by Sarah Hualde
Mario’s absence was all the more palpable as the Farmers Market season dawned on Honey Pot. Mario not only ran the market and advertised it. He also inspected each farm for You Pick compliance.
You Pick required that each vendor’s wares came from local, homegrown, or homemade products. No reselling allowed. Once Easter ended, Mario Muggs donned his inspector’s button and carted his satchel from greenhouse to greenhouse.
These sites were also checked for clues. Mario Muggs simply disappeared. He left home one morning and never returned. Cordelia did her best to carry on, but the burden tugged on her worry lines.
It didn’t help when neighbors continually debated her husband’s health and whereabouts in front of her. In Jacqui and Rene’s living room, Cordelia sat stiff and straight on the plastic-wrapped antique armchair. Her eyes glittered with past pain but focused sincerely on Miss Jacqui’s injury.
“I’ll drive her into the city.” Dr. Lawrence juggled his keys between his palms.
“Rene, dear, please pack me a small overnight bag.” Rene hobbled up the stairs, stepping sideways to protect her ancient knees. “Now, one of you needs to make sure Rene takes her meds and calls her nephew. She’ll need to stay with him, while I’m healing. The doctor thinks I’ll be in Ashton for a few days. After that, I’ll need a bit before I can take care of Rene. Don’t tell her but she’s a mess without me. Seriously,” the lady whispered, “she’s not been at her peak. The last few weeks have been a trial on my patience.” Lydia and Cordelia nodded as they listened to Jacqui and watched Rene. “Write it down.”
“Oops. I’m on it!” Lydia scurried to the kitchen and retrieved a magnetic to-do list. Its matching pen clattered to the floor, and Lydia scooped it up before Miss Jacqui could huff at her. “I’m ready.”
Miss Jacqui relayed names and phone numbers. She detailed errands and jobs. Lydia marveled. Miss Jacqui was busier than met the eye. Who was going to do all these things, now? She felt terrible for Miss Rene’s nephew.
“Lydia... Lydia...” the wounded woman called.
“Yes, I’m writing. Keep delegating.”
“After you get the vendors set up, you’ll need to find someone to host my market classes. Remember to display the wedding quilt but under no circumstances are you to sell it. It’s the ringer prize and draws in customers. Don’t promise it but allude to it being available. Entice the customers to take a class and make a quilt of their own.”
Lydia scribbled away. Cordelia helped Miss Rene down the stairs with a small suitcase. Ethan grabbed the bag from the strangely fragile Miss Jacqui and carted it to his cruiser. He secured his passengers and turned back to his wife. After a sweet swift kiss, he patted Lydia on the back. “It’s so good of you to take on Miss Jacqui’s jobs. I’m impressed. I’ll call you on my way home.”
Lydia waved to Ethan as he pulled away and switched on his siren. Then the words hit her. “Me? I volunteered?”
“Jacqui’s a wonderful recruiter.” Miss Rene stated in her flat conspicuous manner as she teetered back into the house. “Don’t forget, there’s still a room of boxes to load.”
Lydia whimpered to herself. Not yet 8 am, and she was exhausted.
Chapter 3
Kat Miller, wife of Thaddeus Miller and friend to Lydia, stood outside her van. Her kids ran around the vacant lawn. Kat caught up on her social media time while they played. Lydia was on her way, and there was nothing to do until then. Youth group volunteers, from the surrounding churches, were scheduled to arrive in an hour.
Flora’s husband, Kevin, drove up to the van and his three oldest children streamed from his truck doors. Momma Flora took the morning off to snuggle with the newest member of her clan, Enoch Brandes. Kevin waved from the driver’s seat. Kat returned the gesture before he drove away, making her the babysitter of the day.
The three Brandes children, Eloise, Ever, and Eden galloped around the park with Sam and Jess Miller. Kat pocketed her phone when she spotted Lydia’s car enter the Main circle. Lydia exited her car limping. Her injuries from her experiment with running were healed. Kat determined that weariness weighed Lydia down. Her friend wasn’t sporting her usual jug of coffee. Kat needed to rectify Lydia’s caffeine depletion or everyone’s morning would suffer.
Kat greeted Lydia but was more excited to see Ivy pull up with Baby Scout. She waved the teenager over with urgency.
