Dear readers, tonight we reprint a newspaper article, where a local reporter had interviewed the protagonist. The subject of the article is here to talk about working at a cheese festival in a small Vermont town, desperately trying to avoid talking about the dead body that appeared.

Reading The Room: An Afternoon With Laura Evans

The General Store’s new café manager arrived in Silver Springs earlier this month. Then a festival started with a body in the stables. The Maplewood Memo sat down with the woman who found the body, helped catch the killer, and somewhere in between started to feel like she belonged.

By Sharon Winters, Editor • Photography by Tash Sinclair • Weekend Edition

***

Laura Evans doesn’t so much enter a room as read it.

Watch her for five minutes at the General Store café’s counter and you’ll see it: the glance at the couple by the window before she refills their water. The glance toward the kitchen before the chef has had a chance to ring the bell. The quiet redirection of a young parent toward the safer of two booths.

She does it without fuss. Easy to miss, if you’re not paying attention.

I’d intended to do this interview at the Memo’s office. Evans suggested the café instead. “It’s where I’m most at home,” she said. “And I’ll be less nervous if I can make the coffee.”

Fair enough, I suppose.

Let’s Start With The Obvious. You’re Not From Here.

No. Boston, originally. I moved here… goodness, it’s only been a month or so, hasn’t it? (A laugh.)

Long enough that people expect me to know my way around. Short enough that I still blank sometimes when customers ask what aisle the granola is in. So… somewhere in between.

You Were A Restaurant Manager.

Yes, for fifteen years at a place called Hargroves. It was… a business that teaches you everything, and then keeps teaching you, whether you want it to or not. (A small smile.)

I’m grateful for every bit of it. I’m also grateful to be working in an environment that offers… more grace..

And Your Grandmother Suggested Vermont.

Silvia. My grandmother, yes. She used to bring my brothers and me here during the summers when I was young: we’d drive up from Boston together, and she knew everyone. I thought I was just visiting a pretty town. Looking back now… maybe she was planting something. She’d pretend otherwise, obviously.

When things fell apart at Hargroves, she suggested a move to Silver Springs.

She’d picked the apartment, she’d described Evelyn’s cats in enough detail I recognized them before I met them, and she’d mentioned the café in a way that just seemed so inviting.

I don’t think I stood a chance.

Let’s Talk About The Trouble At The Festival.

I’d rather not, if that’s alright. Someone… lost their life. That’s the part I keep coming back to. Detective Sergeant Ramirez is the right person for the rest of that conversation, not me.

Fair. Then Tell Me What The Festival Days Were Like, Not The Investigation.

Busy. That’s the honest answer. I’d been at the store for a matter of weeks. When things got complicated, the routine didn’t stop. People still needed lunch. The espresso machine still needed descaling.

I think that’s what I remember most. Everyone just… kept showing up.

Detective Sergeant Ramirez kept things professional. Jasmine made sure nobody forgot to eat. And Evelyn… kept asking the right questions, in the right order, until I could think straight again.

Evelyn Chan. Tell Me About Her.

(A smile.) Where would I even start? Evelyn is… well… technically, my landlady. That’s how she’d put it.

In practice, she’s the person who somehow knows when I’ve had a tiring day, turns up at my door with food, and introduces me to half the town before I’ve finished saying hello. And invites me over on the pretense that her cats want to see me. Oscar and Monty. Though I think they genuinely do.

If anyone made me feel welcome, it was her.

Jasmine Williams?

Jasmine. My first friend here. I’m still amazed by how quickly we’ve become friends.

She helps run the retail side, and somehow also makes sure nobody at the café goes without a proper lunch. She double majored in literature and food science, which shouldn’t work and absolutely does, and she has opinions about maple syrup I’ve completely inherited.

She… let me be new without making me feel it. If that makes sense?

You’re Describing A Soft Landing.

I suppose I am. People here were considerate before I’d done anything to earn it. Most newcomers have to find their community. Mine found me first.

