“Mr. Malcolm isn’t a complete idiot. Maybe he’ll keep his hands to himself. Especially if you show a bit of spirit,” Susan said, though she didn’t sound too hopeful.
“It will be ok. I’ve handled worse,” Abby said, clenching her jaw and fighting down the memories again. It was easier than it had been but she kept waiting for the day when it just didn’t rise at all. She was tired of fighting it all the time. Sensing her distress, Cheerio stood up and nuzzled Abby’s hand. “Anyway, I came in here to open some accounts, and that’s what we’re going to do.”
She opened her mouth to continue, but a loud voice called across the lobby of the bank and interrupted her. “Susan!” Frank called loudly. “Can you get us another cup of coffee before Craig has to go? You know how I like it and he wants two sugars and cream.”
Abby could not believe her ears. She turned once again and stared incredulously across the lobby at the red-faced man who had transported everyone back to the 1950s with his words. She was just about to ask Susan what planet she was on, but Susan had already risen and stepped past her to retrieve the two white coffee cups in Frank’s hands.
Abby looked once around the bank to see if there were any cameras. She had never fathomed, in this day and age, that someone would do something so blatantly sexist, but there it was. Cheerio whimpered, pulling Abby out of her frozen anger to realize her fingers had tightened into claws on one of his ears. She relaxed immediately, cooing at poor Cheerio for a few moments in apology before turning once again to see if some announcer would come out of one of the back rooms, telling her she was on a prank television show.
No such luck.
Instead, she watched Susan come out of a back with two steaming mugs of coffee, deliver them to her manager’s desk, and then quietly exit the office. Susan wouldn’t meet Abby’s gaze as she came back to her desk and sat, placing her hands on her keyboard, and then cleared her throat before looking back up at Abby as if nothing had happened.
Abby felt an almost irresistible urge to reach across the desk and shake Susan, but decided that might not be the best course of action on her first day in town. Instead, she blinked politely and answered the questions as smoothly as possible. In the back of her mind, she was seething. What kind of town was this?
Susan had just about finished setting up Abby’s accounts when the bank manager and Mr. Malcolm came out of the office and headed toward the front door. The two men were talking, but both men paused when they came up even with her chair. Abby didn’t know what was wrong until she saw the worried look flash across Susan’s face.
“Damn, Frank,” Craig said, a clear note of scorn in his voice. “Are we getting backwoods enough for you to have dogs in your bank?”
There was a frozen silence, and then the large form of Frank stepped up next to Abby’s chair and leaned over the desk toward Susan. “Susan, why did you let a dog in here? You know I’m allergic,” he whispered darkly. “It's hair will be on the carpet now. Probably up in the air ducts, too. I’ll be sneezing for a week.”
Susan had frozen, apparently grasping for something to say, but Abby wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass her by. She thought quickly and tapped him on the arm, distracting him from his overwrought employee. “I’m sorry, Sir,” She said, putting just a tiny note of deference into her voice so he wouldn’t realize she knew what was going on. “I didn’t know dogs weren’t allowed in here. I’m afraid I just slipped him in before Susan even noticed. Her desk is right next to the front door, and she was busy when I first came inside. Cheerio was quiet, so I don’t think she even knew he was here.”
Frank blinked before actually looking at Abby. If she were to guess, it was as if he didn’t realize she was there, or even a real person, until his lizard brain kicked in. A few seconds later his brain finally caught up with his eyes and he gave what Abby was sure was a patented fake smile. “Ah! Well then let me apologize, ma’am. We can’t have dogs in here. It’s against the rules. Were you just leaving?”
Abby returned the fake smile but shook her head. “Not quite, but it shouldn’t be more than a few minutes. Unless you want me to stop setting up my new account?”
Frank’s eyes flicked toward Susan’s screen to see how much she was putting in her accounts before answering. A not insignificant amount. Despite the loss, the Army had been generous after the death of Danny so Abby was not surprised when the manager’s eyes narrowed and she graduated to an actual person instead of a sub-human. “Uh, no, please don’t stop on my account. Just, next time, if you could leave your pet at home?” He gave her another fake grin before moving back from the table and opening the door for Mr. Malcolm, stepping outside with him and chatting for a while longer.
