Turning to her, I smiled, “Of course, monster cookies for a monstrous appetite coming right up.”
“Piper?” I swear Griff’s jaw dropped right open. “Your hair…wow! I didn’t even recognize you with those colors.”
Winking at me, Sam turned back to her brother, “Right! Gorgeous, isn’t she?”
“Yes!” Griff nodded, still staring. He blinked, “I mean, it looks nice. Very unique.”
Disappearing through the kitchen door I shook my head. I would get Samantha back for that. I didn’t know how yet, but somehow, I would. Bagging up the cookies, I returned them to the front. Griff thanked us and headed back to work. We never made him pay; Griff had helped us get a lot of remodel work done and kept us up to code when we were remodeling before our grand opening. He had always been very supportive of his sister, unlike their parents. A few cookies on the house were nothing in return.
Quite possibly the most surprising result from our appearance on the news was our new-found respectability, or at least almost respectability, with Deidra Lowe’s Ladies Society. Deidra herself didn’t have the time to come, obviously, but she sent her secretary Abigail over instead.
It was around 9:15 AM when Abigail came in, a thick binder in hand.
“Good morning,” I greeted her in surprise as Griffin left and I saw her next in line.
“Hi, Abigail. Did I miss an appointment with Mother?” Sam asked.
“Good morning Piper, Samantha. No, nothing like that,” she assured us. Abigail was about twenty-one years old, only one year younger than us. She was a bit heavy-set and wore glasses but had a keen fashion sense. Her blonde hair was cut in a cute bob style that I was certain I could never pull off, but it framed her face perfectly. According to Sam, she was very bright; her time was wasted fetching and scheduling for Deidra as far as I was concerned.
I looked at Sam who just shrugged, equally as perplexed as I about what errand Deidra could have sent the poor girl on today.
“I need to place an order for the Ladies Society’s brunch tomorrow,” Abigail flipped a page on her clipboard and began to reel off a list.
“Wait, what?” I asked in confusion. Never had Deidra so much as tasted a cookie from our bakery. She adamantly refused to support her precious daughter “throwing her life away.”
“I’m sorry Abigail, do you mean to tell me my mother actually wants to order baked goods? From us? Instead of from The Busy Bee where she has ordered for at least twenty years? And she sent you to do it rather than call and ask me?” Samantha crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.
Abigail placed two fingers at her temple as if she was getting a headache.
“Call me Abby, please. Yes. I’m sorry. Look, I know it is silly and I tried to tell her she should come and order them herself, that you would be really pleased to see her.” She rolled her eyes. “I think that nearly got me fired. So please, let me place the order and do my job. I need the approval and recommendations that working for your mom can get for me, even if working for her may kill me”.
I decided right then that we should cut Abby some slack.
“My goodness, I can’t imagine the stress that goes with your job. Have you eaten yet?” I asked her.
“Me?” she seemed startled. “Well, um, why no I haven’t had time so far. The Ladies are all in a tizzy about the news this morning and not knowing about the business and in shock that Piper is associated with a crime and …”
“Piper is not associated with a crime,” Sam jumped in.
“Well, I know that. You know that group just loves gossip.”
“My mother is not getting a discount,” Sam harrumphed.
Abby laughed out loud.
“Here,” I handed over a napkin-wrapped Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Flax Muffin – yes, I know, shocker - occasionally we have healthier options, trust me they are still delicious. “At least have some food while we go over the order for brunch.”
The rest of the day was busy but nothing out of the ordinary. However, just before closing up, I discovered a weird and disturbing note underneath of two pennies on one of the corner tables. I didn’t know what to make of it so I showed it to Sam.
Printed in bold block letters it read: YOU CAN’T HAVE EVERYTHING, I’M WATCHING YOU.
“That is so strange,” Sam agreed. “It doesn’t even say who it is for; I have no idea unless it could be to us from someone else who’s mad that we won the contest?”
“Yeah, maybe.” I put the note in my apron pocket as I continued to wipe down tables and did my best to forget all about it.