I’m still trying to figure out how to return the favor, but Evelyn keeps telling me the favor is letting people help. She’s almost annoyingly wise about that sort of thing.

Did You Always See Things This Clearly? The Noticing. The Reading Rooms.

I don’t know. And I think everyone puts more weight on it than it deserves. It’s just a habit, really.

You learn what the body language of the people at a table looks like before a complaint. What a kitchen sounds like before chaos. Who at the bar is waiting for someone, and who’s working up to leaving alone.

After a while, you can’t turn it off.

Which, I realize, makes me sound like I’m always watching people, which… isn’t quite what I mean.

And The Town Should Be Glad About It.

(A small smile.) I suppose? Though a town like this always has someone noticing. I was just… there.

What’s The Hardest Part About Being New?

Being grateful without becoming a burden. Silver Springs has been very kind to me.

People share, they check in, food arrives when you’ve had a bad week, often before you’ve told anyone you’ve had a bad week. The temptation is to accept all of that and never offer back, because you think you don’t have anything they’d want. I’m learning. Slowly.

The Easiest?

The evening, honestly. There’s a particular quiet after the café closes, when the espresso machine has stopped hissing and the last chair is up on the last table. I set things right for tomorrow and just…decompress.

What Do You Miss About Boston?

Gran’s kitchen. A particular bagel place I won’t name because if you print it, they’ll put their prices up. (A small shrug.) I miss the idea of Boston more than I miss Boston, if that makes sense. Which it probably doesn’t, but there it is.

Favorite Things? Sentimental, I Know. The Memo Owes Its Readers The Small Questions.

Coffee, obviously. An Americano with cream. Books, when I can stay awake. I’m working my way through a copy of Emma Gran gave me, and I hope Jane Austen would forgive me for my slowness.

I like crocheting, walking, and cooking for myself… which I actually have time for now. It’s so… surreal.

Favorite Color?

Deep teal. It reminds me of the skies at night and the lakes around here.

Pet Peeves, Evans. Everyone Has Them. What Are Yours?

(A longer pause.) I feel like anything I say here is going to sound uncharitable.

But… I really struggle with people who use their reputation like a weapon. And people who take things out on staff because they know staff can’t answer back. They’re the only things that really get me.

That, and cheese that’s been refrigerated too cold to taste of anything.

What Does The Future Hold?

A quieter season. Hopefully. A new fall menu I’m excited about. A first proper Vermont winter. Everyone keeps warning me about the snow, and I’m starting to take them seriously.

Evelyn’s been gently suggesting I come to Friends of the Library, and Martha has informed me the Good Neighbor Guild needs another pair of hands for Meals That Matter.

Beyond that… I don’t know. I’m looking forward to finding out.

One Last Question. What Surprised You About Your First Month Here?

Perhaps I should say it was the more difficult bits. Really… it was how quickly the café filled back up afterward. People showed up for their usual orders. They asked how I was and meant it.

I think that’s what I’d want people to know about Silver Springs.

It’s a town that looks after its own. I came here to start over, which I knew how to do. I didn’t expect to be… found. Which is a strange word for it, maybe. But it’s the one that keeps coming to mind.

***

As I gathered my notebook, Evans was already on her feet, wiping a table that didn’t need it, then was back in service, tending to a regular before they’d even caught her eye.

A subtle kindness. The thing a town notices if it’s paying attention. Silver Springs, I think, has been.

Laura Evans is the General Store’s café manager. The Summer Cheese Festival returns next year.


Jodie’s books welcome readers to the charming Silver Springs Mysteries in Vermont, filled with intriguing puzzles, memorable characters, and the satisfying solutions readers love. When she’s not plotting her next book, you’ll find her reading, savoring a coffee or doing her latest knitting or crochet project. She loves to travel as it sparks ideas for her stories. Her most satisfying creative moments come from quiet evenings at home with her family.

You can find Laura on the pages of Murder At The Summer Cheese Festival or the other Silver Springs Mysteries.

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