Once Frank and Craig were safely out of the bank, Susan reached across the desk and grasped Abby’s hand in relief. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
Abby shook her head and squeezed back. “I think I did. Honestly, anyone that has someone else fetch their coffee for them, I wouldn’t tell the sky was blue. Don’t worry about it. It was my fault for bringing Cheerio inside. You were just trying to be nice, and I put you in a bad spot.”
Susan nodded and gave her one last squeeze before they both got back to work on setting up her accounts. It wasn’t a few moments later that Abby had a temporary debit card and was heading back outside. Frank was just coming back and gave her a polite nod, but Abby didn’t miss the slight sneer as he glanced down at Cheerio. For his part, Cheerio kept his head down but his eyes on the manager’s juicy hamstrings. Abby smirked and wondered if Cheerio would feel like he was at home if the Manager started bleating like a sheep, despite the several generations since his ancestors had last had a chance to herd a sheep. The words the mayor said about anyone not loving a dog came back to her. Clearly, the bank manager was one such person.
She didn’t have time to ponder because the loud growl of her stomach told her she needed to pay attention to something else. “Well, Cheerio, let’s go see if we can find a place to get something to eat.” Cheerio gave her an answering bark that clearly said he agreed.
Chapter 5
She found a quaint little home-turned-café with massive picture windows looking out over a well-manicured lawn and walkway nestled among some beautiful pine trees. The hand painted sign said Becky’s Café, and she saw enough customers within its walls to tell her it was a reasonably well-liked establishment. Still, she approached with some level of nervousness because of her previous welcome, or lack thereof, at the bank. This time she attached the small retractable leash she carried, but rarely needed to use, onto Cheerios collar and then secured it loosely around a bike rack just outside the front door.
“Sorry, boy,” she said, petting Cheerio’s now sad face as he hammed up his sorrow. “You’re not in trouble. Let me just make sure its ok, or not, for you to come in. If it’s not, I’ll get something to go. How about some bacon?” Cheerio thumped his tail on the ground, opening his mouth and letting his pink tongue hang out at those words. Anyone that said dogs didn’t understand English had never said bacon around one.
Abby walked up and opened the glass door to the blue and white trimmed café. She immediately saw an industrious, red-headed woman about her age bustling amongst the tables and smiling brightly. Amazingly, the woman was able to skillfully carry on several conversations as well as serve the few tables, which Abby knew from experience was not an easy thing at all. One of the tables held Craig Malcolm, the loud developer from the bank, and she almost turned around because of it. Then Abby realized she didn’t want to give the man the satisfaction, unknown though it was, of driving her out of anywhere just because he was a loudmouthed boob. She wouldn’t forgive him for it, but she wasn’t going to let him ruin her day either.
The redheaded woman finished pouring a cup of coffee and walked up to her with a bright smile. “Good morning, can I get you a table? Though honestly, you can take any open table. No need to wait, Hun.”
“Well, I would like that, but
I’m not sure you could accommodate my other guest.” She pointed out the door at Cheerio who was sitting next to the bike rack, currently doing his best poor-me impression and acting like he’d been beaten by a stick.
The redheaded woman took one look and laughed. “Oh my, he does look forlorn out there, doesn’t he? Is it a he or a she? I don’t mind him coming in as long as he doesn’t bite anyone. We’re a small town, and people have pets.”
“He’s a he, and his name’s Cheerio. He does put on a good act, doesn’t he? He hates his leash,” Abby said, then turned back to the waitress. Susan had said the same, but that hadn’t turned out so well. “Are you sure? You don’t have an evil boss that’s going to come out and yell at me, are you? That’s what happened in the last place I was just at, and I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. Especially the people being friendly.”
The woman chuckled good-naturedly before shaking her head. “The Boss is a known slave-driver, but I would never call the boss evil because that would be me.” She held her hand out and grinned. “Names Becky, just like on the sign so when I say he’s okay to come in you’ve got my word the boss won’t be out to yell at anyone.”
