by C A Phipps
“That’s great news for you and the store. How are you feeling?”
Olivia grimaced. “I was back to my old self the next day, so you don’t need to keep asking.”
“Sorry.” Her aunt didn’t like a fuss, so Scarlett changed the subject. “Thanks again for organizing the working bee.”
“We got so much done, and it was fun,” Ruby said, though not as enthusiastically as she could have.
“It was a pleasure.” Olivia quickly picked up on the strained atmosphere. “Are you girls, alright?”
“We are because we’ve had some luck.” Violet chose to confess with forced cheerfulness.
“Wonderful! Tell me all.” Olivia sipped her coffee, eager for the news but watching them closely.
Violet had her say with no interruption, and Olivia’s attention immediately turned to Scarlett.
“I don’t want to burst your bubble, but accepting a gift from Arthur doesn’t sound that well-thought-out.”
Scarlett gave her a rueful half-smile. “I was outvoted.”
Olivia glanced at the guilty-looking Violet and Ruby, then back to Scarlett. “I see how it is. Well, I guess that’s how a democracy works, so I won’t interfere. I just hope you know what you’re getting in to.”
Scarlett was grateful for the implied support and changed the subject. “Mable’s nephew arrived. He seems very nice.”
“Daisy told me. She said he’s rather cute?” Olivia asked with feigned innocence.
Scarlett stopped herself mid-eye-roll. “Is that right? I suppose he is.”
Olivia eyed poor Ruby with precisely the same look she had whenever Sam was near Scarlett or Nate near Violet.
“Just remember before you embarrass yourself that he’s here to bury his aunt,” Scarlett warned her.
“As if I would do or say anything untoward. Now, I must get back,” Olivia chuckled, taking her boxed cupcake and coffee.
Scarlett shook her head. Olivia was not one to be thwarted, but there were bigger things at play. It was time to tell her sisters the rest of her conversation with Brent Norris.
“What I didn’t say in front of Olivia is that Mable’s nephew may stop by this afternoon. He’s feeling awkward about staying at his aunt’s house, so I invited him to take a break and join us for coffee.”
Violet gasped theatrically. “Did you? Wow. He must be very cute.”
Scarlett winked at her. “Should we get Ruby to serve him?”
“Oh my goodness, you and Olivia are surely related,” Violet laughed.
“If you keep out of my love life, I’ll do the same for the two of you,” Ruby sniffed.
“Deal,” Violet agreed.
Scarlett nodded. “Plus, he’ll be gone as soon as he’s decided what to do with everything, so you really don’t need to worry about Olivia’s matchmaking.”
“Good,” Ruby said firmly. “Now, let’s get back to work.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Brent Norris turned up that afternoon. He came into the café with a hopeful smile, which broadened when he saw Scarlett behind the counter.
“Welcome,” she greeted him.
“Your café is so homely, and the food looks wonderful.”
Scarlett could see he meant it. “Thank you. How did everything go with preparations?”
“After I took the milk back to the house, I went straight to the funeral parlor. They were as nice as you said and have everything under control for tomorrow. I just need an outfit for Aunt Mable. From what I remember, she had a definite taste in clothes.”
“Absolutely,” Scarlett explained about the tartan skirts and brown shoes.
“I have those in the car along with her purse. The clothes were even laundered, but perhaps something nicer is appropriate since it’s an open casket?”
Scarlett couldn’t imagine that Mable Norris wanted an open casket as she didn’t like people looking at her, but this was not her business. “I’m sure she has a Sunday best outfit that would be suitable.”
Ruby and Violet came out from the back of the shop with trays of pies and cupcakes to replenish the display cabinet. Scarlett introduced them.
“The three of you work here together?” He sounded shocked that this could work.
“Our mom opened the café, and now we own it,” Scarlett told him, deliberately not mentioning that occasionally things were difficult.
“Well, all this food is making me hungry. But there’s too much choice. What do you suggest?”
