Lucy’s mind was miles away, trying to think of a tactic that would get Sara to open up, when she arrived at the outlet mall with three hundred and sixty individually-wrapped gourmet dog biscuits. The sale was scheduled to start at nine, when the mall opened but now, at a few minutes past eight, Chris was already setting up tables.
“Hi, Lucy,” she said, greeting Lucy with a big smile. “I see you’re another early bird.”
“I had to drop my daughter off at the high school. The big Northport game is today and she’s a cheerleader.”
“They grow up fast, don’t they?” said Chris. “I’m trying to decide if public school will be challenging enough for Pear and Apple or whether I should start researching private schools.”
“The public school’s the only game in town, unless you’re considering the Christian academy run by the Revelation Congregation.”
“Christian academy?” Chris was laying colorful sheets over the tables. “I guess that would be okay. We’re Episcopalian.”
“They don’t believe in evolution,” explained Lucy. “They teach something called intelligent design.”
Chris’s eyebrows shot up. “That would hardly prepare Apple and Pear for Harvard or Duke,” she said.
“Hardly,” agreed Lucy. “Where do you want the dog biscuits?”
“At the far end,” said Chris. “There are some signs in my car—would you mind getting them?”
Lucy followed Chris’s instructions and found a stack of professional-looking signs in the back of her SUV. She was carrying them back when she met Frankie, who was toting a big basket of madeleines.
“Oh, Lucy, I’m glad to see you. I can really use some help. My house was the collection point for Prudence Path so my car is full of baked goods.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t like to think how many calories are in there.”
“It’s a pity the car can’t run on them, considering the price of gas,” joked Lucy, placing the signs on the table and heading back to the parking lot. She was carrying several baskets of granola bars when she noticed Sue speeding into the parking lot in her enormous Suburban. She’d stuck a sign in the back window that said: “Yummy Treats. Follow me to the bake sale.”
“Am I late?” she called, leaning out the window.
“No. We’re just setting up.”
“Great. I’ve got Rachel and Pam’s cookies, too. They’re on the afternoon shift.”
“That’s right,” said Chris, consulting her clipboard. “Along with Willie and Bonnie. There are only four in the afternoon because I figured it would be slower.” She was checking off names. “Everybody’s here except Mimi.” She looked at Frankie. “Do you have her Yummy Pumpkin Kisses?”
Frankie shook her head. “No. She was the only one who didn’t bring her cookies over.”
“Did you call her?” demanded Chris.
“No. I figured she’d bring them herself since she was on the morning shift.”
Chris’s tone was accusatory and the sinews in her neck were showing. “Well, she’s not here and the sale is due to start in five minutes.”
People were already starting to gather at the sale tables, attracted no doubt by the aroma of freshly-brewed coffee. Chris had borrowed a huge pot used for the coffee hour that followed Sunday morning services at her church and it was proving a big draw.
“Well, we have to open up without her,” said Frankie, with a shrug. “These people aren’t going to wait forever and we don’t want to lose them to the food court.”
“We need Mimi,” insisted Chris, a note of panic in her voice. “There are too many people. We’re not going to be able to manage without her.”
“Calm down,” said Lucy. “It’s a bake sale. People will understand.”
Chris was checking her watch. “I know. We’ve got a few minutes before we officially open. Lucy, will you go and see what’s keeping Mimi—and her Yummy Pumpkin Kisses?”
“Me?” Lucy was reluctant; she was hardly on the best of terms with Mimi.
“I think it would be best,” snapped Chris. “After all, Sue doesn’t know where she lives and her car is a good advertisement for the sale. Frankie’s already pouring coffee and I need to stay and make sure everything runs smoothly.”
“Okay,” said Lucy, overwhelmed by her argument. “When you put it that way…”
“We don’t have time for this,” snapped Chris, losing patience. “Just go and get back as fast as you can. We need all the help we can get.”
It was true. The people in the line were definitely getting restless. One man had even commented, quite loudly, that the service was better at Dunkin’ Donuts.
“I’ll be as fast as I can,” she promised, running to her car.
Her heart was pounding and she was out of breath when she started the engine and spun out of the parking lot. It was the squeal of the tires that brought her to her senses. She’d never left rubber in her life and she wasn’t about to start now, not for a bake sale. Chris was a tad overwrought, she thought, slowing to a sedate and legal thirty miles per hour. Just because she was a frustrated housewife who missed her high-powered executive job didn’t mean everybody had to go along for the ride as she turned a simple bake sale into an emotional roller coaster. You’d think she was on some TV reality show or something but as far as Lucy knew Donald Trump wasn’t coming to Tinker’s Cove to point his finger and announce “You’re fired!” if the bake sale didn’t meet its goal.
She was tempted, in fact, to turn right around and go back to the bake sale. She didn’t like being Chris’s messenger girl and she didn’t like checking up on Mimi. The woman worked in the town hall, after all; she’d probably been called in to work an extra shift because somebody was sick or something. Or maybe she had a family emergency. Or maybe she’d decided to go and see Tommy play his first JV game. Whatever it was it wasn’t any of Lucy’s business and she felt uncomfortable playing truant officer.