The shops were free standing cottage style homes with a small courtyard between them.
The sidewalk was filled with people milling around, which means that there were people in the town and possibility customers for the campground. My mind was swirling with marketing ideas I had no idea I’d had. Downtown Normal seemed to cater to campers.
I pulled the RV into a parking lot that was clearly marked for campers. Dottie Swaggert had told me there was a laundry mat in town after I’d asked her where the residents of the campground did their laundry since I had a few pieces of clothing that needed to be cleaned. Stanley had mentioned he sent my boxes of things to the campground and those were filled with my clothes. Those were clothes that I probably wouldn’t be wearing in Normal, so I picked up a few T-shirts at the rest stops along the way and those were in desperate need of cleaning.
When Dottie told me the washers and dryers at the campground were all broken, I ended up moving the sign down to number three on the to-do list and moving the repairs to the laundry machines up to number one.
The Laundry Club laundry mat was short walk from the parking lot, which was a smart business plan. It allowed campers to park and do some washing. I pushed the door open of the laundry mat and flung the pillowcase full of the clothes I’d salvaged on my own plus the tees I’d picked up along the way, over my shoulder.
“That one in the far-right corner in the back is the best ones.” There was a woman sitting at a card table right as you walked into the door.
Her short blonde hair was held back with a headband that matched her hot pink bodysuit, purple leg warmers, and bright white shoes. She tapped the glass globe on one of those plasma spheres that looked like electricity was running to your finger that was so popular a few years ago. She had a lazy laughter in her eyes.
Her dark eyes circled around my body.
“Thanks,” I muttered and headed into the direction of her pointing.
“Don’t pay Queenie much attention. She lied.” Another woman stood up from a leather chair, which I found sort of odd in a laundry mat. She held a book in her hand. She appeared to be in her late twenties, if I had to guess. She had her brown hair pulled up into a ponytail. “I’m Abby Fawn, Normal County Public Library Librarian and part-time Tupperware sales associate.”
“I’m Mae West,” I stuck my hand out. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Mae West, huh?” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. She said as she typed, “Hashtag Mae West is in hashtag Normal, Kentucky. Is this hashtag normal?”
“What are you doing?” I tried to see over the top of her phone to see what she was typing. Was she one of those people who was going to inform the news that I was now in Normal? They’d been trying to score an interview with me since the FBI raid.
“I used social media to get the word out about things happening in Normal since tourism has been down. You don’t hear about Mae West coming around here much,” there was some sarcasm in her voice.
Queenie let out a fit of laugher. “Mae West, I’m Queenie French. Nice to meet your acquaintance.”
My hand was still stuck out in front of me to shake Abby’s hand.
As if in slow motion, Abby took a step into my personal space and her arms began to open really wide, curling them around me and pulling me towards her in a bear hug. My face flattened against her shoulder, my arms plastered to my side.
“Honey, we don’t shake here. We hug.” She squeezed extra hard. “That means you hug me back.”
I lifted one arm and patted her on the back.
“Two arms,” she instructed me. “We do real, two armed hugs.” I lifted my other arm. “Mmmhmmm, now squeeze,” she insisted. “Tighter.” I pushed my arms together a tiny bit more. “Tighter.”
“Leave her alone.” Dottie Swaggert walked into The Laundry Club. This time with a pair of short khakis, white shirt tucked tight, a pair of flip flops and her bright red hair curled all around her head. “This here is Mae West and she’s one of us now. I’m glad you found the place.”
Our eyes caught each other’s and after a couple of seconds, our eyes softened as we both gave each other a gentle smile.
“Why didn’t you say you was one of us?” Queenie jumped up and hurried over to a table in the back corner of the laundry mat. “This calls for a round of coffee.”
“You go on and use those laundry machines on the side wall.” Abby pointed the way. “They are pretty fast and I’m sure you don’t want to hang around the club too long,” she winked.
“You better get used to it, because The Laundry Club is the closest thing you’re going to get to a country club in Normal.” Queenie walked back over with a tray of Styrofoam cups filled to the rim with coffee and a couple of cookies. “We have fresh coffee every day, a TV and a monthly book club meeting. If you need just to chit chat you can come on by and someone is always here.”
“I’ve never been to a laundry mat, and it’s really nice.” I looked around and noticed a bookshelf with books. There was a poster hanging over the top of it that mentioned a book club meeting. “There really is a book club?” I asked, not that I’d ever been in one, but I better get to know these ladies if I was going to get Happy Trails up and running. They might be some sort of help.
“Yes. Do you like to read?” Abby asked with wide eyes.
“Mmmhmmm,” I agreed. It was easier, though I’d not picked up a book in years.
“Great! I bring the really torn up books from the library here instead of us throwing them out.” She smiled. “Every time someone wants to throw away a book, a little bit of my soul dies.”
“We duct tape them because we don’t want Abby’s soul to die.” Queenie went back over to her table and sat down. “Nothing duct tape can’t fix.” She grabbed a bag off the floor and dragged it onto her lap, pulling out a big roll of duct tape.
“Can it fix a campground?” I half joked and half serious.
“You’re the new owner. I thought I recognized that name, West.” Abby snapped her finger and looked over at Dottie for confirmation. “Welcome to Normal. I didn’t think you looked like you were from around these parts.” She scrunched up her nose and brought her cup of coffee up to take a drink.
There was an awkward silence between me and the three women. They were all staring at me like it was show-n-tell and it was my turn. I bent down and grabbed a handful of clothes, throwing them into the washer. I shut the door and looked at the key pad. There was so many choices, so I just picked the top one.
“I can see it,” Queenie gasped. Her hands flew up over and head. They formed a claw before they swooped down and touched the glass ball. The electricity roared towards the touch of her fingers. “You are a rich girl who has fallen on hard times. You’ve had someone to take care of you for a long time.” She threw her head back and sucked in a deep, dramatic breath, sending her head forward. She lifted her hands and dropped them back on the ball. “I predict your future is bleak. Poorer than you’ve ever been.”
I looked at Queenie. Was she some sort of weirdo psychic?
“Didn’t you tell Mae not to pay attention to her?” Dottie rushed over to the table and jerked out the cord that ran from Queenie’s ball to the electrical outlet.
“I did.” Abby glared at Queenie .
“What?” Queenie shrugged. “First off, she didn’t separate out her clothes between darks and whites. She mixed linens with cotton. Then she didn’t put detergent in. She pushed the first button she saw.” Queenie crossed her arms in a huff.
“So, you can’t read my mind or any of that other voodoo stuff?” I questioned, being let down a little bit because I was going to ask her how long it was going to take to sell the campground.