by Terri Thayer
“Heck, no,” Rocky said. “Stamping Sisters can barely afford to stay in business. I’ll go under if I give away stuff.”
“You may display your products and hand out whatever information you want, but no sales.”
The chair banged his gavel and called for the next order of business. Rocky and April beat a hasty retreat as the council took up the question of a noisy dog groomer.
They clattered down the steps. “Well, that was interesting,” April said.
Rocky was not in the mood for small talk. “Whatever. Listen, I’m going to call a special meeting of the stampers. We’ll do samples of cards, three or four collages. Suzi can do some burn-out scarves with the stamps.”
Rocky had her phone open and was composing an e-mail as she talked.
“Let’s meet at my place on Wednesday. Bring the new stamps. I can decorate the booth with the samples. I’ll garner some attention for Stamping Sisters one way or the other. Nobody said I can’t recruit new folks to sell the stamps at the bleeding Ice Festival.”
“Wednesday?” April said. It was Friday. That gave April only five days to work up a line of stamps. That wasn’t much time to think up ideas that were original, distinctive.
Rocky looked up, surprised. “Welcome to the world of retail, girlfriend. We have to take advantage of this opportunity. What’s the problem? I once did fourteen collages in a day to satisfy a customer. You do what you have to do.”
April sighed. Rocky was right. The more stamps Rocky sold, the more money April made. She needed to fill the tank with heating oil in another three weeks or so. Each fill-up cost nearly a thousand dollars and lasted two months. The barn with its senior residents was not exactly energy efficient.
They parted ways in the bank parking lot, and April turned on her phone.
“I got the new chain saw,” Mitch crowed on April’s voice mail. “You’re not going to believe how lightweight it is. And it starts so fast. I can’t wait to see you with this baby in your arms. Where are you?”
CHAPTER 4
When she got to the barn, Mitch was in her driveway, carrying a faux leather bag. She could see how excited he was, walking back and forth. April held out her phone.
“Is that what you’re on about? You got a new chain saw?” she said. It was tough getting excited about a new chain saw, but she was trying. That’s what it meant to be a girlfriend: get excited about stuff you had no interest in whatsoever. Like ice sculpting. At least he wasn’t into stock car racing or Dungeons and Dragons.
“I did, and while I was there, Chet showed me this.” He held up the bag as if it were a prize turkey in the annual Thanksgiving hunt. “It’s so light, you’ll be able to handle it with no trouble.”
She took the bag from his outstretched arm. She zipped open the large industrial zipper and peeked inside. Whatever it was, it was pink. Hot pink. This was her day for unexpected gifts.
She looked up at him for an explanation.
He was grinning like a kid. Her first response was a weakening of the knees because his smile changed his face, making all of his features fit together in a new way. His dimples got deeper, and his eyes twinkled. The cleft in his chin deepened. She liked a happy Mitch. Liked it a lot.
She pulled out the little chain saw. Mitch admired it.
“This is going to be a snap for you. You carve stamps all the time. This isn’t that much different.”
April was dubious. “My X-Acto doesn’t have a plug. Or chains. Or make noise.”
“That’s the best part. You rev this baby up, and varoom, you know you’re alive.” He shouted the last couple of words because he’d pulled the lawn-mower-type cord and started the motor. He held up the saw like a psycho from a slasher movie and grinned.
April had to laugh. Mitch was as far from Jason as you could get. “Mitch, I don’t know anything about carving ice.”
“Homework, baby, homework. We’ll have to study every night.” He sidled in for a kiss, still revving the chain saw. April leaned back until he turned it off and then kissed him quickly.
She could see this was not a fight she was going to win. She might as well embrace it.
“It’s going to be fun,” Mitch said, his voice unfortunately sounding a lot like Jack Nicholson’s in The Shining.
“I’ll try,” she said. “But it sounds cold.”
“We have ways of warming you up,” Mitch said.
