Wicked Stitch
Page 24
“You’ll never believe what’s coming in next door to you,” she said.
“Please tell me that whatever it is won’t be operated by a relative of Nellie Davis,” I said, with a groan.
Nellie Davis owned the aromatherapy shop down the street, and she and I had never been friends. Heck, we’d hardly been civil. I’d tried over the past year to warm up our relationship, but Nellie was convinced that all the mishaps that had befallen Tallulah Falls had coincided with my arrival and that either me or my shop—or both—was cursed. She’d been so antagonistic toward me that she’d recently talked her sister, Clara, into renting the space next to the Seven-Year Stitch—a knitting shop, no less, where she’d also planned to sell embroidery supplies! Unfortunately, Clara had met with a bad end, and the shop was once again for lease. Well, not anymore, it seemed.
“It’s gonna be a haunted house!” Vera clapped her hands in excitement. “Won’t that be fun? They’re only here for the month of October, but from what they told Paul, they plan to do it up right.”
Vera was dating Paul Samms, a reporter for the Tallulah Falls Chronicle.
“They’re going to take the first few days of the month to decorate and move in all their creepy crawly stuff, and the actual haunted house is going to open the following weekend,” she continued.
I frowned. “Are they going to be open only during the weekends? If so, how will they make enough to justify renting the building?”
“According to Paul, after that opening weekend, they’re going to be open every night,” said Vera. “So they believe—and so do I—that they’ll make their rent back many times over. They’ll have special events throughout the month to draw repeat business, like themed costume contests, local celebrities—news anchors and people like that. Paul might even be one. And they’re having concessions!”
“They’re having concessions at a haunted house? That seems a little odd.”
“I’m surprised Sadie hasn’t mentioned it to you. She and Blake are in charge of the food.”
“Neither of them has said a word to me,” I said. “How will that work? I can’t imagine where they’ll find the time to run a concession stand on top of operating a busy coffee shop.”
“Paul says they’re going to do fairly simple stuff—caramel apples, popcorn and kettle corn, cookies, some hot chocolate and a couple of other beverages, maybe—and the patrons have to eat outside the actual haunted house,” said Vera. “The haunted house operators don’t want to wind up with a colossal mess. And one of the MacKenzies’ Mochas waitresses will work the haunted house each night. So it really shouldn’t interfere with Sadie and Blake’s schedules all that much.”
“Cool.”
“You don’t look like you really feel that it’s all that cool,” Vera said. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just concerned about how it will affect my evening classes,” I told her. “Some of my students are a little older—like Muriel—and I wouldn’t want her to be frightened or put it off if she hears a ton of screaming going on next door.”
Vera laughed. “Sweetie, you know Muriel can’t hear herself think. And I don’t know that it’ll be that disruptive. Maybe you could put on some music or something.”
Oh, sure, I thought. That would be great—blaring music to drown out the screaming teenagers next door.
“Besides, you might enjoy going to the haunted house with Ted.” Vera winked.
“I’m not saying it won’t be fun,” I said. “I guess I’m just being selfish. How will this affect me . . . Angus . . . my students . . . my open house?”
“That’s right! Your anniversary’s coming up!” Vera clasped her hands together. “What are we doing for that?”
“I thought I’d have special sales and markdowns for the two weeks leading up to the open house. And I want to have gift bags for open house attendees.” I leaned forward. “But I’m struggling with what to put in the bags. Any suggestions?”
Vera looked up at the ceiling. “Well . . . you could put something different into every bag—like a coupon. Each coupon would be for a different amount off a particular item or the customer’s entire purchase. And you could have one coupon for a free item within a particular price range.”
“That’s a fantastic idea,” I said.
She smiled at me. “Don’t sound so surprised, darling.”
“I’m not surprised.” I laughed. “Honest. I’ve simply been pondering over what I can give out that will appeal to everyone and not break the bank. The coupons are a wonderful idea.”
“Sure,” she said. “And you can put candies . . . teeny little sewing kits . . . maybe those braided friendship bracelets the kids like. . . .”
“You have a ton of fantastic ideas, Vera Langhorne! You should be an event planner.”
Vera laughed. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
Just then, Reggie hurried into the shop. Although she was beautifully dressed in an Indian-style coral tunic with matching slacks, Reggie’s normally elegantly coifed short gray hair looked as if she’d barely taken time to brush it that morning.
“Have you heard?” she asked us. “Somebody’s doing a haunted house next to your shop, Marcy!”
“That’s what Vera was telling me,” I said, my smile fading. “I’m getting the feeling you’re not in favor of haunted houses?”
She dropped onto the sofa across from Vera and me. Angus came and placed his head on the arm of the sofa closest to Reggie. She patted his head absently.
“I’m in favor of the library’s haunted house,” she said. “It’s one of our biggest annual fund-raisers. And now this fancy group is going to come in and ruin it for us.”
“No, they won’t,” Vera said. “Their haunted house isn’t geared toward small children. It’s more for teens and adults. Paul interviewed the event organizers, and they told him all about it. Your haunted house is supposed to be funny and sweet. Theirs is supposed to be scary as heck!”
“You truly don’t think their haunted house will have an impact on our fund-raiser?” Reggie asked.
“I know it won’t,” Vera said. “In fact, I’ll insist that Paul give the library equal time. I’ll see when he can drop in at the library and do a story on your haunted house. I’ll make sure he emphasizes the importance of the fund-raiser for the library’s annual budget. How does that sound?”
“That sounds terrific, Vera. Thank you.” Reggie smoothed her hair. “I’m sorry that I allowed the news of the new haunted house to upset me so badly. It isn’t like me at all.” She turned toward me. “How do you feel about having a funhouse right next door, Marcy?”
“I’m not terribly happy about it,” I said. “I’m afraid it’ll drive Angus and my students crazy.”
“She was particularly concerned about the effect all the screaming might have on poor Muriel,” Vera said. “I told her that Muriel probably wouldn’t notice any more than she can hear.”
“True, but I see Marcy’s point,” said Reggie. “At least they won’t be disturbing your business during daylight hours.”
“That’s true,” I said. “And it’s only for a month. What real harm can it do?”
When would I ever learn to stop asking that question?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amanda Lee lives in southwest Virginia with her husband and two beautiful children, a boy and a girl. She’s a full-time writer/editor/mom/wife and chief cook and bottle washer, and she loves every minute of it. Okay, not the bottle washing so much, but the rest of it is great.
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