Deadly Sweet Tooth

by Kaye George

  Kevin said, “I think you should have your Clark Bars. I like that fudge with Baileys in it, too. I have a Petite Syrah that would be good with the fudge. If you do Twinkies, I’ll bring some Riesling.”

  They discussed sweet treats and wine for a few more minutes until Tally changed the subject.

  “Okay,” she said, pointing to the three sheets of paper spread on the table. “What do you think of the applicants?”

  Yolanda looked them over and held one up. “This one.”

  “Let me see.” Kevin wiped his fingers so the butter from his roll wouldn’t get on it. “Greer Tomson,” he read. “She didn’t graduate from high school. Is that a problem?”

  “I’m not sure,” Tally said. “The other two I liked are a bit younger. One is eighteen and the other one twenty. Greer has lots of work experience, so that might be good.”

  “Maybe too much,” Yolanda said, frowning at the paper in her hand. “She seems to change jobs a lot.”

  “You’re right,” Kevin agreed, reaching for the paperwork from the other two and looking it over. “But she’s the only one with retail experience.”

  “The good thing is,” Tally said, “that I can try her out at the reception and then decide if I want to hire her to work in the store.”

  The server came and took their orders—hamburger, cheeseburger, and veggie burger.

  “Back to the hired help,” Kevin said, staying on point. “Are you just using one person at the reception?”

  Tally gave it some thought. “What do both of you think? Do we need more?”

  “What can you afford?” Yolanda asked. She was much better at managing money than Tally was. In fact, she helped Tally with the books in her shop when she couldn’t make things balance.

  “You probably know that better than I do.” Tally laughed and Kevin chuckled.

  “I think you’re doing pretty darn well lately. You could hire all three, just for that day, then decide which two you want to keep.”

  Tally liked that idea. Like buying three pair of shoes, then returning the one or two pair that hurt her feet after an hour on the carpet at home. She decided to call all three and offer them jobs for Saturday. She would do it first thing in the morning.

  As the three friends were winding up their dinner and waiting for the bill, a couple they all knew came through the door and were seated at a table near them. The pair looked like Jack Sprat and his wife, reversed. The woman was thin, with what looked like a perpetual frown on her creased face, which was topped by gray, short curls that always made Tally think of a mop. The man, in contrast, was bald, potbellied, and wore a jovial expression on his round face. Friendly eyes twinkled under his bushy eyebrows. The woman sat facing them, glanced in their direction, gathered her frown lines to new depths, loudly cleared her throat, then concentrated on her menu.

  Kevin saw Tally’s own frown and gave her a questioning look.

  “Later,” she said.

  “Yes, later,” Yolanda added.

  * * * *

  Yolanda was surprised, but glad, when Kevin took her elbow and guided her out of the restaurant, just like they were an old married couple. She was beginning to look at him with a different view. He was older than she was, but seemed interested. She could do a lot worse.

  When they were outside the restaurant Kevin asked again. “Do you not like the Abrahams?”

  Yolanda started to answer, but Tally beat her to it. “Lennie is okay,” she said, “but I can’t stand his wife, Frances. She’s had it in for my mother since I can remember.”

  “Tally’s right,” Yolanda said. “She finds something mean to say about Tally’s mom every time they’re in town.”

  “What’s her problem?” Kevin asked. “I’ve heard only good things about your mom from several of my customers. They’re excited she’s going to be in town. I thought everyone liked her. Both of them, really.”

  They were walking toward Tally’s house first, since she lived the closest. Yolanda wondered if Kevin was going to come to her place and stay for a while. Or overnight. The tree frogs were in full voice, their songs ringing above them through the night from the live oaks and crape myrtles that lined the streets. The air was deliciously cooler than the mid-nineties high of the day. The thermometer was heading for the high sixties and Yolanda wished she had a sweater on.

