by Delia Parr
Madge Stevens came to mind first, but Judy suspected that Madge was already involved with the Book Fair through Sarah’s school. She glanced down the avenue, saw the sign for Sweet Stuff and thought of Ginger King, who worked there part-time. Although Ginger had said her grandson was not staying with her much longer that day at the school when they had met, that had been several weeks ago. Judy had seen her from a distance just this morning getting into her car when dropping Brian off at school. Maybe Ginger would like to help organize the books.
Judy could ask Barbara Montgomery, too, although she was not sure if now was a good time. The announcement that the police were investigating two suspects in Steve’s death had been in the headlines for over a week now, and Judy was reluctant to intrude on Barbara’s privacy, despite their common interests in raising their grandchildren and their budding friendship. If neither Ginger nor Barbara volunteered to help, however, Judy would seriously have to face doing the job all by herself.
After crossing the street, she passed The Diner and waved to Madge who was sitting in a corner booth with her sisters, Andrea and Jenny. Two blocks later, she entered Sweet Stuff, paused just inside the door and let her senses absorb the absolute wonder of stepping into every chocoholic’s dream. The air was heavy with the scent of chocolate, and chocolate confections of every shape and size and flavor filled the glass-fronted candy cases on the wall opposite the door. Delicate pink lace curtains on the storefront window matched the painted walls and the carpet beneath her feet.
Directly ahead to her right, an old hutch displayed vintage favorites: Teaberry Gum, Mary Jane sweets, candy cigarettes—though she thought that odd—Turkish Taffy and Necco Wafers still packaged in familiar waxed paper wrappers. Small tables held party favors for every occasion. Shelves on either side of the hutch held gift baskets ready to be sent or delivered to local recipients.
Judy looked toward the back of the candy store, beyond the candy cases and the cash register, to the door that led to the kitchen. When no one came out, she walked deeper into the store, a veritable womb of chocolate that made her want to curl up and consume chocolates until she passed from this world into the next. She was halfway back when Ginger came out of the kitchen wearing a smile and an apron speckled with chocolate.
“I’m sorry. I was busy making some chocolate lollipops for the Book Fair. Oh, it’s Judy, right? We met that day at school.”
Judy rolled her eyes. “We did, indeed.”
“Can I get something for you?”
“No, I—I really came by to talk to you and ask a favor.”
Ginger grinned. “In that case, grab a piece of one of your favorites and come on back to the kitchen.”
When Judy hesitated, Ginger put one hand on her hip. “Tell me you don’t like chocolate.”
“I wish I could.”
“What’s your favorite?”
“Chocolate-covered cherries,” she blurted, then blushed. “I really shouldn’t—”
“Of course you should,” Ginger insisted and headed to the case closest to the kitchen door. “Charlene is pretty strict about making sure I follow company policy.”
Judy followed her and watched Ginger put on a pair of disposable plastic gloves and place three large chocolate-covered cherries into a small pink bag. “Company policy?”
“When Charlene hired me to work here part-time, she told me that when she opened Sweet Stuff a few years ago, she had two goals. First, she wanted to make sure there was one place on the avenue where people could go if they were feeling lonely or sad. She wanted to make them feel a little less lonely or a little less sad, so it’s company policy. Anyone who comes into the store has to eat some chocolate—on the house. Enjoy!” She handed the pink bag of chocolates to Judy, removed the plastic gloves and tossed them into the trash.
Judy held the bag tight. Despite her best efforts to resist, her mouth began to water. “Her second goal can’t be to make much of a profit. Not if she gives away chocolate to anyone who stops in the store.”
“It isn’t, though you’d be surprised at how well she’s doing now that she’s added a whole line of gift baskets. Her second goal is really pretty amazing, although if you know Charlene well, it all makes perfect sense.”
Judy cocked a brow. “She doesn’t live in Welleswood, so I’m afraid I don’t know her very well at all. I couldn’t even venture a guess,” she admitted and followed Ginger into the kitchen.
The room was much smaller than Judy expected. Shelves with ribbons and boxes and wrapping paper lined a small alcove that had a battered white worktable in the center. To her right, a narrow galley kitchen held a sink, a small countertop, a refrigerator with a top freezer compartment and a chocolate machine that reminded Judy of an antique wringer washing machine.
Ginger put on another pair of gloves, opened the freezer, removed a clear plastic candy mold and popped out six chocolate lollipops she placed on the counter atop waxed paper. She smiled as she worked. “I got them out just in time,” she noted, filled another plastic mold with sticks and poured melted white chocolate in the mold end. She held up the mold for Judy to see they were lollipops that looked like books before she put the mold into the freezer. “Cute, aren’t they? She’s donating dozens and dozens to the Book Fair, assuming I can get them all done in time, which explains her second goal.”
Judy opened her bag, took out a chocolate-covered cherry and took a bite. The dark chocolate was almost decadent, the cherry inside was crisp and sweet, and the gooey liquid that filled the space between the cherry and the chocolate shell…“Oh, no!” she exclaimed as the liquid began to drip. Instinctively, she popped the rest of the candy into her mouth and licked her fingers. Eyes wide, she chewed and swallowed the candy and ended up giggling—an odd experience since her day had been so difficult. “Oh, that was a little messy, but oh so good!”
