Roxie dragged on Sir Charles’s leash. “We can each take a handful later this afternoon and post them in the places we discussed. Make sure you have pushpins along.”

“You’ll have it done by then?”

“MJ, this isn’t a book we’re writing, but a one-sheet poster. I think I’ll make it eleven by fourteen. Bigger will attract more attention. I’ll make it plenty bright.”

“I need another latte.”

Chapter Two

Looks pretty good.” Amalia nodded, setting the blue ribbon on her straw hat to bobbing. Leave it to Roxie and MJ to come up with an idea like this. UFO group. Not that she had so many UFOs since she’d sold her home and moved into the senior apartments in what used to be the Tilden School. The school her children had attended. Seemed strange at times for it to be housing seniors now. But she was plenty comfortable there. Besides, quite a few of her friends lived there now too.

She turned to a woman she knew from church who had also stopped to read the poster on the library’s bulletin board. “You have any unfinished projects?”

“Do birds eat seeds? I do have a quilter friend, however, who has none. A big zero. She doesn’t even have a stash. Uses her fabrics up and then buys new for the next quilt. You’d think that would be illegal, you know.”

“Or she’s lying.”

“Now, Amalia…”

“You going?”

“I think so, got to check my calendar. You?”

Amalia nodded again. “Oh, yeah, MJ and Roxie’d have my head if I didn’t show up. Besides, maybe Gary will have his ginger cookies there. Tried to talk him out of the recipe but he wouldn’t budge. Says he has a secret ingredient.”

“Well, I better get my books and head on home. My husband gave me a list to pick up for him too. See you there.”

Amalia watched her friend as she disappeared in the stacks. She sure wasn’t walking as well since that minor stroke she had. Pity. Just the thought caused a thank-you to raise heavenward that she could still ride her bike and walk as far as she needed to. A hip replacement had freed her from the worst pain anyway. She went on over to the desk to pick up the two books she had put on order, checked them out, waved to another friend sitting over by the window reading, and headed out to where she had parked her blue three-wheeled bike with both front and rear baskets. This was her main mode of transportation, other than public, since she’d moved smack-dab in the middle of Fond du Lac. Much easier than when she’d lived a couple of miles out in the country.

Digging her cell phone out of her rear jeans pocket, she punched Roxie’s number. “Looks good,” she said after the usual greetings. “Where all did you post them?” She nodded as Roxie caught her up. “You got any more? I’ll put one up at the apartments. No, on my way home right now. I’ll swing by and pick it up.”