TWO
“Coffee,” Sam groaned. “Must have coffee.”
I gulped down my own iced green tea, understanding her need for caffeine. In order to fulfill Deidra Lowe’s order on time, we had to do a lot of extra baking and fast. That meant we got to work at three o’clock this morning. Artisan bread for their cheese and sandwiches, four types of scones and three different muffin flavors, plus lemon cookies and almond cookies. I’m not sure how many members there were in the Ladies Society, but they ordered enough baked goods to feed half the elementary school. That was on top of our regular baking for the goodies we would sell in the store today.
Exhaustion was an understatement; I’m certain my appearance alone could rival the walking dead.
“On the bright side,” I made for an attempt at positivity, “we won’t hurt for profits during our four-day absence thanks to Deidra’s order.”
“Nope, and if by some miracle they start ordering for even half of their brunches and teas and plethora of meetings from us, then we will be able to afford that second oven sooner than we hoped.”
“True. Cheers to larger ovens.”
“Cheers!”
I left the last tray of Butterscotch Oatmeal Cookies in the oven for Sam to look after while I went about opening the bakery. I unlocked the door and turned the sign to open, tidied up the counter and flipped the light switches to illuminate the glass display cases full of – you guessed it – ooey-gooey goodness.
Gladys turned up as our first customer of the day.
“Good morning dearies,” she greeted warmly. “Remind me, which of you is which now?”
“I’m Samantha, this is Piper,” Sam smiled, gesturing to me. “What can we get for you today?”
“A muffin today I think, perhaps blueberry if you have one?”
“Coming right up!”
“Thank you.”
“How do you take your coffee?” I asked Gladys as she got comfortable at a small table by the register.
“Dark roast please, with a good helping of cream to cool it down.”
Gladys sat at her table most of the morning, accepting a couple of coffee refills and reading her Bible. As the rush slowed, Sam took a plate of cookies over and asked Gladys if she would mind sharing her table during our break.
“For some of those mouth-watering morsels I’d probably share my house,” Gladys smiled as soft laugh lines crinkled around her bright eyes. Gladys was easy to talk to and had us holding our sides in laughter in no time as she recounted memories of her husband and their younger days.
After a while, Gladys did grow serious again, however. “I’ve made a decision today, but I need to know if it is okay with both of you first.”
“What is it, Gladys?” I asked curiously, unsure what bearing I should have on this sweet lady’s decisions.
“I’ve been very lonely but chatting with you two feels like having new friends. In my reading over my favorite scriptures this morning I was reminded of how much our good Lord encourages us to rest.”
Sam nodded for her to continue.
“I haven’t been to that fancy spa at the church yet,” Gladys continued, “and even though I don’t get out of the house much, it isn’t very restful for me. My mind is churning all day but there isn’t really anything to do besides vacuum night and day.”
I snorted because I can’t imagine vacuuming more than two or three times a month, truly.
“I thought, if you didn’t mind, I would book a stay at the spa the same four days that you two will be there and we can make a real vacation of it?”
“Oh, how fun Gladys!” Sam said.
“Excellent!” I agreed at the same time.
“Well that settles it,” I said raising a cookie in salute.
Knowing me well, Sam raised her own. “To the spa stay vacay!” she said.
The bell tinkled musically and Sam threw a wide smile to the entrance. I rose, preparing to help our next customer.
“Oh. It’s you.” I said, sitting back down to finish off my cookie.
“How’s that for greeting your top taste-tester?” Griff huffed good-naturedly, dragging a chair up to the already packed, round table and straddling it backward. “You’ve got something right here by the way.” And before I knew what was happening, he swiped chocolate from the side of my mouth and licked his finger.
“Oh, hello handsome,” Gladys grinned at the exchange. “You must be Piper’s boyfriend. I’m Gladys.”
“What!” I practically shouted and Sam blew tea out of her nose; I had a brief moment of being thankful she had switched beverages mid-morning because I’m betting hot coffee would have burned a tad more severely.
