Small Town Angel

by K'Anne Meinel

  “Well I should be going,” Abby finally said as she checked her watch. “The kids are probably in bed and Bonnie probably waiting up for me.”

  “That’s nice that you have someone to worry about you,” Amy said with a smile.

  “Yes and no, sometimes she is worse than my own parents ever were. My grandparents allowed me more freedom than that woman does,” she complained good-naturedly.

  “Well thank you for dropping by, please bring the children next time so that Bailey can begin his duties in takin’ care of the cat. The cat pan is going to be pretty full by then,” she teased.

  Abby shared a grin at how they were going to slightly torment the kid at his audacity. “I’ll be sure to tell him.” She got into her outdoor gear, layers to protect against the intense cold that seemed to grip Wisconsin and especially this small peninsula of land almost surrounded by the big lake.

  It was nice to make friends like this, no fuss, no muss, no expectations, but Abby sensed there was a lot about her new friend that she refused to talk about and wondered about it. The cop in her alone was curious, but the friend wanted to keep her nose out of her friends business unless she chose to share it. In a small town that was sometimes harder to do than not.

  “Did you find out why Bailey was with her today?” Bonnie asked as she came into the front room that was also the police substation. It was a large old living room that had been converted. It even had a small holding cell at the one end. It reminded most people of something out of Mayberry from the Andy Griffith show in its quaint, small town feel, but it saved the county from having to actually build a substation.

  “Yes, the little squirt took that cat over to her, she’s going to keep it,” she assured her mother-in-law as she saw the alarm on the woman’s face. She hung up her outer jacket and scarf remembering how warm and homey the cabin had felt and how much she had enjoyed the conversation with a woman of her own age.

  “Well you did threaten to take her to the pound, you know she is due to have those kittens soon,” Bonnie reminded her.

  “Yes but I didn’t mean anything by it, now I feel bad that he took the matter into his own hands,” Abby confessed as she sighed and looked on the fax machine for anything she had to check up on.

  “The wanted posters came in but I pinned them for you,” Bonnie told her. After years of being married to Jake she was a good receptionist for a cop.

  “Thank you, I’ll take a look at them later,” Abby said wearily. Despite not having a lot of ‘duties’ in a small town there was a lot of territory to cover and things to follow up upon, the county expected a lot out of her for her small territory and it was only four times a month that she got someone rotated in that could relieve her for any length of time. God forbid if she wanted an actual vacation. It was a lax system but this was not a high crime area and most of her work involved tourists. In the summer they would have three full time officers up here and the county would foot the bill, but that was to handle the increase in tourists that occurred every year. At special events they brought in many more.

  “One of them looked kind of familiar,” Bonnie warned.

  Abby smiled, Bonnie always though one of the FBI’s most wanted was going to hide out in the back of Wisconsin. What a perfect spot to hide in plain sight. She had said this often enough that Abby ignored her and proceeded to log in her daily activity, however slight. Maintaining good records at least kept her job consistent. Bonnie wandered away since she wasn’t going to get any more conversation out of the brunette.

  * * * * *

  Spring breakup was a blast in The Thumb. Tourists came up in droves to take advantage of the spring-like weather, the blossoms on the fruit trees, the flowers. The die-hard fishermen went out between the ice floes that still floated about on the lake but were rapidly melting in the huge inland sea known as Lake Michigan. The town was gearing up for the influx of tourists and the money that could be made from them. The Emporium was no exception and the tourists were delighted to find the new store in a previously under-utilized space. The convenience, the variety, and the novelty soon made it a favorite. It helped that it had delicious food and treats as well as helpful people who seemed to enjoy their jobs.

  “We need a bigger dance floor,” one of the older employees complained as she came back from having to deliver burgers to a table and the crowded dance floor was jitterbugging.

  Amy laughed delightedly. They were crowded most days and she had hired a few extra people that she hadn’t planned on originally to keep up with the influx. She wished she could expand the dance floor, as well as the whole store. She wanted to teach the newer generation the older dances that hadn’t quite died out but there was nowhere in town to do that and she really didn’t have the time. She was kept hopping to keep up on her escalating business which was an absolute success.

  “You’d think these people hadn’t ever heard of ice cream!” one of the other employees exclaimed good-naturedly as she went down to the basement to haul up a five gallon container for the ice cream counter.

  Over all Amy was thrilled that her plans had panned out and everything was going well. She even got hit on regularly by tourists at least once a day. Some of the locals hit on her as well when she went to Chuckies or one of the other places that the people who actually lived there congregated, but she was polite to all and refused each one of them gracefully. She wasn’t interested in dating; she had her business, her dog, and now a very active cat.

