Meow Matrimony

by Lickel, Lisa;

  “How could Ivanna In The Morning already get a vacation?” Martha asked. “It’s only been, like, a couple of months since she started.”

  “Since the beginning of the year,” I responded without thinking…then it hit me. I got shivery, remembering Ivanna’s squashed face, her lips blue around the red dash of lipstick, as if she’d been chilled.

  “And she was all hyped up about the wedding. Remember how those jokers keep calling in whenever she talks about her honeymoon? It’s like that game…I’m going on a cruise and I need…a bikini, or, like, a side trip to shop on shore. It’s hysterical. Maybe she’s got something going on about the wedding. We’d have heard if it happened already.”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say. Fortunately, Martha didn’t seem to notice.

  “Maybe she quit or got fired. It’s not like she was that great. Kind of flirty, if you ask me, even with that rock on her finger.”

  “Uh, huh.”

  “You getting a cold or something, Ivy?”

  “Maybe. I’d better get to some paperwork. You good to go out here?” Her puzzled concern tickled the back of my neck as I went to the office. I didn’t close the door at first, until I checked my phone.

  Five text messages, four from Stanley. I answered Adam’s first. Yes, I loved him, yes, I was OK, and yes, I looked forward to seeing him at noon. We were going to Chicago for a couple of days while he checked on his four stores and talked to his sister, Marie, about opening another store on the west side. Mea Cuppa was closed Sunday and Monday in Apple Grove, though open all week in Chicago.

  I ordered myself to think about anything but poor dead Ivanna and her canceled life.

  I pulled the office door mostly shut and plopped down behind the desk, cowering behind the big screen of the computer. Stanley, Stanley, what have you gotten into? His last message said to erase all the others after I read them, and not to answer.

  The police had asked his mother about him, and had come to Featherlight headquarters asking about his employment.

  I picked up a cube of chocolate and was letting it melt in my mouth before I realized what I’d done. I stared at the lavender wrapper decorated with white feathery angel wings—the kind Stanley sold. The kind that had been within dead Ivanna’s reach.

  Got fired. Cops accused me of murder.

  3

  As I read the last text message from Stanley, I nearly coughed up the fudge I started to frantically chew, as if trying to get rid of evidence or maybe avoid Ivanna’s fate. The office landline rang. I straightened and nervously swept back my hair before I picked up on the third jingle. “Mea Cuppa Coffee shop, Ivy,” I said.

  “Oh, Miss Pressman, Ivanna? I’m so glad to catch you,” a sweet, young voice said.

  “I’m not—”

  “This is Tara from Customer Service at Emblem Paper Works. We check in with all of our special customers to make sure they’re pleased with our final product. This survey will only take a few moments—”

  “Excuse me. This is—”

  “Thank you. Now, Miss Pressman, did your order arrive during the promised delivery window?” Tara from Customer Service was obviously reading from some kind of script.

  “No, it did not,” I responded. “Listen—”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  Clicking in the background told me she was bringing up a new script prompt. Maybe… “Tara—”

  “I have been authorized to offer you a twenty-five percent discount on your next order, Miss Pressman. Emblem’s honor. According to our records, your order of…two hundred and fifty wedding…oh, congratulations!” the girl squeaked, “should have arrived yester…day…”

  Her voice slowed. I tried to cut in again. “A package—”

  “Ma’am,” Tara’s voice cut through, not squeaking and no longer bubbly. “According to our delivery tracking system your package was delivered at eleven forty-eight a.m. yesterday morning. If you have reason to—”

  “Check the address!” I commanded through gritted teeth.

  “Three twelve Marigold,” Tara promptly supplied.

  “That’s my address!”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “My name is not Ivanna Pressman.”

  “But you…but why—”

  “I’m Ivy Preston. Miss Pressman’s delivery was sent to my house by mistake.”

  “Ma’am, you’ll have to return that package right now. If there is any damage—”

  “Don’t worry. I already took care of your mistake.”

