by Amber Crewes
“Where have you been?” Meghan sleepily asked as Karen waved at her, a huge smile on her face. “Do you ever sleep, Karen?”
“I did a sprint workout on the country roads!” Karen informed her proudly, placing her hands on her hips. “These dirt roads are the best; they are nice on the knees, and I was able to beat my time from my last workout in Sandy Bay.”
Meghan glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed. “It’s seven in the morning,” she sighed as Karen sat down and peeled off her running shoes. “And you’ve already done a sprint workout? You are crazy!”
“And a yoga practice. And meditation by the pool,” Karen corrected her. “The early bird gets the worm, you know, and I want to get all the worms.”
Meghan groaned as Karen repeated the same mantra her mother had said the morning after Thelma’s death.
“Are you going to stay in bed all day, Bride-to-be?” Karen teased. “Get yourself up and at ‘em. We have a lot to do before your special day.”
“If it means I can avoid my mother, YES.”
Karen chuckled. “She’s long gone,” she informed Meghan. “We had an awkward run in this morning when I slipped into the kitchen to make coffee. She could hardly look me in the eye after her scene last night. She muttered something to me about going to play tennis, and she wasn’t here when I got back from my workout.”
Meghan breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with her this morning.”
Karen shrugged. “I know last night was hard, but let’s not let it ruin our day together. What do you want to do?”
Meghan stretched, yawning as she raised her arms up. “Let’s get out of the house this morning. I don’t want to deal with my sisters or dad, either.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Coffee,” Meghan told her as Karen nodded earnestly. “Let’s start with coffee.”
Fifteen minutes later, Meghan and Karen were sipping cold brews at Drip, the trendy coffeehouse on the square in Peach Tree Grove. “This place is great!” Karen commented as she licked her lips. “The decor is so fancy.”
Meghan looked around. “It reminds me of David’s bakery,” she realized as she noticed the modern aesthetic and tall ceilings. “Ugh. I should have picked a different coffeehouse.”
“MEGHAN! IS THAT YOU?”
Meghan’s face fell as she heard the familiar voice of Joy Ford, her best friend from high school. She turned to see Joy beaming at her. Joy was a sweet girl; she and Meghan had been inseparable as teenagers, but they had grown apart as adults. Joy had married a man just like her father: wealthy and southern, and she and Meghan had grown into very different adults. Still, it was always nice to see Joy when she was in town, but now, Meghan was not in the mood to visit.
“What are you doing in town?” Joy asked as she threw her arms around Meghan. “It’s so good to see you!”
Meghan returned the hug. “It’s good to see you!”
Joy gave her a sympathetic look. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be back in town so soon... especially after what happened at Christmas...”
Meghan’s face fell. “I’m sorry,” Joy apologized as she registered the embarrassed look on Meghan’s face. “I didn’t mean to bring up what was surely such a difficult time for your family.”
Meghan smiled weakly. “It’s okay. My dad is home now, and we know that he learned from his mistakes. We are trying our best to move on as a family.”
Joy patted her shoulder. “Your dad is a good man, and I am so glad he is home again.”
Karen rose to her feet. “Hi,” she greeted Joy as she extended her right hand. “I’m Karen, Meghan’s friend from Sandy Bay.”
Joy nodded politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she replied, using her best manners that Meghan knew they had both been taught at an etiquette course in middle school. “What brings you to Peach Tree Grove?”
Meghan gritted her teeth, hoping Karen wouldn’t answer, but Karen beamed. “Meghan is getting married at the end of next week,” she informed Joy. “I flew in early to help her, and to help ease her nerves.”
Joy raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Your wedding is next week?” she asked Meghan. “Really?”
Meghan bit her lip. “Joy…”
Joy tucked her hair behind her ears and crossed her arms over her chest, her massive wedding ring glittering in the light of the cafe. “You were in my wedding, Meghan, and now, I am just hearing about your wedding? I don’t understand. I heard that your parents were throwing a massive gala for your wedding, but I didn’t believe it was possible that I wasn’t invited. Now I know the truth.”
Meghan gulped. “We’re trying to keep the wedding small, Joy.”
“Small?” Joy laughed. “Your Mama wouldn’t let you have a small wedding, Meghan Truman.”
Meghan looked at Karen for support, but her friend was quiet. “Joy,” Meghan pleaded. “Please don’t be upset. Jack and I asked for a small wedding, but my parents have turned it into a circus.”
Joy frowned. “Even if that were true, you didn’t invite me to your small wedding. That hurts me, Meghan. We’ve been friends since we were little girls, and I didn’t make the list for your tiny wedding? I don’t get it…”
Meghan saw the hurt in Joy’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she offered her old friend. “My parents have turned this wedding into something I didn’t want; Jack and I only wanted to invite our closest friends.”
“So, you’re saying I am not one of your closest friends?”