Scarlett laughed at his sorrowful facials. “Take a seat, and we’ll bring you a slice of pie and a cupcake. Any particular flavors?”
“Surprise me.”
Scarlett wished she had a dollar for every time their customers said those words, although she loved to do so.
“Coffee?”
“Please. Strong and black.”
Violet poured the coffee, and Scarlett handed a plate with apple pie and a blueberry cupcake to Ruby, who rolled her eyes and shook her head. Ruby was clearly staying away from Brent, and Scarlett almost laughed before taking him the baking herself.
“Scarlett says you’re not happy with the idea of going through your aunt’s things,” Violet said.
He shrugged. “It just feels wrong. I didn’t know Aunt Mable that well and haven’t seen her for years.”
“Can we help?” Ruby suddenly appeared behind Scarlett.
Brent’s eyes widened at the offer, then he grinned. “I can’t believe this. Do you really mean it?”
“Of course,” Ruby nodded.
“Would it be terrible if I asked you to also help me sort her things?” Brent grimaced. “I could pay for your time.”
Ruby waved away his offer. “That’s not necessary. If we all do a little, the job will get done in no time. I do have a babysitting job on weekday afternoons, but I could help on the weekend. Or is that too soon after the funeral?”
“That would be perfect. I see no reason to drag things out. I can’t be gone too long from my job, so your help will be invaluable. I’m so grateful.”
His relief let him relax into his chair. Taking a bite of pie, he closed his eyes in delight.
“Then it’s settled. We can make time after the funeral,” Ruby stated, not bothering to ask her sisters if that was okay.
Brent frowned. “Sorry to be so needy when we’ve just met, but I’ll need that outfit before the funeral.”
He looked so apologetic that Scarlett wasn’t surprised when Ruby went to his aid once more.
“I could stop by after my babysitting tonight if I can have the car?” Ruby looked to Violet.
Scarlett felt a twinge of anguish. Since they’d already accepted the car, Ruby using it didn’t bother her, but the idea of her sister alone in a strange house with a man she didn’t know seemed risky. With that stranger watching intently, she had no choice.
“No need for that, Ruby. I could stop by on my way home, Brent. I’m sure it won’t take long.”
Ruby gave her a curious look. “That’s a great idea. Scarlett’s better at this sort of thing. I might have your aunt wearing something inappropriate.”
The dig was subtle, but Scarlett read between the lines. Ruby was slighted. Brent’s gaze followed Ruby on her way to the kitchen. Ruby often had this effect on men, so Scarlett wasn’t surprised, and Violet wiggled her eyebrows as she went behind the counter.
Scarlett ignored her. “Are you having anything after the funeral for your aunt’s friends?”
“I’ve hired a small room at the funeral home for tea and coffee. Do you think many people will come?”
Scarlett was perplexed for a moment. How many was he thinking? “I really don’t know,” she hedged.
He raised an eyebrow. “So it’s true, Aunt Mable wasn’t popular?”
“Who told you that?” Scarlett asked, not sure what to say.
“My mom. They had an argument several years back on the phone, and mom mentioned that the reason my aunt was so unpopular was that she was mean-spirited. Mom re
gretted saying that to me and emphasized that they were fond of each other, but it stuck in my memory.”
He picked sadly at his cupcake, and Scarlett felt sorry for him all over again. Having to do this for a woman who was related to him, but not close, was potentially worse than doing so for a loved member of the family. Maybe.
“Mable did have a way about her,” she admitted. “But I’m sure she’ll have some friends to attend, and as I said, we’ll be there.”
His face lightened. “Thank goodness I met you when I did. You make things feel far less daunting.”
She didn’t get to answer, because the door opened and Daisy burst in. She slowed as soon as she saw Brent.
“Where’s the fire?” Scarlett teased
Daisy laughed. “Just in a hurry to get my hands on one of your cupcakes. Let me try something new. Hi Brent. Nice to see you again,” she simpered.
“You’re in luck. I have the perfect one.”
Daisy stayed by Brent’s table. “I see you have a new vehicle. It looks expensive.”