A thick layer of clouds meant that night had arrived by four o’clock when the party started, but Mary Lou’s house was ablaze when Mitch and April pulled up. Paper bag luminaries lit up the walkway to the front door of her center hall Colonial. The porch columns were barber-poled with twinkle lights.
The night air was so cold that April grabbed Mitch’s arm for comfort when he opened her door. He hauled her out of the Jeep and tucked her hand under his arm. She pushed the other one in her pocket and put her head down. Mary Lou’s house sat on a rise, and the wind was howling. April began to rethink her prejudice against earmuffs.
“Why don’t you have more clothes on?” she asked him. Mitch was dressed in a turtleneck sweater and jeans. No coat or hat. April felt the frigid air bite through her full-length wool coat as though it were made of seersucker.
“Not cold,” he said simply.
She gave him a gentle shove but pulled him back quickly as she needed his body heat.
“Am I going to know anyone at this party?” Mitch said.
“You’ll probably know more people than me,” April said. Mitch’s ties to the town and valley were generations deep.
“But it’s a newcomer party,” Mitch said.
“The stampers will all be here.”
April had been here for stamping events, but this was the first time Mitch had been to Mary Lou’s. He only knew her through April and his sister.
Mary Lou’s husband, Peter, opened the front door and ushered them in, telling them to lay their coats in the computer room just off the foyer. It was a cozy room, walls filled with wood built-ins. Framed citations told of the couples’ success as Realtors. They’d been members of the million-dollar-listing club for years. Not an easy feat when the average home price in the valley was under two hundred thousand.
From the sounds of the noises coming from the other room, the party was well under way.
April pulled Mitch in for a quick kiss.
“Let’s do this,” Mitch said with forced enthusiasm.
The entire first floor was filled with people. The formal living room was to their left, and the two couches that flanked the fireplace were filled. People stood around the dining room, picking at the stuffed mushrooms and spanakopita. April spotted chocolate-covered strawberries. Leave it to Mary Lou to find berries in the dead of winter. She felt herself salivate.
April and Mitch followed the flow into the kitchen where he set down the bottle of wine they’d brought. April hoped it suited Mary Lou’s taste. She’d picked it because she liked the label. Selection at the state liquor store was shockingly meager. And expensive. As a girl used to cheap California wines, she suffered severe sticker shock.
April waved to Kit, who was standing next to a group of women her age across the large family room that opened off the country kitchen. The twins were nowhere to be seen. Kit waved back.
A waiter dressed in a white shirt and black pants offered them drinks. April took a sip from her glass. It was some kind of punch. It tasted good, so she’d have to watch herself. Drinks that tasted like Kool-Aid were her downfall.
A tall man nudged Mitch, nearly spilling his drink. He’d been given a drink that was brown and manly, not pink.
“Winchester, you up for a rematch? Ready for me to kick your butt?”
The florid man took Mitch’s proffered hand and managed to turn it into an elbow twisting greeting that Mitch endured with a tight smile.
Looked as though Mitch knew someone here after all. April didn’t recognize the guy but figured it was a club thing. The members of the country club seemed to
love tournaments as much as they did cabernet. There were the spring and fall golf classics, and tennis tournaments every weekend in the summer. Even in January, there were Risk or Scrabble tournaments. Mitch was a competitive guy, but April hadn’t thought he’d signed up for the latest tournament. She thought she’d heard it was a video game round-robin. Not his thing.
Mitch had manners, though. “April, this is Buck Sienstra. He’s the holder of the Aldenville Cup. For now.”
Buck took her hand and pumped it. “Your buddy here has never managed to beat my team. Too bad.”
Mitch smiled. “This year I have a secret weapon, Bucko. Don’t you worry about me.”
“Chain saws at dawn, my man. Chain saws at dawn. See you on the twenty-fifth.” Buck jiggled Mitch’s shoulder heartily and disappeared into the crowd.
Rocky and Suzi came up and exchanged hugs and kisses with Mitch and April. Suzi had dressed up for the occasion. She was wearing a cardigan with a garden theme, blue corduroys and a red turtleneck. A charm shaped like a trowel dangled from a gold chain. Spring couldn’t come fast enough for Suzi.