  * * * * *

  “Tabby, where are you going?” she asked as she watched the cat sneak through her backyard past the spots where the long gone woodpiles had stood.

  She was thrilled actually that Tabby had learned that this was home but didn’t use the cat pan unless the weather was too bad to go outside. Where she went during the day she didn’t know, but she knew any day now she was going to have those kittens and she wanted her home for that, but short of locking her in the cabin she wasn’t going to keep the independent cat at home. The cat seemed to know it was home, maybe it was the delicious and always available food that Amy provided, or the petting, even the play that Toby learned was play and not chase-the-cat.

  * * * * *

  “I think you need a vacation from your store!” Thomas told her as she sipped a beer and ate her fish fry at Chuckies the next Friday.

  “I love the store, why would I take a vacation from it?” she asked once her mouth was empty of the delicious perch she had ordered that night.

  “That’s all you ever do, is work, work, work, no one sees you anymore. You didn’t go out on any of the mud runs this spring since you opened that place!” he complained good-naturedly as he ate his own fish at the bar. The place was packed with people eating the Friday night fish fry, a unique and quaint Midwestern event that Amy was told was common in Wisconsin, some of Minnesota, Iowa, Michigan and even into Illinois. She had never heard of it before, but found it amusing that it was originally for Catholics who couldn’t have meat on Fridays. It was the only day of the week that they had it too. So if she was hungry for fried fish during the week she had to make her own, buy frozen from the grocery store, or just wait until Friday.

  “I know, the store is doing really well though,” she conceded as she took another sip of her beer. It was common for people to drink beers made in Wisconsin, but she preferred a lighter name brand but would never have told anyone here. It was hard enough to get in with her southern accent. They accepted her because she had hired so many of their friends and relatives she was certain.

  “Yes but all work and no play makes Amy a dull girl,” he teased.

  “Leave the woman alone,” his wife Carol admonished him as she took a sip of her beer, a dark ale that made Amy want to gag. She had tried it as Carol and Thomas assured her it was a good tasting beer, but it simply wasn’t her type of beverage. Besides she really preferred a nice wine, but in this crowd that would be mutiny.

  As always happened when she met up with the other townies she was learning t
o befriend, their talk turned to some of their favorite hobbies. In Carol and Thomas’ case it was making beer in their basement. They made several different kinds and considered themselves experts in beer making. It was all ‘in the water’ and they had a fresh spring on their property that allowed them to have the freshest water for their brewing. It ‘made the difference’ according to them both and Amy didn’t argue with them since she knew nothing about it. She had tried some of their beers to be social and one of them had knocked her on her ass with its alcohol content. It had given her a helluva hangover too the next morning and that was after just one glass, albeit a large glass.

  “You’ve got to watch that stuff, those home brews will kill you,” Abby consoled her as she ate ibuprofen in quantity the next day and tried to work too.

  “It was only one glass though,” she complained as she hoped that the water wouldn’t upset her stomach which was doing a good imitation of a spin cycle on a washing machine.

  “Yes but its quality stuff,” Abby grinned as she sipped a sarsaparilla at the counter. She liked coming into The Emporium once a day and their lunches were pretty damn good. Their clam chowder on Saturday night was killer too. The recipe that Amy used crumbled bacon in it and it was worth every penny. The thought of it just made Abby’s mouth water waiting for Saturday night to come so she could have a bowl, never just a cup of the concoction. The diced potatoes and other additions were just a bonus to the rich broth the woman made and you couldn’t discount the tiny round crackers she offered with the soup or the homemade bread bowl she offered it in.

  “Are you boring our local entrepreneur with beer talk again?” Abby asked as she came up to the bar to get more root beer for her and her family who could be found almost every Friday in their booth.

  “She’s not bored, she seems interested,” Thomas defended himself but he looked at Amy to be sure he hadn’t bored her to death.

  “I am interested,” Amy assured him as she grinned unrepentedly at Abby who knew of these two’s love of making the home brew.

  “Just make sure you don’t sell that stuff or I’ll have to get involved,” Abby assured them.

  “We should sell it the way the boys go through it,” Carol complained.

  Abby watched as a light went on in Amy’s attractive green eyes. It was the same light she had seen go on when she had suggested she sell the hot chocolate in smaller packets. Within a few weeks The Emporium’s Hot Chocolate in various flavors was soon available to the general public and very popular with both tourists and locals alike. Amy had given a gift basket to Abby of all her and her family’s favorite flavors, it had been well received.

  “Why don’t you sell it?” Amy asked as she speared a forkful of fish and then put it in her mouth.

