Magical Blessings

by Candace Colt

  With nothing more than a casual hello, Beau led her through the shop and past workbenches to a small kitchenette. He moved some things inside the refrigerator, so the dish could fit.

  I have se—veral calls.” He pointed to his desk. “You still want to t—ackle this?”

  Abby stood with one hand on her hip and tapped her lips with the other. A broad smile creased her face. She sat in Beau’s captain’s chair and rolled up to the desk. “I’ll need your laptop. Is there an Internet connection?”

  “I’ll l—og you in.” As he leaned over her to type the code, his cheek brushed her curls. She swore she felt a tiny shock. Static?

  “Help your—self to the cof—fee machine. If you need me, just c—all. Gotta go.”

  “Wait a sec,” she said.

  He stopped at the door and turned. “Yeah?”

  “Do you have one of those clipboard gizmos with a storage compartment? Like service people have.”

  “I might, some—where.”

  “Beats using your truck’s dashboard.” She giggled. “Want me to order one? I see you have an online store account.”

  “If you want.”

  “See you for lunch,” she called after him, but he was already half-way to his truck.

  She huffed a laugh. “Somebody had a bad night.”

  Two hours later, Abby came up for air. The coffee machine made tea as well, so while she waited for the water to heat, she toured the shop. Beau certainly was well stocked with tools and supplies. She remembered that he’d bought the place from someone, so that explained the inventory. Likely he didn’t have a handle on that, either. Revenue and expenses came first, then she’d work on the rest.

  Diving into his books was great therapy, and she’d only thought about him once, or twice, or maybe five times all morning. Kind of hard not to think about him, when his woodsy-scented aftershave had lingered, as did his abrupt exit.

  He was mighty trusting to allow her access to this information. But it was in desperate condition. No wonder he’d gone through bookkeepers.

  Beau was a lot like Theo. An artist in his own right, but disorganized. Creative types often were. Sipping her tea at the desk, she admired her work. She’d set up Beau’s office using the same method she had used in Theo’s place, and with Scarlett’s stolen goods.

  Two more hours passed before Abby checked the time. It was after one, and she was hungry. She left the desk and put the casserole in the microwave. In minutes, the aroma of her aunt’s chicken and dumplings floated through the shop. When the microwave stopped, she put a helping on a paper plate. As she started back to the desk, she met Beau.

  “Wow. That smells so g—ood. I’m st—arved,” he said.

  He seemed much brighter. “My aunt made it. Help yourself,” she said.

  Beau sat on a stool next to Abby at the desk. Smiling between bites, he dug into the mountain of food piled on his plate. He was definitely in a better mood.

  But Abby hoped that her mile-long list of questions wouldn’t ruin his cheerfulness.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Three thous—and?” Beau’s voice boomed.

  “Three thousand five hundred and sixty-two to be exact.” Abby decided it was overkill to include the thirty-three cents in change. “The oldest check is three months old. I’m surprised the customer didn’t call you about it.”

  “All in undeposited ch—ecks?”

  The poor guy looked like he was going to faint. Abby got up and rolled the desk chair in his direction. “Sit here.”

  She found a pack of bottled water and brought him one. Beau immediately gulped half. “What else?”

  “If you’re ready, we can go over my notes.”

  He shrugged. “Let’s have it.”

  She spent the next fifteen minutes showing him completed work orders that matched each check. There were still several unpaid bills, but they weren’t overdue yet. She’d filled out payment checks that were ready for his signature and reconciled his checking account. She’d set up a spreadsheet on the computer, so he could keep track of income and expenses.

  “I didn’t organize your tax records for the year, but I could work on that tomorrow.” She paused for his reaction. Had she overwhelmed him?

  “All in one day?”

  “A half-day. One more thing. How many unbilled jobs are out there?”

  He pursed his lips as he pinched the back of his neck.

  “That many?” she asked.

  He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a many-times-folded paper. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she gingerly inspected the handwritten list.