  “That’s one of the problems,” Yolanda said. “Everyone likes Nancy, but hardly anyone likes Fran. Nancy is an old girlfriend of Fran’s husband. Lennie still acts very friendly when he sees Nancy, which doesn’t help anything.”

  Kevin pulled his head back and frowned. “Nancy is Mrs. Holt’s first name? And she was a girlfriend of Mr. Abraham?”

  Yolanda and Tally both nodded.

  Kevin continued, “That must have been a long time ago. You’re—what—in your thirties? So it had to be more than thirty years ago.”

  “Yes,” Tally said. “Fran has been a thorn in my mom’s side for their whole lives.”

  “One problem Fran has is competition,” Yolanda said. “They’re both performers, after all.”

  Yolanda had known Frances Abraham her whole life. Mrs. Abraham presently directed the local theater group and ruled it with an iron fist. To anyone she considered competition, she was extra-nasty. She had sent more than one aspiring starlet home in tears, wanting all the starring roles for herself. That became more and more problematic as she aged and her face became more and more set into permanent harsh lines that you could now see even beyond the stage. She had verbally attacked Yolanda’s own sister, Violetta, so harshly and so often that Vi had dropped out of the one production she had tried out for. She’d been slated to have a starring role, too, but couldn’t work under Fran. Yolanda remembered her little sister coming home in tears after every rehearsal until she quit.

  “I’ve wondered before why Lennie puts up with her,” Kevin said. “They come into Bear Mountain sometimes and whatever wine he picks out, she nixes. She’s the boss.”

  “From working with them, I can tell you this,” Yolanda answered. “He mostly ignores her. Just hammers the sets together and paints them and doesn’t pay attention to what goes on in front of his scenery.”

  “I’d forgotten,” Tally said to Yolanda. “You were in some of her plays, weren’t you?”

  “A while ago, when I was much younger. I didn’t like working with her, but I stuck it out for a short time. Three productions one summer. I think most people who are in her productions put up with her because they love the stage.”

  “No one forgets the past in a small town like this,” Kevin said.

  “And she’s not a bad director, just a limelight hog,” Yolanda said.

  “Too skinny for a hog,” Kevin answered, and they all laughed.

  They rounded the corner to Tally’s block of East Shubert and she stopped. “It’s a day early! He’s here already!”

  Her brother’s Volvo sat in her driveway.

  Chapter 2

  “He was coming tomorrow, right?” Yolanda said.

  “Right, he was. Nothing is ready. I’ll see you two later.” Tally took off, walking quickly, and Yolanda and Kevin headed toward Yolanda’s, on West Shubert.

  Tally composed herself walking the block to her front yard. There wasn’t that much to do. She had to get out some linens for her brother to use on her couch, and a set of towels. If he had eaten, there wouldn’t be dinner to make. She was exhausted and had been for days, getting ready for the gathering.

  The quiet street, shaded by overhanging trees, soothed her. She strolled beneath them, hugging the curb since there were no sidewalks in her neighborhood. A radio played softly on the front porch she passed. She waved to the old man and he waved back, a ghostly motion in the darkness.

  Maybe, she thought, it would be a good thing that her brother was here now. If she could put him to work, that is. They cou
ld use extra help. The trouble was, Cole pretty much did his own thing most of the time. Whenever Tally tried to influence his boorish behavior toward women, for example, nothing she did or said had any effect. Especially with his worst habit. He would date one woman, tire of her, then start dating Woman Number Two without officially breaking it off with Woman Number One. Most recently, he’d been seeing a young local woman named Dorella Diggs, when he had stayed briefly before taking off for Albuquerque to work on his commissioned statue. That was also when he had left Nigel with Tally. Another abandonment.

  Tally had never had a cat before and was miffed when Cole assumed he could just dump the animal on her. It didn’t take long before Tally got over that, since darling Nigel had won her over quickly.

  She was curious to see if Cole would still be seeing Dorella this weekend. He would probably have to rush back to New Mexico after the reception. He didn’t stay put for long.

