“Could you have two concerts?” Mother asked. “One tonight and one Sunday night?”

“Trinity Episcopal could host one,” Robyn said. “Possibly both—let me check our calendar. And we can contact all the other local churches. I’m sure among us we can find sufficient spaces for everything.”

“That would be wonderful,” Reverend Wilson said. “Take quite a bit of work to arrange, though.”

I’d already figured that out. And since the last few weeks of nonstop holiday preparations had left me feeling stretched a little thin, I began trying to think of a tactful way to leave before a big chunk of that work landed on my plate. Luckily, Grandfather helped me out.

“Meg!” He appeared at my side, looking his usual impatient self. “Caroline’s going to stay here to supervise the skunk removal. Can you take me over to the zoo? We’ve got to get a temporary habitat ready for these skunks.”

Chapter 6

Perfect. Even if readying the skunk habitat took hours, I decided that chauffeuring Grandfather offered the best chance of seeing my bed sometime before nightfall.

“I’ll be happy to take you out to the zoo,” I said. And then, before Mother could protest that she needed me here, I added, “The sooner we have a place to put them, the sooner the cleanup can begin.”

Mother nodded her approval and returned her attention to the two ministers. Robyn had already taken out her Day-Timer and was scribbling notes. A woman after my own heart, although my notebook-that-tells-me-when-to-breathe, as I called my giant to-do list, was currently housed not in a Day-Timer but a small well-worn, tooled-leather ring binder made by a fellow craft show artist.

Reverend Wilson was looking less glum. The situation was in hand; I could sneak off with a clear conscience.

Grandfather brooded quietly on the way over to the zoo, only breaking his silence occasionally to favor me with some tidbit of information about skunks. I’m not sure why he felt obliged to tell me that the Great Horned Owl, due to its nearly nonexistent sense of smell, was the skunk’s only serious predator. And while I found it interesting that the Native Americans used skunk oil as a mild liniment or healing balm, I hoped he wouldn’t repeat this information in front of Rose Noire. Given her fascination with natural remedies, I could easily see her collecting skunk spray and smearing it all over any family member who seemed in need of healing.