Mrs. MacAdoo

This is an entry in the Crazy Cozy Blogfest by Hart Johnson and Elizabeth Spann Craig in celebration of their cozy mystery releases today (June 5)!

I recently created this character for a contest. She’s perfect for a cozy mystery! Here is her description:

1) Sleuth – Mrs. MacAdoo is a widow, mid 60’s, lives alone, completely oblivious to her accident proness, and a total busy body authority. has a crush on her crotchety widower neighbor. one successful son who she still babies when he’s around and brags on when he’s not; he’s recently married and has a baby son as well.
2) Sidekick – her cat, who is deathly afraid of her but with whom she figures everything out, everyone knows her so this part will change from story to story
3) Setting – small town outside of London
4) Theme – Mrs. MacAdoo is quite active, volunteers, heads committees, and loves to do swim aerobics and teaches self defense classes
5) Twist – Mrs. MacAdoo stumbles into victims and accidentally solves mysteries for them. 

This first short story is just about her. The description took all my words, so you don't have to read on, unless you're interested =)

And thanks for the fest! You've inspired me to want to start a series on her!

Mrs. MacAdoo Goes to Post

“There, there, Winnifred. Mummy will be back soon.”

Mrs. MacAdoo pet the squirming cat in her arms as it arched its back and hissed.

“Ooo. See a mouse, do you? Go for him!”

The cat leapt down and sped away.

“Silly cat. Never catches a thing.”

Mrs. MacAdoo adjusted her lavender hat with the yellow flowers in the foyer mirror. With matching purse at her elbow, she picked up the carefully wrapped parcel by its strings and her green umbrella. You never can tell about the weather.

After properly checking the lock on her door, she noticed the postman at the white picket fence in front of her house.

“Hello, Charles. Lovely day.”

“Yes, Mrs. MacAdoo. Off to deliver a parcel?”

“How observant of you, Charles,” she said, lowering her chin and raising her brows at him. “No junk mail today, please.” She pointed her umbrella at his nose.

“You know I can’t tamper with the mail, Mrs. MacAdoo,” he answered and ducked.

“Ah, well. Must be off.” She swung open the gate and smacked him in the knees. The postman, avoiding her high umbrella, lost his balance and fell on his rump.

“Oh, Charles. You should be more careful,” Mrs. MacAdoo said after judging him to be all right and passed him down the sidewalk.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. MacAdoo!” her neighbor called from an open window.

“Hello, Mrs. Canopy. How is Melvin?” Mrs. MacAdoo stopped and raised her hand to shade her eyes.

“Recovering quite nicely. Thank you for asking.”

“Excellent news, my dear.” Mrs. MacAdoo walked on with a wave of her umbrella, which brushed a tree, causing a bird to fly out of it and right into Mrs. Canopy’s window. A squawking mess ensued.

Mrs. MacAdoo quickened her pace and reached the bus stop just in time. After stepping on, the driver shut the doors.

“Could you be a dear?” Mrs. MacAdoo asked a passenger in the front to mind her things while she searched through her purse for the fare. She pulled out a coin and displayed it to the driver and passengers with a triumphant smile. She aimed for the slot.

The bus took a bump and she missed. Everyone watched the coin drop under the driver’s feet. Mrs. MacAdoo bent down to hands and knees to find it.

“That’s okay, Mum. I can get it later,” the driver said.

“But I can see it.”

“Ooo, hoo hoo! Please go sit down.”

Mrs. MacAdoo got up with her prize and put it in the slot. “There,” she said and gave him a nod.

The driver grimaced as she collected her things and walked down the aisle. Mrs. MacAdoo took a seat next to a spiky-haired, multi-pierced youth. She proceeded to initiate a one sided conversation on the dangers of drugs. The boy pulled his hood down and turned up his music. At the conclusion of her speech, Mrs. MacAdoo noticed she had missed her stop. She stood up and pushed the button, knocking the lad under the chin with her umbrella.

Jerking to a stop, the bus driver gladly let Mrs. MacAdoo out. When she touched down on the sidewalk, she turned back to wave her thanks and a speeding bicycle delivery boy had to swerve around her, crashing into a sidewalk café table.

Mrs. MacAdoo walked the other direction to the post office. Inside, there was a long line. As she took her place at the end, she spoke to the lady in front of her.

“My, this parcel is heavy.”

“That’s marvelous! You should go ahead,” the lady said into her phone.

“Why thank you. How nice.” Mrs. MacAdoo stepped ahead of her. The lady looked puzzled, but let it be.

“Excuse me. Do you have the time?” Mrs. MacAdoo asked the next man.

“2:15, Ma’am.”

“Oh, that will never do,” said Mrs. MacAdoo and banged the tip of her umbrella on the floor. But it wasn’t the floor.

“Owwee!”

“Are you all right, Sir?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Why don’t you go ahead of me.”

“How kind. What a gentleman.”

Mrs. MacAdoo continued in this manner, bypassing all the waiting customers, until she reached the front. The postal worker recognized her and waved.

“Ah, Mrs. MacAdoo. Another package for Mr. Yetzl?” He leaned in and whispered. “What color is it this week?”

Mrs. MacAdoo blushed. “Blue.”

“He’ll be very happy to receive it.”

“You are too kind.”

Mrs. MacAdoo finished her transaction and left with a trail of fallen packages and startled outbursts in her wake.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“What an odd bird,” said the next customer.

“Mrs. MacAdoo? Sweetest widow you’ll ever meet. Comes in every week to send a hand knit sweater to her neighbor.”

“Why doesn’t she just give it to him?”

“She is his secret admirer,” he said with a wink.