Karen cringed as Joy pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table with them. “I don’t want to cause a scene,” she said in a hushed tone. “But I don’t want you to make a mistake…”
“A mistake?” Meghan asked, her eyebrows raised. “What do you mean?”
Joy pursed her lips. “I just think that with all the trouble your daddy was in, you wouldn’t want to cross one of the better families in town.”
“Are you threatening me?”
Joy’s eyes widened. “Of course not,” she told them, but her face said otherwise.
They sat in awkward silence, and Meghan and Karen shot each other worried looks. Finally, Joy got the hint. “I guess I’ll be going,” she sighed as she rose from the table and pushed in the chair. “So lovely running into you, Meghan. It was nice to meet you, Connie.”
“Karen,” Karen corrected her as Joy gave a little wave and sauntered away. “My name is Karen.”
They returned to their drinks and conversation, both thankful Joy was gone. “She’s something else,” Meghan muttered as a customer walked in the door. “She was always so sweet in high school, but I can hardly stand her now.”
Karen kicked her softly under the table. “Look at that guy,” she hissed as Meghan winced.
“What guy?”
“The guy at the counter. Look at his face!”
Meghan glanced over her shoulder, and her jaw dropped. “I recognize him,” she whispered to Karen as she surveyed his portly body and bald head. “That’s Stanley Bull! He came to my house with Thelma. I think he worked for her.”
They both stared at him. Stanley’s round face was flushed, and he had a massive bruise on his left cheekbone.
“That looks painful,” Karen observed as Stanley ordered a cup of coffee and retreated to a table in the corner. “I wonder what happened to him?”
“Let’s find out,” Meghan said boldly as she rose from the table. “Come on, Karen. Let’s go talk to him.”
10
“S tanley?”
Stanley nearly jumped out of his chair as Meghan walked up behind him. “Sorry, you surprised me,” he apologized as he placed a hand on his heart. “Can I help you?”
Meghan sat down beside him as Karen came over. “I don’t know if you remember me,” she began. “But you were at my house the other day. With Thelma?”
His face paled. “Miss Truman,” he murmured. “Nice to see you again.”
She smiled. “And you. I wanted to come over h
ere and offer my condolences. It must be difficult to lose your boss. I’m sure you and Thelma were close?”
Stanley nodded. “It was a shock,” he admitted as he shook his head. “No one expected to get the call that Thelma was dead; she seemed larger-than-life, if you know what I mean.”
Meghan caught herself before she made a nasty face; Thelma had seemed larger-than-life, but not in a good way. “Of course.”
Karen smiled at him. “I’m Meghan’s friend, Karen. I am visiting from out of town.”
“It’s a pleasure,” he greeted her, his southern drawl thick.
He took a sip of his coffee and winced. “Oooof,” he muttered as he put the cup down on the table. “The hot coffee irritates my face.”
Meghan’s eyes widened in concern. “What happened?” she asked sweetly. “What a time you’ve had; your boss dies, and then you get a bruise like that? How awful.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Thelma’s passing wasn’t the worst thing,” he said matter-of-factly.
“What do you mean?” Karen asked. “You aren’t upset?”
“The situation is upsetting,” he agreed. “But Thelma was not an easy woman to be around. In fact, she is the one that gave me this bruise on my face.”
Meghan’s jaw dropped. “What? Are you kidding?”
“I’m not,” he told them. “Meghan, you saw the way she behaved when we were at your home. Thelma was out of control and power-hungry. Some of us even wondered if she was a sociopath. She had no concern for the feelings of others, and she wanted to win no matter what it took. I told her that if we wanted to win your parents’ business and bake your wedding cake, we would have to come up with something spectacular. Something out of this world. She got angry, and she hit me with a rolling pin. The doctor said it’s a miracle I didn’t lose an eye.”
“Why was she so angry?” Meghan asked. “It’s just a wedding cake…”
Stanley furrowed his brow. “She always had to be the best! Even if others had superior ideas, she could not accept that anyone might have a better way of doing things than her. I had so many ideas for pastries and cakes that could have worked, but she never listened to me. I won a baking contest once by entering a pie into a fair a few counties over, and when she found out, she almost fired me.”
“She sounds intense,” Karen affirmed.
“Intense doesn’t even begin to cover it. That apprentice she had, David? He was a talented baker. He was one of the best on our team. When he opened his bakery, Thelma was livid. She vowed to destroy him. I was going to work for him once he earned enough money to support another employee. Lucky for him, Thelma is gone. She can’t ruin his business.”
Meghan and Karen exchanged glances. “Do you think David has anything to do with Thelma’s death?”
Stanley shrugged. “She hated him, and after trying to undermine him, I’m sure he hated her right back. Hate can fuel a lot of things…. perhaps even murder.”
Meghan raised an eyebrow. “That’s good to know,” she said. “My mother seems very invested in David, and now, I’m not sure if I feel comfortable involving him in my wedding preparations…”
Stanley shrugged. “Thelma is dead, so you won’t have any problems,” he assured her. “Thelma got what was coming to her, you know.”