  “There are more than twelve names here,” she noted. “Martha from Sugarland. Theo and Ethan. Mine from the other day. Where are the monetary values?” She squinted at him. “Beau, are these people you told you’d send a bill to later?”

  He shrugged again. “I’m be—hind.”

  “Just how many freebies are out there?” Abby measured her words against her urge to lecture him. The man was not related to her, nor were they a couple. It wasn’t her place to rag on him. But according to this note, he probably had at least another thousand dollars or more in uncollected accounts.

  “You cannot keep giving away your services!” What was wrong with him? She calmed a bit. “I’m sorry for exploding on you, but that’s why you need that clipboard. After you do a job, you go out to the truck and fill out a bill. Take the bill back in, and you get paid.”

  Like he needed her to give him lessons on how to run his business. Or maybe he did.

  “You’re right. I know. I know,” he said.

  “Well, why don’t you do it?”

  “Some jobs are so sm—all that I hate to ch—arge.”

  “Work out a scale. I could do that for you if you want. Give some jobs away, but not all of them.” If she was crossing the line, it would be worth it if it were the kick in the behind he needed.

  He defiantly shook his head. “You don’t un—derstand.”

  What was to understand? Work done, money collected. “What am I missing?”

  Beau held his finger up in a ‘wait a minute’ gesture and reached for the laptop. He typed in the name of a national electrical company website. He scrolled down to their locations and contact information that included ‘Coming soon to Cat’s Paw Cove.’

  “I’m trying to stay a—head of them.” His voice was steeped in disappointment.

  “Well, that explains a lot. But everyone knows you’re the best. Hometown boy and all that. You can still do some favors, but not sell yourself short. You need to appreciate your value and charge appropriately. Ramp up your footprint. Get some slick advertising going.”

  “I s—uppose you c—an do that, too?” he asked in a half snide way.

  “I’m a numbers girl. I don’t do publicity and advertising. I bet we, I mean you, can find someone to hire for this.”

  Beau leaned back and scanned the competitor’s website. From her position beside him, she could see his reflection on the screen. He ran his teeth over his lips until she thought they might bleed.

  “A customer of mine is a web designer.” Beau had spoken so quietly, Abby had barely heard him. Had he forgotten she was in the room?

  “He needs new kitchen lighting,” he continued talking to himself—flawlessly. “I wonder if we could barter a deal?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Enough Girl Scout good deeds for one day.

  Home and after a hot shower, Abby put on her sleep shirt, made a bowl of popcorn, and sat on the sofa ready for another exciting Friday night. She settled in to watch streaming episodes of Stranger Things. That show title could be the tagline for her life.

  As predicted, Scarlett had made an appearance at dinner time. After their orchestrated ballet over the food dish, Scarlett had snuggled into a sleepy ball beside Abby. If only she could talk to that cat. Correction. She could speak to Scarlett. She just couldn’t get answers.

  “So you know,” Abby took a sip of her cola
and kept her eyes on the TV screen. “I returned that teddy bear and made a child very happy.”

  Abby snuck a glance toward Scarlett, in a kitty-coma and likely dreaming about catching chameleons. Sleeping children and animals were best left alone, but Abby continued.

  “I’m proud of you for not bringing anything else into the house today. But darned if one of Aunt Deidra’s dolls hasn’t gone missing. I was hoping you might know something about that.”

  How silly to talk to an unresponsive cat, but it was worth a shot. “Maybe you’ve seen it. About six inches tall. Has a quirky elfish face. A pointed knit hat. Aunt Deidre said she is magical.”

  Scarlett snapped herself awake and turned to Abby. “Merearow?”

  Mysterious Scarlett-code. “Excuse me, did that mean ‘magical’ as in a question?”

  “Yeowaw,” the kitten cried and slowly nodded.

  Abby coughed out a piece of popcorn and took another sip of soda. She was tired and imagining things. Wasn’t she?

  “Scarlett, are you trying to talk?”

  When the cat nodded again, Abby raised her hand to stifle a gasp and knocked the bowl to the floor, spreading a blanket of popcorn snow over the carpet.