  “We—I—I—well, Emblem Paper Works will expect the package. May I have the tracking information?”

  “I delivered the box to Miss Pressman myself.”

  “Oh! Oh, that was very thoughtful, but you—you should have notified Emblem. There is a call back number right on the package, the lower left corner of the mailing package. May I have the spelling of your name and your phone number and address, please? We will rectify the situation and attempt to contact Miss Pressman immediately.”

  “Good luck with that,” I said and hung up. I groaned when I realized I’d forgotten to ask about my own package of invitations. I supposed they would be delivered to a crime scene and then I’d never get them back in time to send them out for my wedding. I never thought such a long-standing business such as Emblem Paper Works could get so messed up internally. Huh—probably cutbacks in personnel due to falling profit margins in a weak economy.

  I sat back in my chair with a huff. The economy of our little town made me think about the reasons Adam and I had moved to Apple Grove. Community improvement grant money, for which our former mayor and personal friend, Donald Conklin, had been killed, was meant to bolster local businesses and bring in new ones, like the coffee shop and my tech service.

  At least Adam’s business was doing well.

  The personal technology business had slowed considerably, and with Adam taking on the part time mayor’s job, we agreed I should handle the day-to-day operations at the Apple Grove Mea Cuppa coffee shop and bookstore. Adam’s sister handled the other stores in Chicago, and I had little chance of goofing up too badly since my fiancé was close at hand.

  I was excited about the opportunity, especially the books part. I loved books, maybe more than coffee, though I’d never tell Adam. Besides, the vanilla spice latte and I had a special relationship on rainy days. Along with being able to gambol among the pre-release mysteries from all the big publishers, marrying the man who provided all this was…bliss.

  I managed to hide out updating Mea Cuppa’s website and inventory until the lunch crowd was due to arrive and I needed to tell Martha about Ivanna before she heard it from the local buzz. In fact, I was surprised she hadn’t.

  I slumped back into the main shop. And I was too late. A few of the regulars held down two tables and were waving to more customers at the door.

  “Ivy! I heard!” Roberta called to me. “How awful!”

  Roberta’s mother owned the eyesore junk shop next door. Adam had befriended the elderly woman in an attempt to help clean it up. At least the front windows looked a lot better. Roberta and her cousin Lannah were two of our best customers. Lannah’s husband was an alderman on the city council and recently lost the mayoral election to Adam, a blessing and a curse.

  The expression on Martha’s face…I made a sorrowful expression and hoped she’d understand I had been too emotional to talk about it earlier. I wasn’t sure I could talk about it now.

  Adam, expression puzzled beneath jovial smile and hospitable warmth, weaved his way across to me. “Hi, I don’t have much time…”

  “Sorry. I guess the cat’s out of the bag about Ivanna.”

  “No wonder you hid all morning,” Martha whispered on her way past.

  “Only way I could keep it together,” I muttered back. “Forgive me.”

  Adam quirked his brow.

  “Office work,” I told him. “Oh, and get this…” I was speaking to his shoulder as he greeted other customers.
<
br />   “Sorry. Gotta run. Now that the grant money’s been released…”

  “I get it.” I caressed his shoulder lightly. I would tell him about Stanley when we were alone.

  “I’ll be out at the Feli-Mix site.”

  “Remember, we have a meeting with the caterers tomorrow.”

  “Sure…sounds good. Eleven, right? But I’ll see you later.” A quick smooch and he was gone again.

  What Donald had paid for with his life was more important right now to Apple Grove and our current mayor. I couldn’t resent the time my fiancé, who’d only been on the job a month, needed to spend keeping our friend’s dream alive. We’d do all we could to bring Donald’s beloved Apple Grove back to life. More jobs…happier people who spent money on more than simple necessities, built homes, sent their kids to school, and paid taxes.

  “So, tell us what happened, Ivy.” Lannah Murphy beckoned with her two, glittering platinum diamond rings.