“You think so?” Karen asked.
Stanley blinked. “Karma doesn’t look too kindly upon the power-hungry,” he said.
Meghan looked closer at the bruising. “When did she do this, exactly?” she asked. “After she tracked us down at David’s? Where were you when she died?”
Stanley glanced down at the brown leather watch on his right wrist. “Look at the time,” he gasped. “Meghan, Karen, it was nice talking to you, but I have to run. I have an appointment, and I am late!”
He rose to his feet and nodded at them both. “Take good care,” he told the women as he turned on his heel and dashed out of the coffee shop.
Meghan stared at Karen. “That was odd,” she sighed as she placed her empty coffee cup on the table. “He seemed so... bothered.”
Karen shrugged. “Wouldn’t you be bothered if your boss beat you up and then died immediately after? I think he was flustered for a good reason.”
Meghan nodded. “You’re right; he’s been through a lot over the last few days. I feel bad for him.”
Karen smiled. “It just gets crazier and crazier down here, doesn’t it?”
The women chatted for a few more minutes and then left the coffee shop. “It’s a hot day,” Meghan commented as she shielded her eyes from the sun. “This Texas heat is so much different than being in Sandy Bay.”
“I like it,” Karen grinned as she flicked her bob off of her shoulder. “This heat has been so great for my training.”
As they walked downtown, a middle-aged woman stopped them. She had perfectly coiffed auburn hair and was carrying a designer handbag. “Meghan, it is so good to see you,” the woman cooed as she tapped on Meghan’s shoulder. “We are so excited to celebrate your wedding next week. We’re having our nanny stay overnight with the children, and Jim and I are looking forward to the night out together.”
Meghan smiled politely. “We can’t wait to see you there.”
Karen held out her hand. “I’m Karen, Meghan’s friend. Nice to meet you…?”
Meghan’s heart beat furiously in her chest; she had no idea who this woman was, and she did not want to appear rude in front of someone who clearly knew her family.
“I’m Gianna Taylor,” the woman nodded. “Pleasure to meet you, Karen. Meghan, we’ll see you next week.”
Meghan sighed as Gianna walked away. “I have no idea who she is,” she whispered to Karen.
“She apparently knows who you are. Your parents really blew this wedding out of proportion, didn’t they?”
“Oh, look. It’s Meghan,” an elderly gentleman called out from across the street. He held hands with a silver-haired woman. “Meghan, how are you?”
The couple crossed the street. “I don’t know them, either,” she hissed at Karen. “Please tell me they aren’t coming to my…”
“We can’t wait to see you as a bride next week,” the woman chirped as Meghan blushed. “Your Mama sent us the most beautiful invitation. We are just honored to attend.”
Meghan smiled weakly. “We will be honored to have you there. So good to see you.”
She hurried Karen away from the couple. “My wedding is ruined,” she muttered as they ducked behind a tree. “All these strangers are coming, Jack isn’t even here yet, and Mama wants to hire someone who may be a murderer to bake my cake. What else could go wrong?”
11
T hey returned home from town and found Rebecca Truman in the library. She was holding a bouquet and shaking her head. “This isn’t right,” she scowled as she picked through the pink and white roses. “This is too large. It’s tacky. I asked for small bouquets, not entire rose bushes.”
They saw a short mustached man frowning. “I don’t know what you want,” he said with exasperation. “My team has been designing these for months, Mrs. Truman. You approved the mock-ups yourself. What is the problem?”
Meghan interjected. “Hello,” she greeted them, feigning cheerfulness as she walked toward her mother. “What’s going on in here?”
The man narrowed his eyes. “You must be the bride.”
“I am. I’m Meghan Truman.”
He shook her hand. “Your mother and I were just discussing the floral arrangements. I am the florist, and I wanted to bring these bouquets over to show your mother. She isn’t pleased with our work…”
Rebecca’s mouth was in a thin line. “I am not pleased,” she agreed. “I asked for small, tasteful bouquets of soft pink and white roses, and you delivered flowers suitable for an elephant’s wedding. Meghan doesn’t need bouquets of this size. We don’t want the flowers to outshine the bride.”
The florist shoved a bouquet in Meghan’s face. “What do you think?” he asked her. “Surely the bride
has an opinion?”
Meghan inhaled. “They smell lovely,” she complimented. “And I adore the colors.”
His face lit up. “Perfect,” he said as he shot a look at Rebecca. “The bride approves.”
Before she could stop herself, Meghan let out a loud sneeze. “Excuse me,” she apologized, but before she could finish her words, she sneezed again.
“What’s wrong?” Rebecca asked her daughter as Meghan continued to sneeze. “Your eyes are getting red, Meghan.”
Meghan rubbed her itchy eyes. “What flowers are in the bouquet?” she asked the florist.
