Buzz Off

Thirty-three

Friday morning, my sister did not arrive in time to help open The Wild Clover per Mom’s orders, which wasn’t much of a surprise. Between working the cash register and giving everybody updates on Carrie Ann’s health, the robbery, and the dead woman’s earring found on my desk, I had a hectic few hours without her.
Not to mention all the effort of trying to reverse certain reputation-damaging rumors. Holly would be proud of me. Not that I was going to tell her that I had bought into the gossip to the point that I thought Grace had murdered Manny to be with Clay.
Holly did manage to walk in the door by ten o’clock, one whole hour earlier than her regular shift. By then Ray Goodwin had already made a large delivery, in spite of my constant reminders to deliver after three o’clock in the afternoon when strong young male workers were around to help stock shelves. Ray seemed to hate anything smacking of authority and so instead, wasted time doing the opposite of whatever he was asked to do. He had a you-aren’t-the-boss-of-me attitude, which clearly hadn’t taken him very far, career-wise.
“Did you pick up that honey from Grace’s?” I asked him.
“Didn’t know you needed it right this minute.” He put special emphasis on the last word like I was nagging him.
“I don’t really, but soon, okay?”
Ray shrugged. “I’ll get to it.”
I rolled my eyes and went back inside. “Call over to the Craigs,” I said to Holly, noting how great she looked. Rested and carefree. “See if one of the twins can come in early to help stock, ASAP.”
Holly gazed at the boxes of produce still waiting to be moved to the bins and shelves and nodded. “Better them than me. I didn’t sign on to do heavy lifting.”
“Right. Since the boxes are strategically placed right next to where they need to go, you must be referring to hefting those two-ton tomatoes from box to bin.”
“That’s right.”
“I love you,” I said, surprising myself. I floored Holly, too, because she stopped and stared. “I couldn’t have managed this last week without you,” I told her.
I’ve never seen my sister smile quite that wide. “Thanks. It’s nice to be appreciated.”
“Don’t I know it,” I agreed. “Hey, guess what? Hunter and I have a date tomorrow night.”
“I knew something was up! Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.” Which was true. We hadn’t discussed it. Saturday night was coming up fast and I had a real date. Where we went didn’t matter one bit.
Lori showed up for her two or three items as usual, making her one of our daily customers, which had to be intentional on her part. The woman was so annoying, she liked to irritate me on a regular basis.
“Any luck selling Manny’s home?” I asked her, really hoping this particular sale went nowhere. Manny hadn’t wanted to sell and I wished everybody would respect his wishes, at least for a while.
“As a matter of fact, I am negotiating a deal on the Chapman property,” Lori gloated. “But I can’t talk about it at the moment.”
“Then why are you?” Holly said, earning a glare from Lori.
“Who’s making the offer?” I wanted to know.
“You wouldn’t know the name.”
“Try me.”
“Confidential information,” Lori said, flouncing toward the door. “Once the deal is done, you’ll be one of the first to know.”
I called Grace.
“I want to rectify any wrongs,” I said to Grace when she answered her phone. I wanted to ask her about selling out, but first I had to mend fences. “Once and for all, I want to squash both rumors going around—the one about you and the one about me. And I’d like your help.”
“What rumor about me?”
I took a deep breath and plowed in. “That you and Clay were having an affair.”
“Are you spreading lies about me?” Her voice had risen to a range unknown to humankind. “Haven’t you done enough damage?”
“NO! Wait! It was P. P. Patti who’s been spreading it, after she saw you at Clay’s house. But I know why you went there and I’m going to fix the damage Patti did.”
“How? Are you going to tell people the real truth? That I only went to Clay because I wanted honesty about you and Manny and I thought he might answer my questions? Maybe you could start with telling me the truth about you and my husband.”
This wasn’t going well.
“Patti started that one, too. She’s a menace, destroying families and relationships. Manny was my friend and that’s as far as it ever went. He loved you.”
Grace started crying.
“Look,” I said, “I’ll get Patti to tell you the truth, that she started the rumor and that it was all a lie. Okay?”
I thought I heard her say “okay,” before she hung up, but her voice was so low and so anguished, I wasn’t sure whether she’d agreed to my plan.


Honeybees work together in fine-tuned harmony, making sure their hives are functioning as they should. Humans could learn a few things from watching bees, since we spend as much time hurting each other as helping.
When a field bee comes in carrying pollen in her leg pouches, worker bees meet her at the entryway and help her unload. They don’t have to be asked to pitch in. They just do it. Teamwork. Flowers and bees also form partnerships, helping each other out. The flower gives pollen to the honeybee so she can make food for her hive. The flower benefits when her pollen is moved along to other flowers for fertilization.
Teamwork. That’s what I was hoping for.
Grace, Patti, and I sat in a tight circle inside the storage room, almost bumping knees. Grace wore pain and suffering on her plain face. Patti sported bold righteousness, and I was just plain worn out from pettiness and unnecessary lies when bigger, more dangerous events were playing out beneath the surface.
“As you know, we are here to speak the truth,” I said. “Patti, you saw Grace go into Clay’s house.”
“That’s right.”
“And you told people that she was having an affair with him.”
Patti squirmed. Not much, but I saw it in her eyes. The left/right thing she did when she felt cornered. “No,” she said. “I didn’t say anything of the kind.”
“See?” Grace said.
“Patti, you tell Grace the truth or I swear, I’ll never speak to you again.”
What I wanted to say was I would kill her with my bare hands in front of witnesses.
“You don’t mean that!” Patti said. “And I am telling the truth.”
“Oh, yes, I do mean it. And you won’t be welcome in The Wild Clover. Come on, Grace needs to know. Tell her.”
Patti crossed her arms and set her jaw.
“You watched her through your telescope,” I prompted.
That made Grace sit up and take notice. “You have a telescope?” she asked Patti.
“For bird watching,” Patti said.
And peeping-Patti-ing, I thought, but didn’t say. Instead I said, “Clay can tell you all about how she spies on him with her stupid telescope.”
Grace pushed her chair back to get up. I gripped her arm. “Please don’t go yet.” I tried not to sound pleading, but I think I failed. Grace sat back down, though.
“Now then,” I said, trying a different tactic. “Grace heard a rumor about Manny and me. Could we at least clear that up?”
“Okay,” Patti said, still wary.
“Please tell Grace it isn’t true.”
“But it is.”
I glared at Patti. My efforts to put things right had taken a left turn and were going south. “You can’t really believe that!” I said.
“I believe my eyes,” Patti said. “They never lie.”
“You are totally making that up. Manny and I were never together in a romantic way.”
Patti gave me a glare back. “Then why did he come up from the river and sneak up to your house?”
My mouth dropped open.
Grace got up and left, slamming the door to the storage room when she left.
I went for Patti but fell over Grace’s chair, landing in the center of the circle of chairs.
Patti yelled for help when I sprang back up. Perhaps she saw the murderous look in my eyes because she hit me with her purse, which must have been loaded with thousands of heavy coins. I sat back down, but only for a second.
I staggered to my feet and grabbed the front of her top, hearing a rip.
My sister rushed in and wrestled me down.
Then I remembered what Stu had told me about Manny taking his canoe out on the river.
By then Patti had disappeared, running for her life.