  I really did like her, I reminded myself, as I put on my bashful expression and sauntered to join the group. Despite the fact she still thought she could teach me to play bridge. I think she was happy Rupert had lost the election and I was beginning to understand why, with Adam gone so much. “As long as you can wait on your coffees.”

  ~*~

  “Taylor’s been bugging me about playing with the kittens,” Martha said as we were clearing up later that afternoon. “I realize you’re busy…”

  “We need to talk about their care, anyway, while Adam and I are away.” I finished refilling the napkin dispenser and shut the back with a click. “Martha, I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you. I got choked up—”

  “I figured there was a reason you went to hide out.” She flashed a grin. “Not like you at all. Don’t worry about it. Wow, what a shocker. I feel bad over what I said about her.” She pursed her lips. Then cheered up. “You owe me a first-hand account, though.”

  “Of course.” Whew. She wasn’t a pouter, so I hadn’t been really worried. I had given the klatch a bare-bones version earlier, of course. No details, but a lot of emotion. “So, about the kids, if you can get them over at nine or nine thirty in the morning, we’ll have plenty of time to play. We don’t meet with the caterers until eleven. Adam will open and let Colleen take charge for a couple of hours while we’re gone.”

  “Good. Sure, we can do that. So…she was really getting married the week before you and Adam? All that goofy talk about her wedding…guess I never paid attention to when it was.”

  Surely that was all right to divulge what was probably public knowledge—well except to Martha. And me, I suppose…that was, before… “Um, Jason Carter—”

  “Oooh…Jason Carter from North Star Candies. Oh, yum, he’s soooo dreamy. Everybody—and I mean everybody—had the hots for him. He was in my sister Barbara’s class…oh, poor guy.”

  “I guess. Wait. He works for—”

  “Oh, man. I gotta call my sister!” Martha turned away, phone already out, her fingers flying.

  Wow. Was that why Ivanna kept pushing North Star candy on her show? Or she pulled in the big sponsor due to being engaged to a company rep? North Star’s reputation for aggressive sales was widely known in the industry. Stanley used to complain all the time when he worked for them. That was, whenever he was in town after his sales route. His territory expanded farther south from Maplewood where his family and mine lived. He hated traveling so far.

  Funny thing was, he had just changed jobs when I relocated to Apple Grove, near North Star Candy’s home territory. Stanley started visiting me when he established a sales route for rival Featherlight Confectionaries in west central Illinois. Featherlight was based in Chicago and the reason Adam sold that kind of candy in his stores, even though…um…well, North Star’s factory was practically in sniffing distance. In fact, if I closed my eyes and stuck my nose in the air…

  Martha jingled her car keys in front of me. I blinked.

  “All the lights are out, boss,” she said. “You almost ready to go?”

  “Yeah, sure…go on ahead. I’ll just close up the office and put the cashbox in the safe. See you and the T’s in the morning.” Adam would open in the morning and make sure our weekend crew was set, so I didn’t often come to the store then.

  I thought about her kids on the way home, daughter Taylor and son Timmy, who were delightful. I could only hope any kids I produced would be so sweet and smart.

  The minute I had my keys and purse put away at home, Mom called.

  “I’m all set to come down for the big meeting,” she sang. “I have the menu choices.”

  “Good.”

  “Are you all right, darling? Tired, over-excited? Don’t wear yourself out, now…”

  “I’m not. Don’t worry. It’s Friday, and, well, something happened.”

  “As long as you’re OK, darling, tell me about it in a minute. First, I have some news for you.”

  My mother. Yes. I loved her, and I still relied on her even though I was over thirty and had lived on my own for a while. She was my role model, strong, professional instructor of popular criminology classes, admired, sure of herself… “What?”

  “I said, isn’t it wonderful? He fell in love with Apple Grove. Or, more specifically, with one of Apple Grove’s own. He’s graduating in May, though he’s been pretty sneaky this semester, not on campus very much. All very hush-hush of course. Spending time in Virginia while doing some independent study work with me.”

  “Mom! Who?”

