“I don't blame you,” I said, trying to stifle a laugh as I pictured the confrontation between Dodie and the towel-wearing Auk.

  “That's a pretty spiffy lookin' cake,” Dodie said, turning her attention to the bundt cake on the counter. “Where did you get it from?”

  “Some lady gave it to me on my way here. She said her name was Holly Merbert or Molly Herbert or something like that.”

  “The Co-Chairwoman of the Ladies Auxiliary of the Committee to Stop Urban Sprawl on Admiral Archibald Falls Island?”

  Apparently that was a real thing. Who knew?

  “Why did she give you a cake?” Dodie asked.

  “Beats me,” I said. “She kept going on about her daughter being some kind of Irish step dancing prodigy. The whole conversation was pretty surreal, honestly.”

  Dodie let out a gasp so loud it startled me. “It's you!” she whispered, wide-eyed and backing away from me as if I had the plague. “She got you this time!”

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “The Archie Gras Grand Costume Ball at City Hall! The highlight of the evening is the children's talent show. A special judge is selected to judge the show and award a trophy to the winner. Well, about 10 years ago, Mayor Croaker invited your Aunt Sam to judge the show on account of her havin' been on Broadway and everything-”

  “Aunt Sam was on Broadway?” I interrupted.

  “Yeah, she was in a Broadway production of 'Showboat',” Dodie said. “She wasn't singing or dancing or nothing like that. I think she worked in set design or maybe she was a stage manager. I don't remember what she did, but she met Howard Keel and he even gave her at autographed picture of himself. I think she's still got it in her room.”

  “I never really cared much for Howard Keel,” I said. “He always seemed kind of stuffy to me.”

  “Anyway,” Dodie continued, “your Aunt had a horrible time that night. Parents take the children's talent show very seriously and they aren't good sports when their 'super talented' kid loses. I don't remember all the details, but let's just say, it was bad. The coast guard had to be called in to restore order and I think there were some arrests.”

  “The coast guard? I thought they only dealt with emergencies on the water.”

  “It was bad,” Dodie repeated. “Really bad.”

  “I... see.”

  “Still, every year Mayor Croaker invites her to be the judge of the children's talent show, but every year your Aunt manages to trick someone else into doing it instead of her.”

  “How does she do that? Surely nobody would volunteer to do it after what happened the first year.”

  “Oh, no, it's worse than that! Every year, right about the time Archie Gras is fixing to start, your Aunt starts rumors about somebody on the island, and hints that they have a show business background and that they've been invited to be this year's judge of the children's talent contest. The rumor spreads, everybody gets excited, and then all the parents stars trying to get the unsuspecting person to pick their child. By the time the victim figures it out, it's too late. Everybody expects them to be the judge and they can't back out.”

  “Why, that's a terrible thing to do!”

  “Tell me about it!” Dodie said. “I got stuck with it five years ago. Rumor went around that I played the sister in E.T. and that I still have Steven Spielberg's home phone number.”

  “But, everybody knows Drew Barrymore played the sister on E.T.”

  “Not everybody on this island, I guess. Folks got worked up into a right frenzy. I had people giving me everything from homemade cookies to used cars, and I don't even have a driver's license. I still have nightmares about that children's talent show; Miriam Cornwall was pretty peeved that her yodeling, banjo-playing son didn't win. Her husband is a farmer and they had a bumper crop of tomatoes that year. My Martha Washington costume will never be the same. Anyhow, it looks like it's your turn this time.”

  “This is totally outrageous!” I said. “She can't just volunteer me to be the judge of this horrible contest!”

  “Sorry, but if they're already giving you cakes, it's too late. It's like in those werewolf movies, once you've been bitten you're a wolf whether you like it or not.”

  “We'll see about that! Where is Aunt Sam?”

  “Last I saw, she was out in back on the patio.”

  “Well, it ends here,” I said as I headed out the back door. “I'm going to tell her that I know what she's up to and I simply won't do it!”

  “It won't work!” Dodie called after me. “Better than you have tried!”