Ginger’s eyes twinkled. “And now you know Charlene’s second goal. Everyone who comes in can’t leave without forgetting their troubles for at least as long as it takes to eat a piece of chocolate. I take it you’re feeling better?”
Judy nodded. “It was a rough morning, but I was hoping it didn’t show. Maybe it isn’t so rough now,” she admitted as she reached into the bag for a second piece of candy. She gave one to Ginger and took the last one for herself. “I saw you at school this morning. I stopped in to see you today to see if you’d be interested in helping me to organize some books donated to the school to sell at the Book Fair, assuming Vincent is going to be at the school for a while longer.”
Ginger studied the candy in her hand, took a small bite and turned the chocolate shell sideways to keep the liquid from dripping out. “Actually, he’ll probably be here a good while longer,” she murmured. She sighed and met Judy’s gaze. “Vincent isn’t going to be joining his mother and her new husband. He’s—he’s going to live with us permanently, unless…unless Lily changes her mind…someday.”
The heartache in the woman’s gaze met the kindred suffering in Judy’s heart, creating an instant bond between them. “I understand,” Judy whispered and briefly explained her situation with Candy as well as Brian. “I wish I knew how long Brian would be staying with me or if I’d ever see Candy again, but I don’t,” she admitted. She polished off her last bite of candy.
Ginger did the same and smiled. “I’ll have to do some volunteer work at the school, anyway, and I’d really like to help you with the books.”
“I’m glad.” Judy glanced at her watch. She still had an hour left. “You met Barbara Montgomery at the school that day with me. I was thinking of asking her to help, too, but under the circumstances, I’m not sure if that’s the right thing to do.”
“I’ve been reading about the case in the newspaper. It must be a terrible time for her.”
“What do you think? Should I ask her to help us?”
Ginger nodded thoughtfully. “I think if I were in Barbara’s position, I might welcome a little diversion.” She took the mold out of the freezer, popp
ed out the chocolate lollipops and removed her apron. “Wait for me. I’ll go with you,” she suggested.
“What about the store? Can you just leave?”
“Company policy,” she announced and led Judy out of the kitchen and back into the store.
Judy watched Ginger fill another small pink bag with an assortment of chocolates. After disposing of her gloves, she turned out the lights, fixed the sign in the storefront window to read Will Return at 2:15 and opened the door.
Judy shook her head in disbelief and followed Ginger out the door. “What company policy lets you close the shop in the middle of the day?”
Ginger held up the bag of chocolates. “Any real chocolate emergency. Right now, I think Barbara might need a little chocolate more than anyone else I know. That’s good enough reason for me and it would be good enough for Charlene, too.”
Judy laughed. “I really think I need to get to know this lady.”
Ginger laughed with her, and they walked down the avenue to handle the “chocolate emergency” together.
Chapter Twelve
If it was true that lightning never struck the same place twice, Judy hoped that was true for near disasters, too. There were no customers in Grandmother’s Kitchen, but the memory of Judy’s last visit here was only too real as she entered the shop. With her arms crossed at her waist, she kept her purse tight against her body and quickly glanced down to make sure she was not wearing the slacks that still needed to be hemmed.
The decor inside the shop had shifted with the season, and instead of the scent of summer roses coming from the candles, she inhaled the mix of cinnamon and apples that hinted at fall. The antique glass display cases were all there, but she still took deliberate care to avoid them.
Ginger stopped just ahead of her, turned about in a full circle, and gaped at the antique canister sets that filled the shop. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” she murmured. She stopped, walked over to one of the display cases, peered inside and gasped. “Did you see the prices? I can’t imagine paying hundreds of dollars for canister sets that are so old you probably can’t even use them,” she whispered.
“I love antiques like these, but I don’t know enough about antiques of any kind, except that I can’t afford them,” Judy admitted.
“Well, I might be able to afford them, but they don’t hold any appeal for me.” She took a closer look at a garish, two-tone canister set of chartreuse and purple and wrinkled her nose. “These absolutely do not tempt me.”
“Some of them are really lovely, though,” Judy countered while looking back toward the workroom for Barbara. “I wonder where she is.” When the door opened behind them, Judy turned and found herself face-to-face with Barbara, who had a foam cup of coffee in her hand.
Her features were drawn, and her eyes were shadowed with sadness. “Judy! Ginger! This is a surprise.”
“Trust me. I’m not going near anything today,” Judy promised and briefly described her first visit to the shop to Ginger.
Barbara held up her cup of coffee. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. It’s midday, and I’m really sagging, in more ways than one, so I went out for some coffee since the cupboard in the back is bare as bones. I don’t have any coffee to offer to you, but I have some bottled water in the refrigerator.”
“I’ve got the perfect pick-you-up right here,” Ginger announced and handed the small pink bag to her.
Barbara’s eyes sparked to life. “Not chocolates from Sweet Stuff!”
Ginger grinned. “Absolutely.”
Barbara moistened her lips. “What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion. The chocolates are a bribe,” Judy offered.
