A Piedmont Porchlight Story
The Coffee Cup was buzzing before I’d even finished my first cup of coffee. That usually meant one of two things. Either somebody had caught a ten-pound bass, or somebody had done something they hoped nobody would find out about.
Hattie was smiling. That should’ve been my first clue. Curtis Pope looked over his menu. “What’s got you grinnin’?”
“Oh, nothin’.”
I looked at Curtis. “That’s a lie.”
He nodded. “Sure is.”
Hattie poured coffee into my cup. “I just enjoy watchin’ y’all figure things out.”
Curtis squinted at her. “You know somethin’.”
“I usually do.”
I leaned back in the booth. “All right. Who got arrested?”
“Nobody.”
“Who got engaged?”
“Nope.”
“Who bought a new truck?”
She smiled. “Warmer.”
Curtis threw up his hands. “Would you just tell us?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“‘Cause y’all are about three minutes away from hearin’ it on your own.”
Right then the front door opened. Earl Johnson walked in. Before he even sat down, he said, “Did y’all hear Jimmy Harlan bought a new pickup?”
Hattie looked at us over the coffee pot. “Told you.”
Curtis blinked. “How’d you know?”
She shrugged. “His wife had pancakes.”
“What?”
“This morning.”
Curtis looked even more confused. “What in the world does that have to do with a pickup?”
Hattie smiled. “She always orders biscuits. This morning she ordered pancakes.”
“So?”
“So, she was celebratin’.”
I started laughing. “You figured out Jimmy bought a truck because his wife changed breakfast?”
“I surely did.”
Curtis shook his head. “That’s impossible.”
“Oh?”
She pointed toward Earl. “Ask him what color it is.”
Curtis turned. “Earl?”
“Blue.”
She nodded. “I figured.”
Curtis just stared. “How?”
“Jimmy’s wife wouldn’t celebrate over a white pickup.”
I laughed so hard I nearly spilled my coffee. “Hattie, you’ve lost your mind.”
She smiled. “Honey, I found it years ago.”
About then Miss Evelyn wandered in. “Morning, everybody.”
“Mornin’.” She hung her purse on the back of the chair. “I just heard Jimmy bought a blue pickup.”
Curtis looked at me. “That took… what? Three minutes.”
I looked at my watch. “Less.”
Funny thing about small towns. Rumors don’t travel because people gossip. They travel because people care. They notice. They notice when somebody’s porch light doesn’t come on. They notice when the barber closes early. They notice when a truck is parked in a different driveway. They notice when somebody orders pancakes instead of biscuits.
Most of the time they’re not being nosy. They’re paying attention.
Curtis finally looked at Hattie. “All right. You win.”
“I know.”
“But answer me one thing.”
“What?”
“How do you always know everything first?”
She laughed. “I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“I just pour the coffee.”
People tell the rest. Just then the front door opened again. Jimmy Harlan walked in carrying a grin nearly as big as the truck he’d just bought. Before he could say a word, Hattie called across the restaurant. “Well… how’s that blue pickup drivin’?”
Jimmy stopped dead in his tracks. “Who told you?”
Hattie smiled sweetly. “You did.”
“I ain’t even seen you today.”
“No. But your wife had pancakes.”
The whole Coffee Cup exploded into laughter. Jimmy looked around the room. “I don’t reckon there’s a secret alive in Piedmont.”
I picked up my coffee. “Oh, there are secrets.”
He looked at me. “There are?”
“Sure.”
“They just don’t stay lonely very long.”
olbigjim 