  As she walked up the porch steps, she heard Nigel let out a loud ree-ow. She pushed the door open. “What are you doing to the cat, Cole?” she teased.

  “Hey, he heard you coming. He’s greeting you. Have you left him all day with nothing to eat?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. How are you doing? And I fed him about two hours ago.”

  Cole ignored her sarcasm. “It’s a boring drive once you get away from Albuquerque. You should come up with me when I go back.”

  “Why would I like to go on a boring drive with you?”

  They both stuck their tongues out at each other.

  Nigel rubbed against her leg, purring, with a few trills added in, no doubt grateful she had fed him.

  Tally kicked off her shoes and padded into the kitchen to check Nigel’s bowls. His water was almost empty.

  “Oh, sorry, big guy. You’re running out of water.”

  Was Nigel raising his eyebrows at her? She thought he would probably roll his eyes if he could.

  “I know. Sorry doesn’t cut it.” She filled his bowl at the faucet and set it on the floor.

  Nigel sniffed it, took a tentative lap, then curled up on the floor. Maybe he was saving the water for later.

  “How could I go with you to New Mexico, Cole?” she said, returning to the living room. “What would happen to my shop if I just flitted off whenever I felt like it?”

  “Don’t bite my head off, Sis.” He gave her the Wounded Little Brother look.

  She had to admit she’d sounded testy. She sat on the other end of the couch from Cole and curled up in the corner. “Sorry. But I really can’t leave whenever I want. Right now I’m opening the shop seven days a week, except for this Saturday, to take advantage of the peak tourist season. I’ll lay low after the beginning of the year when things slow down. Maybe we can do something together then.”

  “Tourists come here in August? I mean, I know they do. I can see the crowds. But I’ve always wondered why. It’s so hot here. You’d think people would go somewhere cooler.”

  They had both grown up in Fredericksburg, but neither had ever viewed the town with an entrepreneurial eye as children.

  “Christmas shopping, of course,” Tally said. “We merchants try to make them believe they need to shop for months and months. Merchants everywhere do that. And most people who come here to Fredericksburg believe it, I think.”

  “I know you’re right. The Christmas Shop does good business year-round, doesn’t it? I remember that from when I was here.”

  The television was on, muted. He had probably muted it when she came in. Out of the corner of her eye, Tally caught an ad for a man running for mayor. He was unfamiliar. “Who’s that?” she asked. “Do you know?”

  “How would I know? I just got here.”

  It was his turn to snap at her, but now, Tally figured, they were even. “I’ve never seen his ads before. I wonder if he’s new around town.”

  Nigel strolled in from the kitchen and hopped up beside Tally, setting up a rumbling, purring racket.

  “How’s the party going?” Cole asked. “You got everything under control?”

  “I wish! I’ve interviewed people until I’m cross-eyed and have come up with exactly three who I think might work.” Tally was worn out. She wanted to stay on her soft, secondhand navy blue couch until morning, it was so comfy. Nigel looked as if he agreed with her and would like to do that, too.

  “Interviewed for what? For the sweet shop?”

  “To help serve the reception, first of all. Then, if any of them work out, I’ll hire one or two for the store.”

  “What about Dorella?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’d be great in your store.”

  “Cole, I interviewed people who applied for the job. I didn’t get an application from her.”

  “Maybe she didn’t know about it.”

  Tally bit her tongue to keep from saying what she was thinking. “I can’t read people’s minds and go looking for them. Does that make sense?”

  Nigel licked her arm. Did he approve of Dorella?

  “Okay.” Cole gave her a sullen look, then brightened. “Hey, you have anything to eat?”

  Of course he was hungry. She’d been so comfy.

  Before she pushed herself up to see if there was anything to feed to her brother, Cole’s phone chirped.

  “Hey, it’s Dorella,” he said, rising from the couch. “Maybe she’ll feed me.” He went to the kitchen to take the call.