“No they’re not,” Ginger argued. “They’re emergency rations, guaranteed to make you forget your troubles for a little while and maybe even make you giggle.”
Judy nodded. “Okay, we’ll compromise. They’re an emergency bribe,” Judy said before asking Barbara to help them organize the books for the Book Fair.
Barbara fingered the top of the bag, set her cup of coffee down on top of one of the display cases and peeked into the bag. Her eyes widened. “There are at least a dozen pieces of candy in here!”
Ginger nodded. “Twelve different kinds of chocolate candy. I wasn’t sure which one was your favorite.”
“And all I have to do is agree to help you both organize some books?”
Ginger laughed. “Not really. The chocolates are yours…just because…”
“Because we really want you to say yes,” Judy offered.
“Then, yes. I’ll help you, but only on one condition. You both have to help me eat these chocolates. Right now.”
Judy sucked in her breath. She could finish the entire bag of chocolates all by herself, even after she had already eaten two chocolate-covered cherries, though she hated to admit it. “Now? I don’t think I should. We just had some chocolates at the candy store.”
Ginger laughed again. “Oh, please. They were just a small appetizer. I’m always hungry for chocolate.”
Barbara looked at Judy and cocked a brow.
Judy held on to her purse with one hand and held up the other in mock surrender while her mouth began to water. “Okay, okay! I’ll eat more chocolate. All in the name of celebrating the formation of the volunteer committee in charge of organizing the books.”
“And in the name of friendship,” Ginger added.
Within moments, Barbara had them all in the back workroom seated on folding chairs in a semicircle at the work counter where she put the chocolates out on a paper plate. She handed each of them a napkin. “If we eat all this chocolate, you know we’re going to spoil our dinners, right?”
Judy took a deep breath and inhaled the sweet scent of temptation. “Before Brian came to live with me, this would have been my dinner. Well, not quite,” she corrected herself. “I wouldn’t have splurged on the more expensive candy like this. But some nights I’d drag myself home from a long day on my feet and be too tired to cook dinner. Instead, I’d lie down on the couch and polish off a big old bag of M&M’s or candy kisses or a bag of those mini-chocolate bars while watching television.” She sighed. “I can’t do that now. I have to cook a good meal to set a good example for Brian.”
Ginger stared at the plate of chocolates with a whole lot more interest than she had shown when she had been looking at the antique canister sets. “I always kept a pint of Double Death by Chocolate ice cream in the freezer. Every once in a while Tyler worked late and grabbed something for dinner at work, so I didn’t bother cooking for myself.” She grinned. “I’d eat that whole pint of ice cream for dinner. But you’re right. These days, I’m trying to keep healthier habits for Vincent’s sake.”
“We all need to indulge once in a while,” Barbara argued. “I don’t think that’s a bad lesson to teach the children, although I haven’t really thought about doing that with Jessie and Melanie.” Her gaze grew wistful. “When the boys were growing up, we’d let them pick one night in the summertime to indulge ourselves and off we’d go to Scoops. Back then, Scoops didn’t sell just ice cream. You could get burgers and fries, too.”
“I remember that,” Judy said as she tried to decide which piece of chocolate to take for herself.
“So there we’d be, all four of us, sharing an extralarge order of French fries with extra salt for an entrée, followed by ice-cream sundaes for dessert. Rick invariably chose the caramel crater, a gooey concoction as you can imagine, and Steve…He always ordered a banana split.…” Her voice trailed off, as if she had been caught up in memories of the son she had lost.
“You go first,” Ginger prompted and held the plate of chocolates out to Barbara, who took forever to decide which one she wanted.
When she picked up the chocolate-covered cherry, Judy waited to see if Barbara would react the same way as she had. She did not have to wait long. Barbara had scarcely taken a bite before she had to pop the rest into her mouth and when she finished chewing, her giggles f
illed the room.
With a satisfied smile, Ginger selected a chocolate-covered caramel, took a bite and chewed slowly. “Having Vincent with us for the summer didn’t require nearly the adjustment we’re making now that it appears he’ll be staying indefinitely,” she murmured and repeated the tale to Barbara she had told Judy earlier. “I think the hardest part for Vincent and me right now is that I can’t answer his questions about his mother. Not in ways that make sense to him or to me, so I just keep reminding him how much his mother loves him and how much we love having him with us. Sometimes I wonder if he shouldn’t miss her more, but he doesn’t say much. He’s almost too content to be here.”
“Brian’s counseling has helped some,” Judy offered.
“The counselor seemed to think Brian was handling the situation well enough not to want to see him again, unless there’s a crisis. Brian still doesn’t talk much about his father, but he’s beginning to open up more about his mother. We can talk about Candy and he’ll seem fine, but then some nights he still cries himself to sleep, wanting to be with her.”
Barbara sighed. “Jessie and Melanie don’t seem to remember their mother. They don’t mention her to me, but Steve was…They really miss him. They don’t say too much to me about him, but I hear them when they’re playing together. Poor babies. They keep thinking he’s coming back for them,” she whispered. “It’s very hard, isn’t it?”