“It’s just a loaner.” Not wanting to say who the car had been loaned from, Scarlett busied herself with packaging the cupcake.
“Good for you. Carting your cakes around on foot must be getting tiring.” Daisy turned her attention on Brent once more. “Would you like some help packing up Mable’s house?”
“Thanks so much, but Scarlett and her sisters’ have already offered.”
Daisy stilled for a moment. “Are you sure you couldn’t use another pair of hands?”
“I guess it couldn’t hurt. I’ve only taken a quick look and couldn’t face starting it without some sustenance,” Brent nodded at the coffee and cake.
Looking pleased with herself, Daisy grinned at them all. “The Finch girls are good bakers. They take after their mom.”
“Finch?” Brent tilted his head.
Daisy nodded. “That’s their last name.”
“Any relation to Lilac Finch?”
That stopped Scarlett in her tracks, and she almost dropped the cupcake. Slowly she boxed it and stood. “That’s our mom’s name. How do you know her?”
“I read some of my aunt’s letters, where she mentioned her.” Brent gave her an assessing look. “They weren’t friends, were they?”
“Not as far as I know. Why do you ask?”
“Mable came here when she was younger to take up work at the library. In the beginning, she loved Cozy Hollow and sent letters to my mom stating how wonderful it was,” Brent said frankly.
“Did something bad happen to make her change her mind?” Daisy was wide-eyed at the hint of gossip.
“I do remember that there was a man my aunt was interested in, but his heart was elsewhere. Several times she thought she might have changed his mind. Obviously, it never came to anything.”
Scarlett was uncomfortable. She knew where he was heading with this line of talk, and even though she was curious, she didn’t want to encourage it right now. The diner owner was renowned for her loose lips, and Scarlett didn’t want this spread around. Plus, talking about Arthur’s interest in their mom was upsetting. She shot a look at the counter, but thankfully, Violet and Ruby were nowhere to be seen.
“Who was the love interest?” Daisy pressed one eye on Scarlett.
He shrugged. “I’m pretty sure that Mom didn’t know.”
Daisy handed over the money for her cupcake. “Poor Mable. Whoever it was, she kept it very close. Let me know what day and time you need me, Brent, and I’ll be there.” With a quick wave, Daisy headed back toward the diner.
“This town is so nice. I can see why my aunt lived here for so long.”
Scarlett smiled while internally pulling apart everything he’d said. Was there something she couldn’t see that could tell her why all these things had happened to her family? Was any of it to do with Mable Norris? If so, would they find something at her house? Then she felt terrible. The poor woman was recently deceased, and to search her private possessions looking for clues was macabre.
Still, if Scarlett or her sisters stumbled across anything that could help the case, then she’d latch onto it gladly. Since Brent would be grieving, it might pay to keep any such findings to themselves. For a short while.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Scarlett hurried down Main Street, her bag over one shoulder, and turned right instead of her normal left that would take her home. Mable’s house sat on a small section, one from the corner. Fortunately, it wasn’t a large house, and though it was very old, Mable kept it in pristine condition. From the outside, at least.
White curtains hung in both front windows. The door was dark brown and recently painted, judging by the drips of paint on the flower bed to the left of it. George sat on the top step, winking.
Scarlett used the polished brass knocker aptly shaped like a cat, and Brent opened the door immediately.
“Thanks so much for coming.” He led her down a short hall to a small sitting room. “I’ve started boxing a few things, but I’ve no idea what to take home to mom and what to give to Goodwill. I hope you don’t mind if I leave most of it until you girls can help after the funeral?”
She peeked into the open boxes, which held pictures and knick-knacks, mostly of cats and George in particular. “We don’t mind, but be warned we won’t know your mom’s tastes either.”
He shrugged. “To be honest, Mom’s house isn’t large, so I can’t take too much.”
“That’s good to know before we start. So it will be the odd ornament, anything that looks like it might be sentimental or worth something, and maybe Mable’s papers? You can go over those at your leisure when you get back home.”