“Good morning, Kat,” Ivy said, using Scout’s pudgy hand to wave at her friend.
“Yeah. Get over here quick.” Ivy tightened her hold on Scout and shuffled over to Kat. The woman slipped a twenty-dollar bill into Ivy’s palm. “Lydia forgot her coffee. You need to run to 3 Alarm and bring some back.” Ivy nodded and tucked Scout into her baby carrier, fastening her in snuggly. “Hurry.”
The teenage mom and her adored baby girl bounced across Main St. without added discussion. Ivy knew Lydia too well to deny her the favored crutch.
Lydia dragged her body over to Kat’s van. “I’m pooped.”
“No, you’re doomed. If you were sucked into running the Market, as you said, then you’re doomed.” Lydia defied the remark with a hopeful, pining glance at her friend. “Oh, no. Nope. You’re not pulling me into this with you. I’ve tangoed with Miss Jacqui before and survived. I like our relationship like it is. Intact and brimming with boundaries. No, sorry. Other than manual help, you’re on your own. I suspect you’ve been given a list? Let me see it.”
Lydia complied. Kat chuckled as she flipped through the tasks. “It’s not funny.”
“Yes, it is. You said you were bored. Now you won’t be,” Kat said.
“I can’t do all these jobs on my own.”
Kat handed back the pad. “If you say so.” Ivy arrived with three cups of coffee. One for her and one for the other moms. Lydia popped the cap off her cup and drank deeply.
“Where’s your sidekick?” Kat asked Ivy, leading the group over toward the playing children.
“Who?”
“Emily?”
Lydia stopped nursing from her disposable cup. She answered for Ivy. “There’s been a small wrinkle in their relationship.” Kat nodded with understanding.
“Girls.” Kat surmised. “We have a terrible habit of sabotaging the best of friendships. Let me guess, boys? She wants yours, or you want hers?”
Ivy offered a snack puff to Scout. The baby gummed the treat and spat it back out. It crusted to her mother’s shirt. “Boys, yes. Me, no. She’s gone crazy over boys and can’t stop herself. She keeps making horrible choices and won’t listen to me when I beg her to see reason.”
Kat sympathized. “That’s too bad.”
✽✽✽
Cordelia Muggs entered the town square. She was happy to see the gaggle of girls coming her way. After the morning’s drama and rush, she’d do anything to avoid sitting in her empty living room. Habit and tradition drew her to the lawn. She and Mario would have been walking the park, hand in hand. Tears welled but refused to run. Cordelia put on her best brave face and volunteered her assistance.
“I’m not sure where to start,” Lydia confessed.
“Leave it to me. Hobo Joe has the memorial well in hand. I’ll walk over and check. After that, I’ll begin contacting the vendors to arrange their arrival. All I need you to do is work the Quilter’s booth.”
Kat laughed hysterically and excused herself from the cluster. Offended, Lydia stiffened her shoulders. “No problem. However, I can’t ask you to tackle all this work. Not when ...”
Cordelia reached a steady hand for Lydia’s. “Mario would want me to continue our work.” Kat averted her eyes, as she returned to the huddle. Lydia frowned. “No, I’m okay. Just missing him.”
“You haven’t heard anything? Anything at all?” Lydia was the first to break the quiet.
The lonely lady shook her head and cleared her throat, dislodging her grief. “I haven’t spoken to Mario for 58 days.” Lydia’s eyes reflected her worry. “No, please. Let’s have a good time today. Let’s make thi
s the best season, ever, for the market. Every day I make a bit more peace with the situation. It’s like Miss Rene said, my Mario is dead. He’s been dead since he went missing. I know, I’d feel something if he were alive. I feel nothing. Only sadness.”
“Are you sure, you’re okay?”
“If I’m not, I will be. Let’s get plugging away. I’ll talk to Hobo Joe. When the youth groups arrive, I’ll help direct them.”
“Well, okay then.” Lydia’s steps lightened. A great burden released. She needed to help Cordelia but not lead the entire Market. Compared to Cordelia’s job, running the Crafter’s Corner was a cakewalk.
Ivy spoke Lydia’s thoughts, “That’s a huge relief.”