  I stalked out to the patio where I found Aunt Sam talking with a middle-aged couple who were lounging in deck chairs overlooking the beach. Aunt Sam is in her early sixties, but looks a lot younger. She is a short, slim woman with hazel eyes and ash blond hair which she wears in a pixie cut. Today she was sporting a teal patio dress with a bright pink palm tree print, shiny gold sandals and a lot of gold bracelets. She was laughing with the couple at something the man had just said. Well, she wouldn't be laughing for long!

  “Oh, good to see you, Teri,” Aunt Sam said as I approached. “Meet Cliff and Tilly Owens. They come over here from Sarasota every year for Archie Gras. Cliff, Tilly, this is my niece Teri that I was telling you about.”

  “Oh yes, the teacher,” said Cliff, a balding man with rosy cheeks. “If my teachers had been half as good-looking as you, flunking 5th grade wouldn't have been such a pain in the butt!”

  “Oh, I so wanted to meet you, Teri,” said Tilly, a curly haired woman with glasses. “It must have been so exciting to have had Justin Bieber in your class! And to think that you discovered him and started him on his career! It all must seem so unreal to you now!”

  Molly Herbert's words were bouncing around my brain like a ping pong ball. “Maggie could be the next Justin!” That Justin? Justin Bieber? Are you kidding me?

  “Absolutely. It's like it never even happened.” Turning to Aunt Sam and smiling sweetly, I said, “Aunt Sam, may I talk to you about something... privately?”

  “Why certainly, dear. Let's go inside where it's cooler.” She turned to Cliff and Tilly. “Please excuse me. No rest for the weary, I'm afraid. Do let me know if you need anything.”

  “Don't mind me,” Cliff replied, stretching himself out on his deck chair. “I think I'll just soak up the sun like a beached whale.”

  “Nice chatting with you, Sammie!” Tilly said.

  When we got into the living room, I turned on Aunt Sam. “I know what you're up to, and you're not going to get away with it this year!” I said.

  “My goodness, dear, I don't know what you're talking about,” Aunt Sam replied.

  “Don't try to play brand new with me! It's too late. Dodie told me all about your diabolical scheme to trap me into judging the children's talent contest at the Archie Gras Grand Costume Ball this year! I can't believe you told people that I discovered Justin Bieber! Seriously? What were you thinking?”

  “I did nothing of the sort. Poor Dodie must have gotten confused again.”

  “Well, if Dodie is so confused, Then why am I being stalked by a crazy urban sprawl protester with a tap dancing kid and a bundt cake bribe?”

  “Now Teri, I understand how upsetting these small town rumors can be, but that's still no reason to make false accusations against your poor old handicapped Aunt.”

  I blinked. “Handicapped? Since when have you been handicapped?”

  “All right, I didn't want to have to tell you this because I don't want to worry you, dear, but I'm regrettably afflicted with this terrible case of lumbago that is potentially incurable.”

  “That's funny,” I remarked. “It looked more like Limbo-bago at your birthday party a couple of nights ago. You certainly outdid everyone else on the dance floor.”

  “Well, of, course, I had to be brave and celebrate for the sake of my guests. It was my sixty-second birthday, after all. I'm not one to think just of myself,” Aunt Sam said as she slowly got up from her chair and and limped over to the window. “Yes, it looks like rain's coming. The arthritis in my knee always predicts wet weather. Thankfully, it doesn't affect the bursitis in my shoulders and elbow too badly.”

  I was about to make a less-than-sympathetic comment about my Aunt's conveniently deteriorating health, when I heard the front door open and Dr. Brad Hendrix entered the room, carrying a potted plant under one arm. Dr. Brad is a tall, well built man in his sixties with light red hair interspersed with gray and a neat mustache. He and Aunt Sam are long time friends and maybe something more. I haven't had much luck figuring out the exact nature of their relationship.

  “I hope this isn't a bad time for a house call,” Dr. Brad said jovially.

  Immediately Aunt Sam turned and sprinted up to him like a track star. Apparently Dr. Brad is an incredibly talented doctor, since just the sound of his voice cured Aunt Sam's lumbago, arthritis and bursitis all at once.