“Piper has a boyfriend?” Griff’s eyebrows furrowed, quite the change from his usual confident expressions.
“Oh! This spa trip is going to be so much fun, I can tell already,” Gladys laughed, amused at the tizzy she instigated at our table.
As usual, once composed that is, Sam stepped in with the niceties, “Gladys, I’d like you to meet my brother Griffin.”
“Who is not my boyfriend, may I clarify,” I told Gladys, my cheeks still feeling a bit warm.
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Griff said, laying on the Southern charm.
Saved by the bell, another few customers start trickling in and I hurry to attend them.
Griff doesn’t stay long. He leaves to go back to his office across the street after devouring three of his favorite snacks, Dark Chocolate Chip Brown Sugar Cookies, not that I’ve been paying attention.
The rest of the day passed as normal and before long, Sam is cleaning the kitchen and preparing to close up for the evening. We decided to close early, at 5 PM, so that we had plenty of time to pack for our spa stay.
“I can’t believe it’s here already.”
“Me neither,” I agreed.
“I’m excited. I will admit since I strayed from Mother’s good graces, I have missed having a good massage; she goes every week you know.”
“I don’t know, I’m not too keen on the idea of strangers touching me. Still, I’m glad for a break and I think it will be fun for Gladys to be there with us.”
“She is a character, isn’t she? I can’t believe she went skinny dipping with her husband on their 40th anniversary!”
“I’m guessing that is probably one of the numerous reasons your mother doesn’t include her in,” I raised my nose in the air and gave my best upper-class refined accent, “the Seashell Bay Ladies Society activities.” Sam doubled over in hysterics.
I laughed too. Deidra really was too easy to laugh at, mostly because she took herself so seriously.
Grabbing the broom while Sam started stacking chairs onto tables, I did a quick lap around the front of the store. I emptied the dustpan into the trash sack by the back door, tying the strings up so it could be hauled to the dumpster we shared with our neighbors on this little shopping strip – Flo’s Flowers, Auntie Em’s Antiques, and the Bait & Tackle store.
“That looks like everything,” said Sam, joining me and grabbing her keys from the hook on the side of one cabinet.
“Great, I’ll take the trash. See you tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah – I’ll pick you up at 6?”
“Perfect!”
Sam locked the back door as I strode to the dumpster to deposit our offering. By the time I clicked the unlock button on my key fob, Samantha’s yellow Nissan Juke was speeding out of the rear parking lot. Climbing into my dark blue four-door pickup truck, I crossed my fingers that it would crank. Bought from a used car lot three years ago, it had almost two hundred thousand miles on it and lately seemed to cough and sputter more than it used to. Still, it was mine, free and clear, and I loved it. I loved to drive down on the beach, park and put the tailgate down. I could just sit and watch the ocean for hours. Tonight, the truck roared to life and I said a quick prayer of thanks before driving home.
~
Two hours later I flopped onto the couch with a sigh of frustration. What in the world was I supposed to pack for a spa trip? I’ve never been to a spa…who am I kidding I’ve never even had my nails done. I was stressing out way too much over this, which meant maybe I was more nervous about leaving the bakery for almost a week than I thought I was. It was a vacation; vacation would be nice. I just need to figure out what specifically to pack and be done thinking about it.
I knew what I needed to do. Snatching my phone off the turquoise coffee table, I dialed Sam. When the ringing ceased, I started rambling before she could even say hello. “What in the world am I supposed to pack for a spa stay? What are we even going to be doing – how do I know what is appropriate? I mean how many clothes do we even need? I thought they made you be naked or wear a towel or something to get a massage? Can we really spend four days getting a massage; I’ll lose my mind.”
A distinctly masculine throat cleared on the other end of the phone.
I checked the screen. It said Sam I Am, my contact name for Samantha, so at least I had dialed the right number.
“Sam?”
“Nope.”
I slapped a palm to my forehead. Just what I was afraid of.
