The Waltons 2 - Trouble on the Mountain by Robert Weverka Page B

Mountain. “Miss Mamie?”
    “Oh, Mr. Walton,” she smiled, “we’re not going home yet. We just don’t ever come to Charlottesville without stopping in to see Mr. Harper.”
    Miss Emily agreed. “Just wouldn’t seem like we’d been to Charlottesville.”
    “But, Miss Mamie, it’s long past supper time.”
    “Is it? Well, I’m just not the least bit hungry. Are you, Emily?”
    “Not at all. Shopping just makes me so excited, my appetite plumb disappears.”
    Zeb nodded and settled back in the seat. He knew there was no use protesting. Earlier in the spring, just before the Baldwin sisters’ reunion party, Zeb had found himself in much the same situation. That time he had not gotten home until after midnight. But it had been his own fault; he had sipped a little too much of the ladies’ Recipe and ended up taking them to a movie theater when their car wouldn’t start. Esther had hit the ceiling and didn’t let him forget it for a month. At least this time, Zeb consoled himself, he had a good excuse. Getting the electricity turned back on ought to make them all happy enough to forgive his sins. To err is human, he thought with a smile, and to forgive is divine. And when the lights came on, they’d all sure enough think it was divine. In the meantime, however, he’d just have to grit his teeth and pray they didn’t decide to visit everyone they knew in Charlottesville.
    Mr. Harper turned out to be the proprietor of a drugstore—a smiling, pink-faced little man. “Well, well, well, ladies, what a pleasant surprise,” he beamed as he came out from behind the soda fountain.
    Zeb tried to smile through the introductions, and then the ladies gushed on.
    “Papa purchased all his medicine from Mr. Harper during the illness.”
    “I declare, I just don’t think we could ever count the number of times he literally saved Papa’s life.”
    “And a pleasure it was to serve such a fine and distinguished gentleman as Judge Baldwin,” the druggist responded.
    “Mr. Harper would deliver the medicine personally all the way to our house. And he never left without sharing some of Papa’s Recipe.”
    Mr. Harper brought his hands together and closed his eyes. “Ahhh, the Recipe.”
    The ladies were smiling impishly now. Miss Emily dug into her handbag. “We have a surprise for you, Mr. Harper!”
    “You don’t mean . . .”
    Miss Emily lifted her hand, displaying a mason jar full of amber liquid. “It’s from a batch Papa made in 1925!”
    “We only share it with very special people,” Miss Mamie smiled.
    Mr. Harper took the jar in loving hands. “Well, I declare. I do declare. How very thoughtful of you ladies. Now,” he said, his face brightening, “you must let me do something for you. How about three ice cream sodas? On the house.”
    “Mr. Walton? Have we the time?”
    “Well . . .”
    “Oh, let’s indulge ourselves,” Miss Mamie cried. “Mr. Harper, your hospitality is simply overwhelming!”
    “Can we have chocolate?” Miss Emily asked.
    “Three chocolate sodas coming up. You just browse around, and I’ll have ’em ready in a jiffy.”
    “Isn’t he just the most lovely gentleman?” Miss Mamie said.
    “He truly is,” Zeb nodded. It was dark outside now, and the ice cream sodas would probably take another hour to drink. Zeb smiled, and the two sisters moved around the displays.
    “Sister?” Miss Emily said. “Look here! Perfume! That’s the one thing we didn’t get!”
    “Oh, aren’t they just the most lovely bottles!”
    Miss Emily removed a stopper and sniffed. “Oh, my. It smells positively wicked!”
    “Well, what can you expect? Just look at that name. ‘L’Amour.’ French women have no shame.”
    Zeb stared at a display of pocketknives and then wandered over to the perfume counter.
    “Zebulon, I do think you ought to buy some of this lovely perfume for Mrs. Walton.”
    Emily agreed. “I think that’s just a lovely idea!”
    Zeb looked at the display. The whole table