  “Oh, Brad, I was just hoping you would drop by,” Aunt Sam said.

  I bet you were, I thought.

  “Teri and I were having a nice chat and we'd just love for you to join us. Wouldn't we, Teri?”

  “Yes, we'd love to,” I said, forcing a smile. Aunt Sam had outmaneuvered me, but it didn't matter; she can win the battle, but the war was far from over, and Teri McAfee wasn't going down without a fight!

  “Well, I have a treat for you too, ladies,” Dr. Brad said, sitting the potted plant on a table. “What do you think of this?”

  The plant, if you could call it that, was a bedraggled snarl of twisted branches that were adorned here and there with wilted leaves. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't supposed to look like that. I glanced over at Aunt Sam, but she seemed to be as perplexed as I was.

  “It's very... unusual,” I said.

  “I didn't expect you to recognize it,” Dr. Brad chuckled. “Meyer lemon bonsai trees aren't exactly native to Admiral Archibald Falls Island.”

  “You're growing... trees now?” Aunt Sam asked.

  “Yes indeed! I believe I have found my true passion.”

  Dr. Brad had a new passion every few months. Previously, it had been making craft wine out of fermented fruits and vegetables. The final product tasted like rocket fuel and was only slightly less dangerous. And that had been one of his more successful hobbies.

  “Last month I came across a video on bonsai and I was hooked,” Dr. Brad continued. “This is actually my second attempt. I tried one a few weeks ago but it suddenly died for some reason. I complained to the seller but he claimed I didn't follows the instructions on how to care for it. You know, the usual excuses they always make when they don't want to refund your money.”

  “So you did follow the instructions?” Aunt Sam said.

  “Who needs instructions on how to care for a potted plant? I'm a doctor, I know how to take care of things. Anyhow, I contacted a different seller and he warned me that there are scammers in the bonsai Meyer lemon tree community and you have to watch out for them. He said that the miniature Meyer lemon trees are quite rare and you get what you pay for. Lucky for me he had only one left and I was able to snag this little beauty for only $250. Quite a deal for a three year old bonsai tree.”

  “Yes, a bargain at twice the price,” I said.

  “Now it hasn't actually grown any lemons yet, but the seller assures me that-”

  “Bradley? Yoo hoo!” called a voice from outside.

  We turned to see a middle aged woman standing in the doorway wearing a heavy overcoat and lugging a large battered suitcase with both hands.

  “Bertie?” Dr. Brad said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I went to your house but you weren't home and your next door neighbor told me that you were probably over here,” the woman said.

  Dr. Brad turned to us and said, “Uh, Sam, you remember my sister Bertie from Minnesota, don't you? She was down here for a visit a few years ago.”

  “Of course I do,” Aunt Sam said. “It's so good to see you again, Bertie. Let me help you out of that coat. You seem awfully... warm.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Bertie said as Aunt Sam helped her out of her coat. “I am sweating like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs! I forgot how hot it gets down here. How do you stand it?”

  “Well, we're usually not covered in wool.”

  “So, what brings you down to Admiral Archibald Falls Island?” Dr. Brad asked. “Is Herb here with you?”

  “I should say not!” Bertie said. “I've left Herb and left him for good!”

  “You've left Herb? Why would you- I mean, what happened?”

  “I came to my senses, that's what happened. I couldn't go with living in an abusive marriage.”

  “Abusive? You mean he's been hitting you?”

  “Oh no, it's much worse than that! He's been...drinking!” Bertie said, her eyes getting moist.

  Dr. Brad hesitated for a moment, looking confused. “Uh, Bertie,” he said, “Herb has been drinking as long as you've known him. I had to drive to Niagara Falls to bail him out of jail for public intoxication on your honeymoon.”

  “I know, but it's getting worse and his behavior is getting more erratic. He's been fighting with customers at the bowling alley. Just a week ago he got into an argument with a man whose six year old was playing bumper ball. It turned into a physical fight!”

  “He fought with the father in front his child?”

  “No, with the six year old!”

