“Ewww.No. Nothing’s wrong, I was just checking in.” I decided not to push her further. She sounded a little grumpy.
“Then I’ll talk to you at a more suitable time.” And she hung up. Miss Emily, my friend who’d left me the house, had always ended her conversations the same way. If she was done talking, the phone got hung up. No good-bye or have a nice day, just dead air.
The morning went slow. Dense fog was a walk-in-traffic killer. The locals stayed home, choosing to brew their own and stay in their jammies on days like this. Hopefully the fog would burn off by midday and we’d get a few customers. So after I finished last night’s list of chores and this morning’s, I still hadn’t had a customer. I made myself a mocha with extra whipped cream, grabbed a Western off the shelf that I’d been meaning to read anyway, and got lost in the wild, wild Old West. The author was funny, but the description kept me deep into the story. I almost didn’t hear the bell over the door go off.
I pulled myself back to reality and looked up at the clock. Ten twenty and my first Saturday customers had arrived. Aunt Jackie and I really needed to talk about “winter hours.” I stuck in a bookmark to keep my place and walked back to the counter, my book and cup in hand.
“What a charming little store,” the redheaded woman gushed to her friend. “I’m so glad you made me come early for the event.”
The women were dressed in jeans and black T-shirts. I guess that was their memorial attire. And, to their credit, it wasn’t a funeral, so the dress code could run a little more casual. I stepped up to the counter. “What can I get for you?”
“Two large black coffees.” The woman leaned toward the dessert case. “You got anything gluten-free in there? I’m really craving a treat.”
I glanced at the Black Forest, New York, and Wild Berry cheesecake in the display. I knew cookies were off the agenda, but maybe cheesecake qualified. “I’m not sure. I have a nice fruit cup that you might like.”
“That’s the first thing everyone offers, a fruit cup. You know there are ways to make desserts gluten-free. Like a flourless chocolate cake.” The other woman looked out the window. “This is why we were so excited for Kacey’s new business to open up. She totally understood dietary restrictions. I’ve lost so much weight by just watching my diet closer.”
“Me too. Kacey was a treasure trove of information about the subject.” The redhead nodded. “Once I heard her tell a story about how one day she had to be rushed to the hospital because she ate an apple that she sliced with a knife that husband of hers had used to make himself a sandwich. She took way too many risks living with that jerk.”
“He probably did something stupid this time and his thoughtlessness killed her.” The other woman sniffed. “You know he never took her health into consideration.”
“I told her to stay away from him, but no. She was so happy when he started sniffing around her again,” the other woman added.
I assumed they’d forgotten I was even here, as I finished pouring the coffee and put lids and sleeves on the cups. “So, about that fruit cup?”
The redhead looked at me. “Whatever. That will work if you don’t have anything else.”
“I’ll ask my supplier if she can provide a better alternative. She makes a lot of desserts for not only me, but for the diner down the street.” I grabbed two of the fruit cups and keyed in their purchases. The other woman handed me a card and I ran the charge. Glancing at the name, I handed her the receipt and a pen. “Thanks, Gloria, I guess I’ll see you at the memorial later today.”
“Oh, you’re going?” Gloria signed her name, then pushed the paper back toward me. “I didn’t realize Kacey knew many people here in South Cove.”
“I didn’t know her well, but I thought I’d pay my respects. My friend’s boyfriend is going crazy over the geocaching thing and keeps taking us out on new adventures. I met her at one a few weeks ago.” I leaned on the counter, not willing to end the only conversation I’d had with anyone but my grumpy aunt that morning. And the one-sided conversation I had with Emma every morning.
“I guess we’ll see you then.” The women collected their coffees and fruit cups and headed over to a table near the window. I’d been dismissed.
I watched the fog start to swirl and disappear out the window for a while, then I returned to my spot on the couch. “Let me know if you want a refill,” I called out before putting my feet up and returning to the fictional world.
By the time Toby had arrived to relieve me, I’d almost finished the novel. I joined him at the counter, stuffing the book in my tote. “Hey, how are things with you and Elisa?”