  Abby shut her eyes and repeated to herself: I don’t talk to cats. They can’t speak to me. This isn’t happening.

  Theo had inherited the feline communicator gene from her father, who’d gotten it from his father, through generations back to who knows when. No. Abby had imagined the kitten’s response.

  Scarlett placed a paw on Abby’s arm. “Aowawo?”

  “Am I losing it?” Abby raised her head and looked straight at the cat. “Did you try to say my name?”

  With a tiny smile, Scarlett nodded again.

  Abby’s heart jumped to her throat. She leaped from the couch and landed smack in the middle of the scattered popcorn. After several deep breaths, she gathered her wits and her words.

  “I can deal with this.” Abby held her splayed open hands toward Scarlett. “I know you’re gifted. I get that. And some of my family are gifted. But not me. Or, I thought not. Oh, dear. I’m not afraid. Maybe a bit unnerved.”

  Scarlett cocked her head and gave what Abby considered a puzzled look.

  “I’m rambling, aren’t I?” Abby said.

  Scarlett stood on all fours and arched her back in a long stretch. Then she settled down, tucked her paws under her chest, and continued staring at Abby, who lifted each foot and flicked popcorn from between her toes. As she scooped the mess back into the bowl, she spoke half to herself, half to Scarlett.

  “We have a lot to talk about, young lady. Like stealing stuff and bringing it here. Oh, and making secret deals with Beau Grayson.”

  She got on her hands and knees and reached under the sofa for the last piece of renegade popcorn. “Amazing how far those scattered,” her voice strained as she stretched her fingertips.

  Scarlett jumped from the sofa and crouched alongside Abby.

  “You’re becoming famous for your daily visits around town. But this business about taking things, especially from kids, is a pain in the behind.” Abby sat up and leaned against the sofa. “I’ll get the vacuum.”

  The kitten scrunched and scooted under the sofa and, with one over-sized mitten paw, retrieved the kernel. She wiggled back out with the fluffy corn puff speared on a dewclaw.

  Abby dumped the spoiled popcorn into the trash. She’d lost her appetite for making more. Returning to the living room, she sat cross-legged on the floor and watched Scarlett gleefully bat her faux-prey through the apartment.

  “I give up. I’ve crossed the border into crazy-ville.”

  Beau hadn’t slept a minute last night. After dealing with a talking doll that wouldn’t shut up, that he’d finally shoved into a box in his closet, and stewing about Abby, he needed a break. He’d skipped dinner and instead had gone to the boardwalk to spend time admiring the Guinevere. As peaceful as the evening had been, and as relaxed as the harbor usually made him feel, Beau was still reeling.

  How had Abby accomplished so much in a half-day? He never would have been able to make sense of all that backlog. Even the professional bookkeeper had nearly thrown him and his box out the door. As far as he knew, Abby Blessing was a reg with no magical powers, but her organizational skills were magic, for sure. Her accounting system was so simple that even he could manage it—that is if he chose to. It would be a sweeter set-up if she’d stay on and work for him.

  What was he thinking? He couldn’t afford to hire anyone part-time, let alone full-time. Despite what the doll predicted about them being a couple, Beau doubted Abby would stay after Theo got home.

  Abby’s chatter didn’t bother him, any more than his stammer bothered her. Her diatribes were frustrating at times, but they counterbalanced his habit of stumbling over words. Couldn’t he just think of Abby as an old friend like Kristy so his words would smooth out and make sense?

  Trouble was, he was beginning to think of the redhead as a lot more than a friend. The doll wanted him to believe he and Abby were right for each other. And thanks to a silly cat, he was taking Abby to the Valentine’s Day Ball.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Abby had given up laying down the law.

  What a joke to think she could sway a cat. Like that would ever happen. With the silly idea to try one last time, Abby had risen early and staked out by Scarlett’s food dish. One way or another, Abby would get her point across. No more stealing. And if the kitten had taken the doll and hidden it somewhere, there’ll be hell to pay.

  “Scarlett?” Abby rattled the kibble container. “I know you’re in here somewhere. You can’t hide forever. Hurry up if you want breakfast. I have things to do.”