“Griff.”
“Yep.” More throat clearing.
“Why the heck would you be answering Sam’s phone?” I shouted, embarrassed that he had been the recipient of my brief freak out and embarrassing lack of clothes discussion.
“I’m having dinner with Sam. She went to the restroom and left her phone. I thought something might be wrong when I saw it was you, so I answered.”
“Nope, nothing wrong here.”
“That isn’t what it sounded like to me.”
“You heard wrong.”
“So, about those spa clothes...” he started in a low voice.
I heard some background noises and what might have been light screeching and laughter.
“Piper,” Sam’s voice came through the speaker. “Sorry, I had to wrestle the phone from my about-to-get-no-free-desserts-ever-again big brother. He said you needed some help with something?”
“Never mind, I got it,” I lied, pretty sure I could feel my face glowing red for the second time today.
“Okay, you sure?”
“I’m sure. Thanks, Sam, I’ve gotta go.”
I threw the phone onto the couch cushions and jumped up. What in the world was up with today and embarrassing moments in front of Griffin. I had never cared what he thought before. I put a chamomile tea pod into the Keurig and marched to my bedroom, determined to pack and go to bed.
Beep.
Beep. Beep.
Faintly, I could hear my text messages going off in the living room. Tossing the two pair of yoga pants and cargo pants that I was holding into my lime and turquoise chevron duffle bag on my way out of the bedroom, I hurried to read them.
Sam: Made Griff spill.
Sam: Comfy clothes.
Sam: And one or two cute dresses.
I hit reply.
Me: Why dresses??
Me: Really?
Sam: Yes. They have fancy meals at these places sometimes.
Me: And they don’t think you can eat meals in yoga pants?
Sam: lol lol lol!
Sam: Just bring one or two. Can borrow some of mine also.
Me: Fine.
My tea finished making in the small kitchen alcove of my apartment. I poured it into a large mug, adding a few ice cubes. What? I’m fro
m the south, we don’t drink hot tea.
After several fortifying sips, I felt calm enough to face my arch nemesis: my closet.
It isn’t that I didn’t enjoy or have clothes. I did. I just leaned more towards comfortable, practical clothes. Unlike Sam’s mom, my mom wasn’t a fancy dress-up kind of person. My parents both worked long hospital and nursing shifts. They wore scrubs by day and shorts by night. I guess I kind of adopted the “if you don’t need it, don’t buy it” habit and the majority of the time, I didn’t need to dress up.
Fortunately for my closet’s sake, when Sam and I became friends during college a few years ago, she had taken me shopping with her several times. Not because she had a problem with my style. She just loved to shop. I knew somewhere in this mess were at least two or three dresses Sam had bought me a while ago. Now, I just had to find them. And hope they still fit, I thought, acknowledging the niggling fear that maybe I’d consumed too much cookie dough lately.
Wrenching hanger after hanger of t-shirt, jeans, and the occasional sweater out of the way I finally succeeded.
“Gotcha!” I triumphed over the closet too soon; as it mocked me in silence, the hanger that I needed snagged on several others sending everything to the floor in a jumbled mess.
Forty-five minutes and an entire closet reorganizing session later, I had my duffle zipped up tight and tossed it by the door. Surely, I wasn’t going to need any more than that for only four days, and I was staying in the same town too!
A shower and a shave later – can’t have people rubbing and massaging stubbly legs after all – I pulled down the covers on my bed and crawled in.
Knowing I had several hours to sleep late in the morning compared to a normal bakery day, I opened my nightstand drawer and dug around until I found my Kindle e-reader. There was a particularly handsome knight wandering around lost in a forest where he stumbled upon a maddeningly bossy maiden who refused to believe she needed to be rescued. It had been weeks since I had taken the time to read; typically, I spent all my free time making up new recipes. Tonight, however, I vowed to begin my relaxing early and I was more than ready to find out whose stubbornness won out at the end of this hilarious tale.
Rest, Relax, Run for Your Life Page 2
