And Scene.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Your gossip steward is returning.

After being sidelined for some time in writing and editing purgatory, I’m managing to wile my way back into Middle Valley society – at least somewhat. Two nights on a barstool at the Riverside will get you that far, at least. Tonight is the third, because we all know your girl needs to get caught up …

The biggest change since last we spoke? Ms. Wanda Moreno is our Mayor! And, may I just say, thank you, Lord. That outta-towner – hard to remember her name at this point, though I do (Charlotte) – was just too much. Just too much, I must say. Who does she think she is, coming in here and making a fuss? I guess I’m just glad she wasn’t on the Lady Luxe some years ago on Paul’s most fateful night … I think THAT would have made it an even bigger fiasco.

Which brings us to our former sheriff, dear Paul. Struck down in the prime of his life, depending on who you ask, of course. To my left on this night is Old Man Martin, in for an early beer on account of his roosters having an early go every morning. He wouldn’t mind seeing Paul pay the price for his transgressions, he says, which prompts an outcry from one Edith Coresdale, one of the seamstresses at Buggy Pants, who happens to be sitting to my right.

“My brother is a gambler,” she says, her eyes brimming with tears. “Damn near ruined him.”

“What’s his game?” I ask, unsure if I want to know the answer.

“Ponies, slots, cards – you name it,” she says, then pauses to collect herself. “It is, without a doubt, a disease, and I for one hope Paul gets the help he needs. He’s been so kind to my Gary over the years, not a single parking ticket even though his car basically lives in the loading zone in front of our house. Not a one. Imagine if he’d actually given us one, ‘cause if he gives us one, he has to give us 70.”

She folds her hands in her lap and looks down, glances up toward Cassie and raises her hand.

“I’m ready,” she says.

“What are you drinkin’?” Martin asks her.

“Gin on ice,” she says.

“Well, if that don’t beat all,” he says, looking past me. “Cassie, make it two.”

I take that as my cue to mingle. (Imagine the headline … Sheriff Paul Brings Farmer, Seamstress Together. Film at 11.)

Oh I just love romance, even if it takes place directly over my drink.

On that night, I manage to slip into the dining room to see our old friend, John, dining with HIS old friend, Bernie, heads down, slicing furiously into their sirloins. I don’t dare interrupt that conversation.

Of course, we now know that Silas is sticking around the Valley. I know that’s welcome news to my new neighbor, Mercury, who, by the way, has outdone herself by sending gift baskets to me and the other two tenants out back. You can tell that woman was raised with class.

And speaking of class, Ms. Bitsy remains, as always, the beating heart of our mini-berg here. Taking in Cassie’s sister, Jill, working for Wanda as she fulfills her civic duties, and now, I hear, pushing the Riverside into the 21st century.

Yes, change is afoot in this beautiful building. Just who will be making those changes, we are not yet sure (they haven’t awarded the bid) but if I were a betting person, I’d say it’ll be more than one outfit.

I cruise through the bar once more, my notebook full and my head swimming with information. I step out into the Fall breeze as the sun sets over the Valley. I can see inside Old Man Martin still working it with Edith at the bar. Roosters be damned, I suppose.

I turn toward home and walk slowly into the breeze.