  “Why, that darling Amy, of course. Amy Collins from Ethereal Events. Don’t tell me you’ve gone and changed your mind about the wedding venue. I’ve been on the phone with her, and I can just tell she’s perfectly adorable. I’m so pleased with everything she’s done for the wedding so far.”

  That wasn’t who I meant, but I followed the new rabbit trail. “Wait…you’ve been talking to her?”

  “Of course. How else am I supposed to stay on top of things when I’m two hours away? Now, we’ll come down—he’s offered to drive,—probably early, if I know that eager young man. We’ll meet you and Adam there. I’ll treat you to lunch afterward. There is somewhere besides that little diner, isn’t there?”

  “Who are we talking about? I’m afraid I, um, had a bad connection for a minute…”

  Her laugh forgave my little deception while letting me know she realized my poor connection was not technical but in my brain. “Why, Elvis, of course. Surely you remember him?”

  “Our Elvis?” Squee!

  “Of course, darling. Who else did you think I was talking about?”

  “Seems like forever since he and the girls were here…just last fall. That was brilliant, sending students here from your criminology class for field work credits.”

  “Yes, well, I’m always happy to do what I can. I’m glad they could make headway toward that murder of yours.”

  “Hmm, it wasn’t mine. Poor Donald. Anyway, Elvis is certainly coming at the right time. Stanley needs help.”

  “What did that boy do now?”

  Mom’s sigh made me want to defend Stanley. “He says he had nothing to do with the murder.”

  “Don’t tell me that girl from the diner is dead. The one he dated even while he tried to win you back?”

  I dropped the phone.

  4

  On our way to Ethereal Events the next morning, I shifted uneasily in the front seat of the truck, still trying to form the best way to tell Adam about Stanley and Elvis. I grinned when I considered how the names together sounded like a classic rock band.

  “What’s so funny? Dollar for your thoughts.”

  I hedged. “Taylor was so cute this morning. The Robbinses are taking care of the cats while we’re gone. She was so prim and proper, taking ‘notes’ about when to feed them. She’s just learning to put letters together, and she has this cute notebook with flowers and kitties on it, which she informed me were not Egypshun Moos.”

  Adam squeezed my arm and chuckled. “Martha i
s one busy mom.”

  A busy mom…yeah…someday would that be me? I made an effort not to sigh. “So, I had some texts from Stanley.”

  Adam’s hands tightened for a second on the wheel, then released.

  “He…he was arrested.”

  We coasted to a stop at the intersection before the wedding venue.

  Adam rolled down his window despite the fifty-two-degree chill. “Need some air.” He tapped the wheel. “What for?” His voice was even, controlled.

  “This wasn’t my best timing,” I muttered. “As usual. He got himself involved in Ivanna’s murder—”

  “Now it’s a murder? And, what? Stanley Brewer? The weak little dumpling of a fellow who’d get bruised just from putting boxing gloves on?”

  “Now wait—”

  Squealing tires and revving engine sounds refocused my attention as a shiny red, open convertible zipped past us, through the intersection while our light was still red. Honking horns and the ripping noise of skidding tires followed.

  “What in the world?” Adam followed more sedately when the light changed.

  “Should we call the police?”

  “Maybe. When we get there. Let’s put our conversation about your former boyfriend on hold, shall we?”

  “Right.” I took a deep breath. “I just wanted to tell you so you heard it from me. And because we’ll probably see an old friend today.”

  Adam glanced sideways at me while signaling to turn into Ethereal Events’ parking lot. We drove around back to the office entrance, which was blocked by a red convertible, top down, parked haphazardly across the sidewalk and flowerbed. Fortunately, it was too early for mature plants to be in bloom, though bits of green shoots had been churned up and spit out behind the tires.

  I didn’t wait for Adam to turn off the truck. I unbuckled and let my safety belt rewind with a snap as I thrust open the door.

  Loud voices funneled through the screen of the lifted office window.

  I cringed when I heard a familiar tone.

  “Now just a minute, missy. My daughter and future son-in-law, thank the Lord at last, have an appointment. You’ll just have to wait.”