Rocky was all in black, except for a swath of color at her neck.
“Quite the party, yes?” Rocky said.
April surveyed the room. Mary Lou’s family room was massive, at least thirty feet long and twenty feet across. A huge brick fireplace dominated the far wall. The fire was lit with tiers of candles. Mary Lou had cut snowflakes from bright white paper and hung them from the ceiling in a faux blizzard.
The end of the room closest to the kitchen had a bar top and five stools, which were all occupied. Two red leather sectionals were covered with bodies. People seemed to be standing on every available inch of hardwood. The noise of conversation made it necessary to shout.
“Do you know any of these people?” April asked Rocky.
Rocky was wearing a hand-knitted long scarf as a shawl. She draped one end across her neck as she spoke, winding the ends around and around. The wool was gorgeous, pinks and reds, boucles and mohair. April snuck a touch as the piece passed her. It was as soft as it looked.
Rocky said, “Most of them are people Mary Lou and Peter sold a house to.”
“This year?” April said. There were at least sixty couples here. It seemed unlikely that that many new people had moved in since last year.
“No,” Suzi said. “Once you’re on Mary Lou’s list, you never get taken off. She just keeps adding.”
That explained the number of people. Some were young couples, probably just starting out in their first home. Others were older, probably retirees who’d downsized.
Mary Lou steamed toward them, carrying a casserole dish. The tangy smell of barbecue sauce followed her.
“April,” Mary Lou said, stopping briefly. “I haven’t forgotten about looking for a rental for you. I downloaded a list. Come by the office tomorrow.”
Mitch’s head snapped around. “A rental?” He didn’t look angry, just surprised.
Mary Lou powered on past them into the kitchen. April stuttered. “I’m . . .”
Kit came up behind them, throwing her arm around Suzi and forcing the three women into a group hug. She didn’t know how grateful April was for the interruption. Mitch hadn’t been kept in the loop about April’s plans. She’d been waiting to see if anything was available that she liked before having that talk.
Suzi said, “What’s this your mother tells me? You’ve got a new house?”
“A foreclosure, right?” Rocky said. “I bet she got a sweet deal.”
April pulled back to look at Kit. Mary Lou had been talking about all the foreclosures in the valley for months.
Kit’s face grew troubled. “Yeah, Mom and Logan surprised me.”
She didn’t look too happy to April.
“Where is it?”
“Out Dowling Road, in fact, a couple miles past your farm,” Kit said.
“Way out there?” Rocky said.
Kit’s mouth twitched. Rocky’d hit a nerve. “I’d been hoping to be closer to town. With the twins, you know. But it’s nice. Three-bedroom ranch.” Her shoulders slumped. “It needs a lot of work.”
Mitch said, “Well, if you need any help . . .”
Kit smiled, glancing at her mother, who’d just returned with a silver ice bucket. She turned her smile up a watt, but it still looked fake. “We’ll get it done. Logan and I are going to be working night and day for the next week. The babies are staying with his mother.”
Rocky directed Mitch to a waiter carrying a plate of stuffed mushrooms. The two of them followed him into the family room. Suzi drifted away, following a conversation about the borough council meeting.
Kit looked guiltily at her mother across the room and leaned into April. “I know I should be more grateful but the place was trashed by the last owners. They pulled out the stove, smashed the bathtub.”
April put an arm around Kit. Kit took a deep breath, swiped at the tears that had leaked through, and leaned away. “It’s just not the place I’d pick. I wanted a two-story farmhouse on a town lot.” She took another breath, then said quickly, “I’ll be fine.”
April looked to see what Kit had seen that had changed her demeanor. Mary Lou had noticed their heads together and was heading their way.
She didn’t look happy. “Kit, please refill the punch bowl,” she said. Kit moved away and went into the kitchen. Mary Lou turned away.
April muttered, “Why do I feel like I did something wrong?”
Suzi, standing nearby, overheard April’s remark and said, “She’s a bear when it comes to her family.”