Abby grinned and shook Becky’s hand before quickly untying Cheerio’s leash and leading him back to the door. Becky held the door for them and gave Cheerio a passing scratch to his ear. “Good timing! I think while you were gone most of the tables filled up, but I saved one for you,” she said jokingly before straightening up and spreading her hands out to the tables and customers. “Go ahead and sit, I’ve got a bowl I can bring water out for Mr. happy here. It will give you time to look at the menu and see what you would like. I guarantee we have the best omelets in the entire county.”
Abby sat and picked up the simple paper menu, perusing it quietly until Becky returned with a bowl of water and placed it next to Cheerio, then pulled out a pad and pencil. “What will you have, Hun?”
“One of those omelets sounds great, but I have no idea what this word is,” Abby said as she pointed to the menu.
Becky leaned over and glanced at where Abby was looking before smiling. “Must be new to the Northwest, but there’s nothing wrong with that. That’s a chanterelle mushroom. It is one of those local things that people crawl around in the forest searching for up in these parts. It’s in season now so we have some in and they taste really good, especially in an omelet.” Becky paused and glanced over at Mr. Malcolm before looking back. “I’d also recommend getting one before Craig eats them all.”
“Chanterelle?” Abby said thoughtfully and tapped her chin. “Why the heck not. I do like mushrooms, and I don’t ever think I’ve had one of those so let’s give it a whirl.”
“Anything to drink? Also, if you want, I can bring some sausages out for your little bandit here.”
“Tea, please. Earl Grey if you’ve got it and I think Cheerio would love you forever if you brought some bacon.”
Becky winked and nodded before walking away to let Abby enjoy a few moments of just looking out the window at the small town she was slowly exploring. Everything around her, except the bank, had felt like it had an age to it but not in a way that felt like it was going to collapse. It felt old in a right way. A permanent way that told her things around her weren’t going to just up and disappear on her. She sighed, realizing that wasn’t a bad thing compared to what had been her life for the past year or so.
First Danny, then her identity as an army wife, then her home on the post, and finally just sitting in some apartment that she’d barely noticed. All of it had been taken away like it didn’t matter, but this town wasn’t that way. At least, she hoped it wasn’t. As she sat and waited for her food, she was happy to see that Cheerio was the center of attention for those that were leaving. Most of them would stop and pet him on the way out and in turn give Abby a smile as well. Perhaps the mayor was right. Maybe Cheerio was the best way to meet people.
She smiled to herself as she watched Becky tend to her customers. She seemed to have a good way with them, but though things were busy, they were also apparently winding down from the morning rush. When Becky returned to her table with a heaping omelet and placed it in front of her, there were few customers still in attendance.
To Abby’s surprise, after Becky had placed the omelet and tea and gave Cheerio his plate of bacon, she took a seat across from her with her cup and took a long sip. Abby watched her for a moment, startled at the company and trying to decide how she felt about it.
After Becky had taken her drink, she closed her eyes to savor the flavor before opening them again and focused on Abby. “Oh, I forgot to ask. Did you want any ketchup or hot sauce?”
Abby chuckled before shaking her head. “No, um, no. Sorry if I was staring, I’m just not used to people sitting down at my table out of the blue.”
“Damn owner, always being pushy. I guess I forgot to mention the owner is a nosy snoop,” Becky said, shrugging as she flashed Abby a disarming smile. “I figured I should get the skinny on the new person in town. Even if you’re only visiting, it’s not like we get many new people and I promise I won’t dig for the real dirt right away. In return, I’ll happily spill the beans on everyone else so you can avoid some of the pitfalls.”
“Too late. I think I already ran into some of those pitfalls you mentioned,” Abby said companionably. “I’ll have to deduct some points from you for that. You really should have come running across the street and tackled me before going into the bank.”
Becky laughed while also wincing. “Let me guess. Our beloved bank manager Frank Millerson?”