Kat crossed her arms; still not sure Lydia could handle what was to come. “But Lydia, you know nothing about crafting. Or quilting. You can’t even speak the lingo. How will you manage? What if Jacqui’s out of commission for weeks or for the entire season?”
“Don’t freak her out, Kat.” Ivy laughed and squeezed Lydia’s elbow. “She’ll be fine. She can’t be that witless.”
“Oh yes, I can.” Lydia hesitated before speaking. Maybe she could become crafty. How hard could it be? She ran a 5k, after all. Compared to that disastrous experiment, quilting would be a cakewalk. A great place to reset. She’d never heard of any murderers hanging around the local church lady craft stands. Helping in the Market, finding her crafty side, and keeping busy were ideal for Lydia’s current gloominess. The fair was precisely what she needed. Her internal pep talk was interrupted by a cry.
Lydia and Kat ran toward the yelling. Ivy straggled farther behind, opting to stay closer to the playing kids. She walked as far as her instincts would let her and squinted, hoping to see what was happening.
Cordelia met her friends at the edge of the cross memorial garden. “He’s ... he’s dead. I know it!” She blubbered without stopping.
“Mario?” Lydia dropped her coffee cup and ran. Kat stayed behind calming Cordelia. A man lay outstretched among the white crosses. It wasn’t Mario Muggs. Mario was a short man with a friar tuck wreath of graying hair. This man’s hair was full and luscious, a whitening silver.
Careful not to injure him further, Lydia sunk onto the grass by his head. “Joe?” She choked, shocked and saddened. “Dear Lord, not Joe.” The fallen man grumbled in response to his name. He coughed and sucked in a ragged breath. “Thank you, God. Joe, it’s Lydia Everett. I’m calling the police. Please, please, keep fighting.”
Hobo Joe stretched his arm out slowly, grazing Lydia’s knee. She took his hand in hers and dialed for help while praying aloud. “Amen.” Joe echoed her ending before falling back into weightless sleep.
Chapter 4
Kat led Cordelia to the town’s makeshift bandstand. Lovely and white, the structure only saw daylight in the summer. Thad, Kat’s husband, set it up after the Lavender Festival. Kat ushered the shaken woman to the steps and planted her there. “Ivy, gather up the kids, will you? Get them back in the van and put on a JellyTelly video. Don’t let them out. I’ll come over as soon as I can.”
The teen hustled to gather the running children. With one hand on the back of Scout’s head, she jumped, skipped, and danced them to the van.
“Why are we leaving?” Eden asked and asked and asked.
“Your mom wants you to be safe,” Ivy replied.
“We’re not safe at the park?” Jess wondered over their sudden withdrawal from the town center.
“The park isn’t safe,” Eloise said.
“Maybe Ivy needed to get away from all those hormones.” Eden reflected in a paused moment.
Ivy spun around. “What hormones?” She blushed and encouraged the girl to rejoin their flight to the van.
Eden stood and pointed to the pack of teenagers exiting the Church of Christ Joy Bus. “Those!”
Ivy’s blush flash-fired through her body. “Oh.”
“Yeah, Mom’s told me. Hormones are how we got a baby brother.” Wise Eden contemplated how stinky, sweaty boys added up to adorable baby brothers. As she walked back to the car with Ivy, she reflected on Scout’s sleepy face. “But I guess you already knew that.” She blurted and gave Ivy a consoling pat on the back before entering the van’s sliding door.
Ivy locked the children in and started the video. She disengaged the drowsy Scout and cuddled her in the driver’s side seat. With no idea what was going on in the park, she watched as Kat herded the onslaught of teenagers over to the gazebo and flagged down their leaders. Ivy couldn’t help searching the crowd for Emily.
She missed her friend. Her crazy, reckless friend searched for meaning in the arms of one of these youth group boys. Ivy never met him. She’d caught a glimpse of him through a car window. That was all. Even if his heart was solid diamond and he radiated with the love of Christ, she worried over Emily’s intense attraction to him. Emily needed his affection. She required his approval. She demanded his undistracted devotion, and she wasn’t selective about how to get it. Anything that made him pine was all part of her plan.
