by Linda Seed
Chapter Nine
The following day she had plenty of work to do at the shop. Saturday was one of her busiest days, especially during summer. She opened an hour earlier and closed an hour later than she did during the rest of the week, and she also liked to provide a little something extra on the weekends: an author appearance, tea and cookies, or maybe story time and a craft in the children’s section.
Today, she was keeping it simple, with a two-for-one sale on used books and a refreshment table including lemonade and cookies from the bakery case at Jitters. Simple mattered, because she and Althea still had to plan their Art Walk event, and they were running out of time. The more rumors filtered through to her about what everyone else on Main Street was doing, the more she realized she was going to be caught unprepared if she didn’t get moving.
She was planning to meet Althea for a brainstorming session at nine a.m. The store would be open, but business usually was slow that early in the morning. It would give them time to think, to discuss, to hash out a solid plan for their event.
Jackson was supposed to call her today, but she willed herself not to think about it. How stupid would it be for a grown woman to wait by the phone, all nervous and moony-eyed? It would be very stupid, indeed. She was a responsible business owner, and she had things to do. Things other than waiting for a man to call.
She dressed for the day—linen capris, a pair of stylish sandals, and a silky sleeveless blouse—gathered her things, and got out of the house by eight thirty. The morning was clear and warm, with a light breeze coming off the ocean. Temperatures in the low seventies. A perfect summer day.
She parked her car in a space behind the store and walked over to Jitters to pick up her cookie order. Occasionally, when she wanted something special, she had the bakery down the street make her iced sugar cookies shaped and decorated like popular books, but that was too much time and expense for a regular Saturday. The basic shortbread cookies at Jitters would have to do.
When she popped her head into the coffee place, Lacy was behind the counter, apron on, making espresso for a waiting customer. The strong scent of coffee hit her the moment she walked in the door, along with the sounds of easy conversation and the light jazz playing over the speaker system.
“Hey!” Lacy greeted her. “You here for the cookies?”
“Yeah. And, mmm. Maybe a latte. I had coffee at home, but I can’t resist the smell.”
“Coming right up.” Lacy finished the other customer’s order and started making Kate’s soy latte, with extra foam and a sprinkling of cinnamon. “So, how’d it go last night?” Lacy asked while she worked. “With Zach and his ex?”
“Good. At least, he says it was good. They didn’t stay the night—so there’s that—but he says she’s agreed to go to counseling with him, see if it’s worth trying again.”
“Well, that’s something,” Lacy said over the whoosh of the milk steamer.
“Yeah, it is. I hope it works out for him. He’s a good guy. Just … you know. Not for me.”
“Not like a certain auburn-haired chef I know.” Lacy grinned at Kate as she set her latte on the counter in a large to-go cup.
“Oh, stop it.”
“What’s up with that, anyway?” Lacy leaned forward conspiratorially, her forearms braced on the counter.
“He’s supposed to call me today.” Kate took a sip of the latte and sighed in pleasure.
“Post-dinner recap? A critique of your braising skills? Deconstruction of your counter-clockwise wrist motion?”
“He says he’s going to ask me out.”
Lacy stood up straight. “On a date?”
“That was my assumption.”
Lacy pumped one arm in the air. “Woo, woo!”
Kate shook her head vigorously. “No. Not, ‘woo woo.’ It’s just … well, I don’t know what it is yet. Let’s hold onto our celebrations until we see what it is.”
“Fair enough.”
Connor, a dark-haired guy in his twenties who was working behind the counter with Lacy, emerged from the back room with a pink bakery box filled with Kate’s cookies. “Here ya go, Kate. I’ll ring you up.”
“Thanks, Connor.”
As she was handing over her debit card, he said, “It sounds kind of ‘woo woo’ to me. I mean, I heard about that kiss he laid on you earlier this week. Hot.” He shrugged. “I mean, I didn’t see it. But I heard it was hot.”
Kate looked at him, stunned. “You heard about the kiss?”
“Well, yeah.” He handed back her debit card and receipt. “Around here, everybody knows everything. You know how it is. But don’t worry, nobody’s judging.”
“They’re not?”
“Nah. They’re saying it’s about time.”
Kate didn’t like the fact that people in town were talking about her kiss, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. Small towns were like that. And Main Street was a small town within a small town. If Owen at the cheese shop across the street saw something, he’d call Elinor at the clothing boutique next to him, and she’d let everyone in her bridge club know. That’s just how it was. There were no secrets on Main Street.
Kate hurried into the shop, where Althea was already waiting, looking vaguely irritated—as she always did.
“We’ve been open five minutes already,” Althea complained.
“Yes, I know. I was picking up the cookies. Help me set up the table?”
“It’s ready,” Althea replied. “I had plenty of time to get it prepared while I was waiting for you.”
Annoyed, Kate set the cookie box and her purse on the counter and turned to Althea, fists on her hips. “Althea. Have we had even one customer by”—she checked her watch—“9:07 a.m.?”
The woman looked uncomfortable. “Well, no.”
“Then perhaps you can tell me what, exactly, the burden was that you had to bear during the five- to seven-minute period when you were waiting for me.”
“Well. It’s not about that,” the older woman insisted, her face set in an unattractive pout.