  And she did have plans. It was Saturday, and the pottery retail store opened at one. Abby had hoped to finish organizing Beau’s paperwork and files by noon. Maybe she’d have time to shop for an appropriate outfit for the dance. The only thing Abby had with her was her bridesmaid dress from Theo’s wedding. The teal blue color was ideal, but it was floor-length and, well, looked wedding-like.

  She tapped her feet on the floor, pretending to walk to the pantry. “I’m putting your food away. I can’t leave it out all day. It might bring in bugs.”

  Or another pitiful mouse like the one Scarlett had taunted the other day, although, from the terrified look on that poor rodent’s face, that particular one wouldn’t be back. She smiled at the memory of how deliberate Beau had been to make sure the mouse got away safe, and how he and the tiny critter had communicated on the same wavelength.

  Abby did a double-take when she looked down to see Scarlett, who hadn’t been there one minute, but now she was. “So, this is how to find you, eh?”

  Scarlett stood at full attention while Abby filled the dish. After Abby stepped back, the cat began eating.

  “Well done!” Abby said. “Not a single bit on the floor.”

  Abby finished her tea while Scarlett gobbled down her meal, followed by a quick kitty-bath.

  “Don’t suppose you’d listen if I asked you not to roam all over town, would you?” Abby asked.

  Scarlett looked up and shook her head. While it made things easier that Abby and the feline were finally conversing, it would take some getting used to.

  “Will you at least keep your word about not stealing things?” Abby asked.

  The cat huffed a tiny breath.

  “The dance is six days from now. So, help me, if you drag one single item into this apartment between now and then, the deal is off. Are we clear?”

  Scarlett rolled her eyes.

  “If you know anything about the whereabouts of the doll, come clean.”

  With her tail raised stiff as a flagpole, Scarlett turned and walked toward the pet door. She tapped it with a paw, then looked over her shoulder.

  “I’ll unlock it in a minute.” Abby knelt down. “I love you, Scarlett. But you need to keep your side of the bargain.”

  “Leoeowowoov,” Scarlett howled
.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Scarlett put her paw on Abby’s arm. “Leoeowowoov,” the kitten repeated, this time slower.

  Startled, Abby drew back. “I said it, didn’t I? And nothing happened.”

  The cat shook her head.

  Abby scooped Scarlett into her arms and pressed her nose into the cat’s neck. “Oh my god. I can’t believe it. Luna was right. It was all in my head, with something thrown in from the hag, I guess. Oh, precious kitty, I love you.” Abby swirled through the room with the cat in her arms. “I love everybody. I love the world.”

  Beau let Abby into his shop and left for two appointments. He’d managed to find that clipboard ‘thing’ in the back of his truck under spools of electrical wire. He remembered buying it, but he’d never used it. Fortunately, there were no checks or invoices inside the box. In fact, the only things inside were blank invoices stamped with his business information.

  It seemed like a pain, but he’d give the clipboard a shot today, if for no other reason than to make Abby happy. She’d given him strict orders to stop by the bank and deposit the checks she’d found yesterday. Thank goodness only the drive-through was open, and he didn’t have to interact with the other customers.

  The teller returned the deposit slip with his current balance. For once, he had more money in the bank than what he owed to creditors. He kissed the paper and put it inside his shiny clipboard box. This was going to be a good day.

  His first stop was Bell’s Discount Market located on A1A, where he’d presented the owner, Flynn Bell, with an estimate for new security lighting for the loading dock. Flynn was well connected in the community, and landing this job could open doors.

  “That’s a reasonable price, Beau,” Flynn told him. “I feel obligated to let you know I’m getting a bid from that company out of St Augustine, too.”

  His mouth went dry as sawdust. “I understand.”

  Crap. That company seemed to beat him to the punch on every deal. They wanted in town in the worst way. Though Beau had carefully prepared his quotes and specs right down to the penny, he’d heard that the other company was promising the moon and stars at a lower cost, which nobody could honestly deliver.