He laughed and led her down another hall. “See, already, we have some common sense about it. I admit I feel completely at sea and incredibly awkward about touching my aunt’s things.”
It didn’t take long to view the rest of the square-shaped house. On the left was the sitting room. Opposite that was the kitchen with a round table and two chairs just inside the door. The bathroom was behind that as well as a small bedroom, which had wall to wall bookshelves full, from top to bottom. That left one more bedroom behind the sitting room and opposite the bathroom. Surely this was Mable’s?
Brent confirmed it by stopping outside the closed door for a moment. He took a deep breath and slowly opened it. “I know it seems silly, but I’ve barely poked my head in here. It feels odd when I do step inside, even now with you beside me.”
She gulped and went to the middle of the room, knowing this feeling well. “It’s not an easy thing to do, and must be extra hard when you’re not close.” She added, not sure if that was true or not.
Brent hovered by the door. “Please, have a look around and find something she’d be happy to wear.”
Scarlett gingerly touched the skirts. There were six of them alongside six pressed blouses. If you included the set of clothes Brent had taken from the funeral home, it appeared that Mable had an outfit for each day and little else. A pang of sadness washed over her. The Finch girls did not have a lot of money, and their wardrobes weren’t full by any stretch of the imagination, but this was truly pitiful.
Brent must have picked up on her feelings.
“It’s not much, is it?”
The lump in her throat got bigger, so Scarlett shook her head.
“I guess a librarian doesn’t earn huge money?” he added.
“Mmmm.”
“I’ll make us a coffee and wait in the kitchen.” Brent beat a hasty retreat.
Grateful that she was alone, she blinked back a tear. Scarlett could never have imagined that she’d feel this way for her nemesis. Settling on the lightest colored skirt and the prettiest of the blouses, she ignored the set that lay in a pile on the dresser. It may not be an attractive ensemble, but this was so representative of the Mable everyone knew.
At the bottom of the wardrobe were the brown shoes, polished to a shine you could almost see your face in. Scarlett lay the clothes on the
pink bedcover. That was something she hadn’t expected.
Next, she opened a drawer in the tall dresser, feeling like a thief or worse and was shocked. Scarves of every color lay inside, perfectly folded into squares. This was another surprise since Mable had never worn a scarf—apart from a beige hand-knitted one with matching beret. She ran her hand over the delicate material and recognized that some were silk.
Color and Mable had never gone hand in hand, and yet the woman had this rainbow hidden away. Had something happened to turn her away from them? But then the bed cover would not be there, or the scarves. Would they? Scarlett pondered the enigma that was Mable Norris as she gently shut them away.
Systematically, she searched the rest of the drawers, finally managing to put together the rest of Mable’s outfit. Hesitating for a moment, she pursed her lips. If for whatever reason, Mable couldn’t wear color in life, she should be able to in death. Pulling out a gorgeous pink scarf, Scarlett added it to the pile. Finding a shopping bag in the corner of the wardrobe, she placed everything inside it.
“Sorry, Ms. Norris. I hope I’ve done the right thing,” she whispered.
“Were you talking to me?” Brent stood at the door, looking amused.
She smiled, handing him the bag. “I have to admit it did feel odd going through her things, but it’s done.”
“I’m sure it did, and I thank you for releasing me from the task.”
He took the bag, and they went back to the lounge. “I’ve made that coffee.”
Although Scarlett was tired, she heard a need in his voice as if he didn’t want to be alone. She sat and drank as quickly as she could without being rude, and they chatted about his mom and aunt.
Finally, she stood. “Thanks for the coffee, but I need to get home and start dinner for my family.”
“Of course you do,” he smiled sadly.
Scarlett hated to leave him like this. “Would you like to join us?” she blurted.
“That’s very kind of you.” he sighed regretfully. “I’d like nothing better, but the house won’t get packed up if I don’t knuckle down. There’s so much else to do while I’m here, that I think I grossly underestimated things. The lawyer gave me a lot to think about.”