Ivy once needed a friend that badly. She needed companionship and hope so much she’d traded her virginity and almost her future for it. God had brought blessing from her painful past. Scout dazzled her days. Ivy prayed that her friend didn’t have to learn about life the same way she did. However, it was Emily’s life, and Ivy couldn’t make her choices for her.
Still, she looked out for Emily. If only from afar. For a moment, Ivy thought she’d caught a peek of her friend. But the girl blurred into the crowd a second later. If it was Emily, she didn’t look good.
✽✽✽
Cordelia panted into a brown paper lunch sack. “This is too much. Too much!” She repeated the phrase. Kat couldn’t slow down to sit by her. She was busy leading the helpers and discussing things with their leaders.
An ambulance whined and called. The teens stopped chatting to watch it pull up onto the town lawn and drive to its center. Kat felt the disgust Miss Jacqui would communicate to Lydia when she saw the yard destroyed.
She commissioned the leaders to take their charges back to the vehicles until the ambulance left. The leaders, barely out of adolescence themselves, hurried their followers back to their cars. The teens sat, faces pressed to the windows, and watched the scene.
Kat returned to the hyperventilating Cordelia.
✽✽✽
“Didn’t we get a call about a car wreck from you?” One paramedic questioned Lydia.
“It wasn’t exactly a car wreck. Also, the injured woman made me cancel the call.”
“I guess it’s a good thing we were already halfway there, or this guy might not have had a chance.” The man followed his team back to the ambulance.
Lydia stood back, observing the smashed grass and blood spatter. She cried, smothering her tears in the palms of her hands. She hated violence. It sickened her to imagine Joe’s attack. She needed to vent out all of her sorrow, terror, and disgust before heading back to the other women. What was she going to tell them? How would she get the words to form without gagging on her memories? She cried and prayed until the ambulance siren disappeared and her cellphone trilled.
Chapter 5
“Poor Cordelia. She thought it was Mario.” Lydia relayed her day to Ethan. He spooned a serving of peach cobbler over a hot plate of cinnamon rolls. Lydia added whipped cream. She didn’t feel like eating, but the earthy scent of the fresh ground spice called to her. Ethan filled two glasses with iced water. No one was going to feel well after they shared the dessert. He hoped water would help speed the sugar through their systems.
“What made her believe it was Mario?”
Lydia shrugged and sliced her fork through the layers of sugar and fat. “If you were missing, I’d look for you everywhere. She probably sees his face in every crowd.” A droplet of cream landed on Lydia’s wrist, and she licked it clean without thought. “We came from Jacqui’s accident. We’d been talking about Mario a minute before she found Hobo Joe.”
“Are you asking me as a Sheriff or as my husband? You’re using your cop voice.”
Ethan didn’t reply. He took a bite of his midday dessert and looked away from his wife’s brown eyes.
“She was searching for Joe so they could sort out the memorial and see if he would help set up a few of the booths. That’s all.” Now Lydia devoured a bite of the bun. Its flavor tingled her taste buds as she chomped in confused frustration. The tiny wrinkles between her eyebrows carved a deep V. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she has some sort of episode. Today was horrid— first, the car. Then, Miss Jacqui and then she finds Mr. Joe beaten and bleeding and... and...”
Lydia nearly cried. She almost let down her mother and wife shield; long enough, to let Ethan’s caring eyes get to her emotions. However, if she allowed that to happen she didn’t think she’d be able to stop. She’d also miss her impromptu sewing lesson from Flora. The town’s craft fair depended on her figuring out how to quick-stitch a square. Lydia couldn’t afford to slow down and let her feelings surface. Not yet. Instead, she swallowed her tears, allowing all her shock to rid its way through her stomach atop whipped cream and cinnamon.
Ethan noticed but said nothing. In time he knew his wife would curl into his side and explain all. It was an intimate agreement they each understood. Hold it together when we have to be apart. Fall apart when we have time to be together. He’d wait.
✽✽✽
Kat didn't usually host so many children in her home, all by herself. The noise level surprised her. Her mind pushed against itself in a struggle to escape the chaotic conversations and random shrieking that accompanied five children under 13, a baby, and a teenager.
Ivy, however, loved the company. Not much more than a child herself, she played board games with the boys and braided the girls’ hair. Scout slept soundly on Kat’s shoulder.
