as your guide on your initial tour of Aylesford Place.”

  Brad locked the door and the threesome-turned-foursome scurried to Brad’s other next-door neighbor’s house. When Cora was sure that Amy had diverted Brad’s attention, she turned and whispered in Frank’s ear, “Thanks for the offer. How do you know that you weren’t offering a room to an ax murderer?”

  “Oh, he has impeccable credentials. An old lady I know told me that he will be an asset to our neighborhood,” Frank whispered, then smiled at his wife.

  Amy had never served as a tour guide, but decided to be both informative and entertaining as she educated Brad about his new surroundings.

  “On the left you see a three-story red brick, much like all of the other three-story red bricks in this neighborhood, only at this particular house we will find Harry and Ethel Conklin. While it cannot be confirmed, all evidence points to the fact that if Harry does not still have the first dollar he ever made, he has the second one. In other words, if you find yourself low on money, check with all of the rest of the neighbors before you check with Harry.”

  Brad ate it up. He loved Amy’s sense of humor as much as he enjoyed her looks. He had already made up his mind that he was going to like this neighborhood, or at least a part of it.

  As the foursome arrived at the Conklin house, Cora nudged Amy and encouraged her to act as spokesman for the group. Amy climbed the steps and rang the doorbell. The quartet began to sing. After they had sung a few bars, a man, most of whose hair had long since parted ways with his head, opened the door. When they had finished singing their complement of songs, Amy began introductions.

  “Harry, this is Brad. He just moved in next door. We’re going progressive caroling again. Are you and Ethel ready to go?”

  “We sure are,” said a gray-headed woman who joined her husband at the door. “Good to meet you, Brad.”

  Brad formed impressions based on old movies and TV shows. This woman reminded him of Mrs. Wilson, Dennis the Menace’s next-door neighbor, the man more like Sam Drucker, of Petticoat Junction and Green Acres.

  “Is it just like last year?”

  “Yes, Harry, and the year before that and the year before that,” Cora added.

  “So that means there’ll be food and it doesn’t cost me anything?” Harry asked.

  “Nothing ever costs you anything, Harry,” Cora responded. “Now, get your coat on and get your carcass out the door. You’re holding us up.”

  “See, Harry, you were right when you said you thought they’d come tonight and that we didn’t need to worry about fixing dinner,” Ethel said, loud enough for all to hear. While Cora looked more like Edith Bunker, Ethel’s comments sounded more like something Edith would say to Archie.

  Harry frowned at Ethel and then turned to his new neighbor.

  “Well, there’s no need wasting good food, I always say.”

  Brad looked at Amy and they grinned at one another. Evidently Amy was right about this guy, Brad thought.

  The foursome waited until Harry and Ethel zipped and buttoned their coats and wrapped scarves around their necks before they moved on.

  Cora continued to bark out instructions.

  “We’ll stay on this side of the street until the end, even though there are no more stops. That way Amy can let Brad know who all the neighbors are.”

  Brad took advantage of Cora’s comment and turned to Amy.

  “So, you discriminate.”

  “Just a little,” Amy replied. “Ray and Dori
s Orthmyer live in the next house. We won’t sing to them because they can’t hear us.”

  “So they’re hearing impaired?”

  “No, they’re in Florida,” Amy interjected, with a satisfied look on her face. “They go every winter. By the time they get back, no one wants to listen to Christmas carols.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. I kind of like singing them in July.”

  “I’ll make a note of that. We’ll put you down for our number one caroler at the Fourth of July picnic.”

  Amy enjoyed how comfortable she felt around Brad, and Brad liked the idea that this woman could hold her own with him. Still, Brad was not about to let up as the group continued to walk.

  The snowfall grew heavier and more closely resembled a January snow than a pre-Christmas snow. While snow was not unusual before Christmas in Hopemont, snowfalls with any significant accumulation usually did not happen until sometime in January. The weather report predicted a heavy snow; it also predicted one of short duration. It snowed hard enough that sometimes it was hard to see through, but no one expected an accumulation of more than an inch or two.

  The snow beat against Brad’s face. He stuck his tongue out and tried to catch as many flakes as possible. Amy looked at him and laughed. Brad looked at her and stuck his tongue out again. Amy stuck out her tongue, too. Brad stumbled slightly, latched on to Amy to steady himself, then noticed that they had arrived at the next house.

  I must remember to tell mother that my new neighbor threw himself at me just minutes after he met me, Amy thought, then laughed to herself. Amy would not tell her mother any such thing. Her mother was too eager to see her daughters married, and so far she was zero for three.