Abby nodded, then crooked a finger toward Craig Malcolm which just made Becky laugh, even more, eliciting an annoyed glance from the target of her mirth.
“A double whammy? My goodness, I do owe you some points, don’t I?” At that moment Craig raised his hand for the check. Becky put her tea down before smoothly rising, covering her mouth once more to hide a chuckle before composing herself and turning. “Just a second. His Majesty needs something. Go ahead and dig into that omelet and let me know what you think.”
Abby watched Becky move off to take care of Craig before digging into her omelet. The smooth buttery taste of the omelet seemed to float in her mouth before melting, leaving behind a creamy texture that then blossomed into a strange mix of fruit and nut. She didn’t recognize it and suspected it might be the strange mushrooms that Becky had mentioned. She smiled warmly and took several more bites before her host finished with Craig and came back to her seat and a still warm cup of tea.
“Well?” Becky asked with a raised eyebrow.
“This is heavenly,” Abby said as she leaned back in her chair. “I think the omelet itself would be great anyway, but those mushrooms. They are kind of nutty and fruity tasting. Very nice.”
Becky nodded, pleased at the response, but her eyes flicked over to Craig’s table before she snorted in irritation. Abby looked over, watching as Craig opened up the menu and began typing something into his phone.
“What’s wrong?” Abby asked curiously.
Becky snorted again and rolled her eyes. “Well, the first bit of dirt. Craig Malcolm is the richest SOB in town, but he double checks his bills with his calculator. Every single time. Even if it’s a single item like a cup of coffee. He also,” Becky said archly and raised an eyebrow, “doesn’t believe in tipping. I asked him about it once, and he said that the prices on the menu were fair market value. Why should he bother tipping? That should tell you all you need to know about that guy.”
Abby shook her head and matched Becky’s scowl. “That does tell me a lot about him. Anyone who doesn’t tip probably should’ve been eaten by tigers when they were young. While I was over at the bank, he and the manager were telling stupid blonde jokes loud enough for everyone to hear. Then they made Susan get them coffee. I almost fell out of the chair. Is that normal in this town?”
Becky shook her head and laughed. “Thank goodness, no. I mean, don’t get me wrong, there are a few holdouts th
at are determined not to crawl out of the nineteenth century. They are easy to spot with their sloped brows and clubs, but for the most part, people are polite and friendly.” Becky leaned forward and almost whispered. “Seriously? Frank made Susan get him coffee?”
Abby nodded vehemently. “Yes. In fact, he shouted it across the lobby.”
Both women just looked at each other and reached for their tea at the same time, taking long sips as they both considered that bit of information. After a few moments, Becky put her drink down and gave Abby a look. “So, are you staying in town or just traveling through? Please say you’re staying? I don’t get the chance to talk to or gossip with many people my age.”
“Staying,” Abby said, smiling brightly and feeling happy at being wanted. “I just arrived yesterday at my grandmother's. Hazel Morgan.”
“Hazel? Now there’s a sweetheart. She’s always a riot to talk to and is nice to everyone. That’s a great place to stay, too. I can’t imagine living out on that island with that excellent view every day.”
“It is pretty spectacular, and the house itself is beautiful. I love hardwood, and it’s full of it.”
“Well, if you’re staying I’ve got a proposition for you and an excellent way to meet people. This weekend is the Fall Festival, and I would love to have somebody help me in the booth if you’re up for it. I promise I’ll even pay you,” Becky paused and then leaned forward. “Real money, too! Not rocks like Frank Flintstone probably pays Susan with.”
Abby thought about it for only a moment. A festival sounded like just the thing to see many of the people in the town, and it would be good to have something to do. Otherwise, she would just wander around for an hour and then leave, never having met anyone. This way she’d have a reason to talk to people and get to hang out with Becky. Something she realized she’d like to do with the friendly redhead. She nodded and smiled. “That sounds like a deal. Thank you. It’s hard enough being new.”
Hot Tea and Cold Murder: A Red Pine Falls Cozy Mystery (Red Pine Falls Cozy Mysteries Book 1) Page 3