And yet her brother’s ashes live in a beautiful box in the funeral home’s basement, April thought. It just didn’t make sense.
CHAPTER 5
The door opened and a cold wind blew in. April felt Rocky stiffen next to her. “Oh, lordy, let the good times roll,” she drawled.
April looked around the crowd of partygoers and saw Officer Henry Yost enter. Her favorite neighborhood cop. She sighed.
“I wonder why he’s here,” Mitch said.
“Following me. Everywhere I go, I run into him,” April said. “He was at the council meeting last night giving me the evil eye. Did I tell you last week he gave me a ticket for going twenty in a twenty-five-mile-an-hour zone?”
Mitch patted her arm. “Henry just needs more to do. This town is too quiet for him.”
“Is that why the council is voting to get rid of him?” she asked.
Mary Lou appeared in front of the fireplace. She clapped her hands twice. The loud sound was lost in the din of conversation, but as people noticed her standing there, they quieted. April looked around. The crowd was suddenly all women. The men seemed to have vanished.
Mary Lou spoke earnestly. “I have a special treat for you tonight. Most of you know Officer Yost, the town’s preeminent law enforcement officer. He offered to speak about the safety of our community. He has years of experience with neighborhood policing, and he has joined up with Rosen Homes Realty to offer his services to you individually. His feeling, and mine, is that if he knows you, knows your name, learns your children’s names, he can offer his best services.”
“I’d keep him away from your sixteen-year-old daughters,” Rocky whispered.
April laughed. She knew she was being mean, but Yost had never been a friend to her family and was an easy target to boot. He was incompetent and inept, with an overinflated sense of importance.
Yost took his place in front next to Mary Lou. He was wearing his dress uniform with black leather knee-high boots like a motorcycle cop would wear. His hat was a version of the Smokey the Bear hat worn by the state troopers. His badge was shiny, as was his leather belt and holster. Image was everything to Yost. Considering he had to pay for all of it himself, it was an impressive outfit.
Mary Lou asked people to find a seat and get comfortable. Her son, Connor, home from college, had set up a computer to display a slide show on the wide-screen TV. A title card flashed: “How to
Be a Good Neighbor.”
The newcomers seemed to be impressed.
“He’s working hard to save his job,” April said. “Maybe if he frightens the housewives into calling the cops every time they see a stranger, he can change the council’s mind.”
He started by talking about the dangers of not being aware of one’s surroundings. Self-defense was key. He just happened to be offering a course for women in protection techniques.
Rocky said, “Ranger Rick is milking it. Or is he more Dudley Do-Right?”
A woman with a tall ponytail turned and shushed Rocky. April giggled. The thought of Yost being more interesting than Rocky was ridiculous.
But she had to admit the crowd appeared to be fascinated. Yost was pandering to their fears. He talked about the two break-ins as if the Jesse James gang had suddenly come alive and started robbing houses. Not that a traveling salesman had left his laptop in his car in plain sight. Or that a boyfriend had broken into his girlfriend’s apartment and taken the TV he’d paid for. Not exactly like living in the Tenderloin.
Yost said, “You need to make sure to secure your premises. Don’t leave your garage open when you’re at home. If you’re working in the backyard, lock your front door.”
Most people in Aldenville were more in danger of a raccoon trashing their house by coming in through the cat door than an actual burglar. But Yost wouldn’t be in business without fear. Fear was what drove people to call the police.
“Secure premises,” Rocky said in a funny voice.
“Got it,” April said, laughing.
The older generation in Aldenville didn’t lock their doors most of the time. April had come home many times to find Grizz and Charlotte asleep in their recliners with the front door wide open. She couldn’t decide if she felt more or less safe because they never bolted the door. She didn’t want to invite trouble, but it was nice to feel it unnecessary to lock up tight.
“Is there a drug problem in town?” an earnest-looking woman with long earrings and a sparkly headband asked. Her brow was deeply furrowed as she sipped her red wine. The oversize glass was filled.