“Then what is it about? Because it seems to me that every day, you evaluate my job performance and find me lacking. I suppose you think you could run this place better than I do?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed. “I could! Anyone could! A … a … a trained monkey could! At least it would be on time!”
The two women glared at each other for an interminable moment. A pair of tourists walked by on the sidewalk outside. Bright morning light filtered in through the windows. A fly buzzed lazily overhead before landing on a stack of books.
“It seems as though you don’t really enjoy working here, Althea,” Kate said at last.
“I enjoyed working for your mother,” Althea said, a defiant, angry look on her face. “She knew the value of promptness and professionalism. She put her every spare moment into making this store something special. And she knew what I was worth!”
Kate tried not to let the words hurt her, but they did. She had always suspected that she fell short of her mother, in so many ways. Here was Althea, confirming that fear. It stung, and Kate felt wounded.
“Maybe if I had some support instead of constant, nagging criticism, I might be better able to meet your expectations, Althea,” Kate said coldly. “Maybe it’s your attitude that’s bringing down my performance.”
Althea blanched. She blinked rapidly a few times. “Well. I think it might be time for us to reevaluate our arrangement here,” Althea said, pouting. “I’m sure it was time long ago, in fact. I won’t put up with this any longer. And I won’t be talked to with such disrespect.”
Never mind that Althea wasn’t the one who had been compared unfavorably to a trained monkey.
Kate felt sudden remorse for the way she’d spoken to the older woman. Althea was annoying and controlling, no doubt, but that didn’t mean Kate had wanted to put her out of her job.
“Althea, wait …”
Althea fussed around behind the counter, grabbing her purse, her sweater
, and the lunch she had packed. “I’ll just be out of your way. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to pick up my final check later today.” Kate could see tears forming in the woman’s eyes.
“Althea, I didn’t mean … ”
“Yes, you did. I’ll just be going. Good luck to you, Katherine.” She walked out the door, the little bell affixed to the top of the door frame jingling in her wake. Kate knew that what she’d really meant was, Good luck keeping this business afloat without me.
Kate leaned against the counter. “Well, shit.”
She felt the hard press of stress against her breastbone as she arranged the cookies on a plate and placed them on a table Althea had done up with doilies and fresh-cut flowers. Under the guilt and the tension, she was a little bit relieved. Althea did a lot around here, but the woman’s disdain toward Kate made every day a trial. Why did she dislike Kate so intensely? Althea had a reputation for being prickly and difficult. Maybe it was just her personality. Maybe it had nothing to do with Kate.
In any case, she was on her own now.
She put out a pitcher of iced lemonade and some cups, arranged napkins beside the cookie plate, surveyed her results, and sighed. She’d have to advertise for a replacement right away. She would need help before the Art Walk event. Then there was the fact that the store was open seven days a week, and Kate had no desire to work every day without a break. Once she found someone, it would take some time to train them well enough that they could be left alone at the store on her days off.
Shit.
She didn’t think Althea would suffer financially due to losing this job. From Kate’s understanding, Althea was retired from a longtime job as a bookkeeper and worked mainly to keep herself busy. She’d worked here because she loved books. She just didn’t seem to love Kate.
The phone rang, and Kate snatched it up. “Swept Away, this is Kate. May I help you?”
“Althea quit?”
Rose. “How could you possibly know that already?”
“She came into the wine shop just a second ago and gave me an earful. ‘Your friend did this, and your friend did that.’ Emphasizing the word ‘friend,’ to indicate the absurdity of anyone befriending you.”
Kate groaned. “Of course. I suppose you think I was too hard on her.”
“Oh, hell no,” Rose said. “I don’t know how you’ve put up with her this long. She’s always been a pain in the ass.”
Kate laughed. “Yes, she has. But now I don’t have any help.”
“You’ll find someone.”
“Before Art Walk?”
“Hmm. Good point.”
A customer came into the store, the bell jingling. “I’ve gotta go,” Kate said, and hung up the phone.
All morning, Kate helped customers, got caught up with bookkeeping, accepted used books from a customer in exchange for store credit, placed orders for new books, dusted shelves, washed the windows that faced Main Street, wrote Althea’s final check—which she did with some grumbling—answered phone calls, and packaged some orders for shipping. By noon, she was hungry and eager to break for lunch—which she usually would have done while Althea covered the store. But now, since she was on her own, leaving would mean closing the store for an hour. She was hesitant to do that, because the stream of traffic into the shop had been steady all day. She didn’t want to lose an hour worth of business.
She decided she would call Sal’s, the Italian place three doors down, and have them deliver something, just as soon as she got a break. In the meantime, she grabbed a sugar cookie from the plate she’d set out and munched on it to hold her over.
In the back of her mind, she kept wondering when, and if, Jackson would call. She didn’t want to be one of those women hanging on the actions of a man, but she couldn’t help thinking about what she would say, and what he would say, and where it all would lead. Of course he wouldn’t call now. It was noon, the lunch rush. He’d be busy at Neptune, searing scallops, or doing whatever mysterious magic with food that he did. He’d be more likely to call at midafternoon. Lunch over, the prep for dinner not yet in full swing. She’d worry about it then.