  “Herb hit a child?” Dr. Brad asked in amazement.

  “Well no, the child did all the hitting. At that age their fists are right at groin height. Herb was awfully sore afterwards.”

  “Have you talked to him about seeing a therapist or possibly going to rehab?”

  “Of course I did. He even told me that he had started a twelve step program. But then I found out that he'd just moved his office at the bowling alley to a different room so that he'd be twelve steps away from the bar!” Bertie cried, bursting into tears.

  “There, there...” Dr. Brad said, taking her in his arms and giving us a look of embarrassment.

  “I decided right then and there that if he doesn't care about our marriage any more than that, then neither do I!” Bertie said. “So I packed my bag and came down here to live with you. He won't be laughing now!”

  “Live with me?” Dr. Brad asked, the color draining from his face. “You mean permanently?”

  “Of course. You're my only relative and, besides, you don't have anyone to take care of you. I've seen what happens to single men when they get older and don't have anyone around to make sure they take care of themselves. I don't want you ending up like Leonardo DiCaprio in that Howard Hughes movie.”

  “Uh, well, why don't we go back to my house and discuss this further,” Dr. Brad said, picking up his bonsai tree and Bertie's suitcase. “If you will excuse me, ladies, I'll be talking to you later, Sammie.”

  “Me too,” Bertie said. “I'm sure we're all going to see a lot of each other.”

  “I'm looking forward to it.” Aunt Sam replied cheerfully, waving to them as they disappeared through the door.

  After they left, I turned to Aunt Sam. “Well, that was … something,” I said. “I didn't know Dr. Brad had a sister.”

  “Yes, Bertie lives in some small town in rural Minnesota, I forget the name, with her husband Herb Doylett,” Aunt Sam said. “Herb and his family own a string of bowling alleys up there called Doylett Bowl.”

  “So what's Herb like? Is he really as bad as Bertie says?”

  “Actually, I've never met Herb. I've only met Bertie once, when she came down here about five or six years ago to visit Brad, and Herb didn't come with her. Brad usually goes up to Minnesota every few years to see her around Thanksgiving or Christmas. To hear him tell it, the Doylett family is a pretty dreary and melodramatic group. That's probably why he doesn't visit more often.”

  “Probably. I hope Bertie's able to work things out with her husband. I feel sorry for her.”

  “Yes, and I feel more sorry for Brad. Bertie's a sweet woman and her heart is in the right place, but a little of her goes a long way. And with Brad being so set in his ways, living with Bertie is going to be... interesting.” Aunt Sam looked at her watch. “Oh, I'd better go. I was supposed to call my accountant half an hour ago. Some question about my taxes. I don't know why he's asking me; he's the one with all my receipts. You'll excuse me dear?”

  Sure,” I said. “Good luck.”

  It was only after the door had closed behind her that I dawned on me that Aunt Sam had gotten out of the room before I could resume our conversation about the children's talent contest. She probably didn't even have an accountant! I slapped my forehead. Aunt Sam had done it again. Well, she couldn't hide forever and we were definitely going to continue our conversation, but right now I was hungry. I hadn't had lunch yet, so I headed to the kitchen. The door was unlocked this time and Dodie was at the stove.

  “Well?” Dodie asked. “Did you get out of judging the contest?”

  “It's a work in progress.”

  “I knew it! Ain't nobody got the best of Aunt Sam yet.”

  “This isn't over!” I said indignantly. “I'm just taking a break for lunch. You can hardly expect me to match wits with Aunt Sam on an empty stomach.”

  “I guess that's fair. Randa Lynn up at the cafe in town made some pepperoni bread and cheese-stuffed olives for her Archie Gras booth, and she sent some along for us to try. Help yourself.”

  That sounded pretty good, so I made an egg salad sandwich on the pepperoni bread. I grabbed some olives stuffed with blue cheese and a dill pickle spear and sat down at the table. Dodie poured me a glass of peach tea while I attacked the sandwich and tried to think of a way to get out of judging the contest. By the time I had finished, I hadn't arrived at any solutions, but I was full, so I decided to call it a win.