  She had to assume he was still seeing her. That was a good sign. Maybe he was settling down and not flitting between women as often as usual.

  When he came back, he said that Dorella was coming over to pick him up.

  “She’s really buying you dinner?” Tally wondered if anything was still open this late.

  “I’m buying, Sis. I was just kidding.”

  “Where you going?”

  “Otto’s is still open. She doesn’t have to work her day job tomorrow.”

  “So you’ll be late coming back here? Don’t wake me up when you get in, okay? I have to go to the shop early tomorrow.”

  “How come?” Cole smoothed his hair in front of the mirror that hung by Tally’s front door.

  “I’m going to call in the three women I want to hire before the shop opens. I want to give them some instructions and make sure they can work on Saturday.”

  A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Cole tucked his lips in and checked his teeth in the mirror. He smiled at his reflection and opened the door to let Dorella Diggs in, still wearing his big grin.

  Nigel jumped down from the couch and greeted the newcomer with a chirp and a headbutt to her leg. Dorella reached down to stroke his broad back.

  Tally wished she had Dorella’s soft blond curls. They nestled around her heart-shaped face perfectly. If he was going by looks, no wonder Cole was still with her. But she was also likeable. Her only flaw known to Tally was an occasional flare-up of her quick temper.

  “You have flowers in my vase,” Dorella said, straightening up and looking at the carnations in the blue vase on Tally’s shelf. Dorella worked at Burger Kitchen, but also made pottery and had given the handsome handmade vase to Tally the last time Cole was in town.

  “I love it,” Tally said, truthfully. “Anything looks good in it.”

  “See you sometime tomorrow,” Cole said, herding Dorella out the door. “Bye, Tally.”

  Nigel climbed into Tally’s lap and they settled in to watch some television before she got too sleepy to keep her eyes open. Not for too long, though. She did have to get in early tomorrow.

  * * * *

  Tally called all three prospects first thing Thursday morning from her office in Tally’s Olde Tyme Sweets and they all said they would show up in a few minutes. That was a good sign, she hoped. Her shop was due to open at ten, in about forty-five minutes, which gave her enough time to give the
m some preliminary instructions.

  Lily Vale was the first to arrive and Molly Kelly came in a few minutes later. They were both young. Lily had just graduated from high school and Molly had recently dropped out of her freshman year of college. On her application, she had indicated that a family situation dictated she move back home.

  Tally met them at the front door, unlocked it to let them in, ringing the chimes as they entered, and showed them into the kitchen behind the salesroom. They all pulled out stools and sat at the island. Tally rested her elbows on the cool taupe granite countertop.

  “Thank you for coming in this morning on such short notice.” If they hadn’t been able to come this morning, she still had another day before the event. “First of all, I want you to know what my products are because that’s what you’ll be serving at the party. Can y’all both still work all day Saturday?”

  They both nodded.

  “The reception is for your parents?” Lily asked, opening her already large brown eyes wider with her question. She was thin and graceful, with long reddish hair that shone in the warm sunlight coming through the paned windows on the rear wall of the kitchen.

  “Yes, they haven’t been home for a long time. A lot of people in the town are coming to see them. They won’t be here long, so I have to squeeze this in.”

  “How come?” Molly asked. She was the opposite of Lily in appearance. Her hair was dark and very short, and her eyes a brilliant blue. “I mean, how come they’re gone all the time?”

  “They’re performers, musicians and dancers. They take their act all over the world.”

  “Sounds like they’re doing well,” Lily said. “I’m a dancer, too.”

  “Do you dance locally?” Tally asked.

  “I’ve done some at the Palace, that place that Frances Abraham runs.”

  “That’s rad,” Molly said, giving Lily a high five.

  Tally didn’t have much time for chitchat, so she brought them back to the topic. “Here’s a list of what we’ll serve at the reception.” She set a printout before them so they could look it over.