Donna E

GOAL: Joanna Bannister goal is to stay in New York, never to return to her hometown in Hickory Oaks, Missouri. Introduce protagonist Joanna; Joanna’s stepdaughter Chauncy and her brother Sam, along with Lucia her food truck helper, antagonist, Sheriff William (Billy) Morgan IV, and the phone call that moves plot forward and throws Joanna’s life into chaos.

SETTING:  Opening Day in Central Park of her new business, The Perfect Picknicker

TONE: From cheerful and happy to one filled with dread, fear, anxiety

FORESHADOW: Questions: What choices and mistakes had Joanna made and why? Why didn’t Sam come for her opening? Why did she leave home and why? Why does Chauncy call her mother Joanna? Who was the guy who went to jail for her assault? Why did Billy testify on her behalf? How did he become sheriff? Who was his father that had the means to get Billy out of trouble, and why did he do it?  

This was the day Joanna Bannister had longed for. Finally, she felt as if her life were on track. Unlike with her other choices and mistakes, this one felt right. Perfect. The decision to open her mobile food truck, The Perfect Picnicker, in Manhattan Central Park was her dream come true.

She hummed “New Day Dawning” by Wynonna as she raised the awning and turned on the flashing sign.  

“And . . . we are open!”  

Joanna took in the activity all around. Locals and visitors alike were taking full advantage of the last cool, crisp, sun-filled skyline and the final explosion of majestic colors of the park trees. People meandered along the park walkways and leisurely relaxed on quilts taking in the New York skyline.  “

Couldn’t ask for a better day,” Lucia said.

“Long time coming,” Joanna said. “And from now on, I intend to make the most of it right here.” She’d made her fair share of choices—and mistakes. Mistakes she did not intend to make again. “I just wish Sam would have come.”  

“Then why not take him up on his invitation to visit him?” Lucia said.

Joanna shook her head. “No.” She’d refused his invite to come back home to Missouri. The place she’d left. Had vowed never to return. “Today, I’m going to make the best of my new life. So, let’s get this show on the road.”

*

Throughout the day, the phone rang constantly. She and Lucia and daughter Chauncy filled non-stop orders for picnic baskets, the iconic New York Hotdogs and the infamous Pastrami-on-Rye sandwiches. She couldn’t have asked for anything better.  

Again, the phone rang. “I can’t get that,” Joanna said. “Got to catch up with these orders.”

“Me neither,” Lucia said.

“Chauncy?” her mother said. “Get that, will you?”

“Well, since I’m working for free, Joanna,” Chauncy said, “I’m not answering it.” She turned back to the window, all sweet and accommodating to the next person in line. The girl could turn her sweetness off and on like magic.

Joanna gritted her teeth and picked up the phone. She answered with an upbeat voice. “Hello, The Perfect Picknicker; this is Joanna. How can I help you?”   

“Just the woman I wanted to talk to,” a man said. His voice gruff, his words, more like a snarl, shocked Joanna. She hesitated. That voice . . . strangely familiar. An uneasiness washed over her. Nonsense, she said to herself. Just my first day’s jitters.

“Thank you for calling. What would you like to order, sir?” Joanna hugged the phone between her ear and shoulder and grabbed an order pad. Nothing was going to dampen her spirits. Not today.

The man laughed. “I don’t want to order anything.”  

Silence followed.

“I’m sorry?”

“Just what I said.”

Irritation washed over Joanna. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.” In a snap, Joanna slammed down the phone.  

Damned pranksters.

“Was that another order?” Chauncy said.

“No, some kid with nothing better—”

The phone rang again.  

“Damn.” Joanna blew out an exasperated breath. This time she looked at the number. The phone continued to ring. Sam?  

Chauncy handed her mother another order.

“You going to answer that?”  

Joanna picked up the phone. “Sam, I’m so glad—”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Joanna. It’s not nice to hang up on an old friend.”

Confused, Joanna frowned and pulled the phone away from her ear. She was right. The call came from her brother’s phone. The muscles in Joanna neck contracted like a tightwire ready to snap. “Who is this?”

“Why, Joanna Keller, I’m hurt you don’t recognize me.”

“Look, mister . . . I don’t have time for your games.” She flung the order her daughter had just given her onto the counter. She clinched her fist around the receiver. “So, either tell me who the hell you are and why you have my brother’s phone, or I’m hanging up.”

At the tone of her voice, Lucia and Chauncy looked over at her in surprise.

“A-a-a-h, there she is. The Joanna I remember.”

And there it was. That voice. From so long ago.  

Joanna’s voice flattened. “Billy Morgan.” The hometown bully, and an old nemesis. She wanted to reach through the phone and clock the guy. Just like her brother had done when he decked the brute and broke his nose when they were in high school. Joanna wanted to hang up but couldn’t. Why does Billy have Sam’s phone?

Before she could ask, Billy continued. “Actually, I don’t go by Billy anymore. Infantile name, really. It’s William. William Morgan.” Now, as a matter of fact, it’s Sheriff William Morgan. Has a nice ring, doesn’t it?”

Joanna seethed, then remembered he was calling from her brother’s phone.  “Look—”

“Now, now, Joanna. Do you, or don’t you want to know why I’m calling from Sam’s phone?”

Joanna didn’t answer. That terrible phone call about her parents unexpected deaths resurfaced. No, not Sam.

“That’s what I thought. I called you from Sam’s phone ’cause it’s the only way I knew how to get hold of you. You left in such a rush. Remember? And, in case you’re interested, I have some news. News you might want to hear.” Billy sniggered. “Actually, I have two bits of news.”

Anything good had never spouted from Billy Morgan’s mouth.  

“Where’s Sam?” Joanna held her breath.

The next words out of his mouth seared her soul like a hot poker.

Without any manner of sympathy, he spit them out.  “Your brother, he’s dead.”  

Joanna leaned against the counter and hung her head. He’s lying. I just spoke with him the other day.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing. You remember that guy I testified against on your behalf? The one who supposedly assaulted you? Well, he’s out. Poor guy did the whole fifteen years. Thanks to you. “Guess it’s a good thing you are in The Big Apple instead of here in little old Hickory Oaks. He just might be looking for revenge.”

Joanna’s tears spilled onto the counter.