  “Because it’s illegal silly,” Carol said as she glanced at Abby. They didn’t ‘sell’ their concoctions but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a lot of barter going on.

  “But what would it take to set up a micro-brewery?” Amy asked as she chewed the small bite of fish thoughtfully and gestured with her fork.

  Abby rolled her eyes as she gathered the root beer bottles and headed back to her table. From the sound of it she would have an ear full of beer talk with Carol and Thomas before the night was out. She had just lit a fuse.

  * * * * *

  Abby wasn’t surprised that one of the vacant buildings in town became Northpoint Brew a few months later. They had taste testing and their own bottling and distillery. They’d applied for all their licenses and gotten certified by the state and as long as they kept within those certifications they could legally bottle and sell their brews. Carol and Thomas were over the moon at their new business venture. Thomas had been able to quit his ‘day job’ as a custodian down at the local high school and Carol was keeping her job as a cafeteria lunch lady until the place took off. Few if anyone knew that Amy had helped them and backed them in their endeavor. When Abby happened to find out she wasn’t surprised but it made her wonder at the southerner more.

  * * * * *

  “May I have an ice cream Mom?” Heather asked as they came in from getting their boat ready for summer.

  “Let’s finish cleaning this up,” Abby said as they stowed their gear. They had put the boat in the water for the first time this year and taken it out fishing. Bonnie had come along begrudgingly, but she seemed to have enjoyed herself. “How about you Bailey, do you want an ice cream?” she asked as she ruffled his hair, something she couldn’t do much anymore.

  “Sounds good,” he said in a happier voice. He seemed to have grown up a lot this spring. The kittens that had been born out at the cabin that Amy lived in meant he had to ride his bike out there at least once a day to check on them for Amy. She had told him he had misled her in this deal and it was his responsibility to find homes for all four of the little mewlers as she called them.

  Abby almost laughed aloud as she remembered Amy’s frantic call about the kittens. “They’re comin’, they’re comin’!” she said excitedly into the phone on a Wednesday night. She must have just gotten home from work. “Bring the kids over so they can watch, she’s already had one. This is a good educational experience,” she informed the cop. Abby had brought not only the kids, but her mother-in-law who seemed intrigued by the redhead. Abby knew it was because Amy had ‘consulted’ Bonnie on several things around the store, the dock, and the town. It had endeared her to the older woman who appreciated being valued.

  “That’s gross,” the ten year boy had said as he watched the tabby expel a kitten from beneath her tail.

  “That’s natural,” Abby assured him as Heather scrunched up her nose in disgust at the slimy sack that was expelled.

  Amy stood back and watched as the two children, despite being grossed out, watched as each and every one of the kittens were born.

  “You can’t ask for birds and the bees like this,” Bonnie murmured in Amy’s ear as they looked on. Abby looked surprisingly young as she talked quietly with the two children, a softening to her tough cop demeanor that appeared now and then.

  It had been actually a pleasant evening and not until the fourth and final kitten had been born and a considerable amount of time went by did they even consider leaving. It took some convincing and promises from adults before the two children would go home. It was a school night, it was late, and the cat was proudly cleaning her offspring as she lay there purring contentedly. They could all hear Toby snuffling at the door in the master bedroom where he had been consigned.

  “You won’t let Toby get them will you?” Heather worried.

  “Tabby won’t let him near them,” Bailey answered her with a superior tone. He was proved wrong when Toby was found cuddled around the kittens while Tabby ate food in the kitchen a few days later. Toby seemed to think they were ‘his’ charges. That Tabby, who he had accepted long ago, especially once he realized she had sharp claws, wasn’t going to run for him, and treated him with disdain. He adored her and greeted her enthusiastically each time he saw her in the yard.

  “Let’s wash up before we go in The Emporium,” Bonnie advised after a day on the water and fishing. They were all a little grimy. The boat had needed an outing and now it would need to be washed down. They tied off at their dock next to the one for The Emporium, now lined on one side with canoes for rent and the gas pump on the other side waiting for boaters to ‘fill up.’

  “I’ll water down the boat and cover it if you will all take the gear in,” Abby offered. She rinsed the boat and pulled the drain plug so any water she sprayed over the deck would drain out as she sprayed it down. She used a scrub rag and as she rubbed down the boat she sensed rather than saw eyes on her. She looked up not surprised to see Amy watching her from the store. She waved as she continued to wash down the boat. She was almost done and she wanted to change before they went over for ice cream.

  Amy watched her friend thoughtfully wondering why she had parked so far in on her dock. She learned later that the second berth was for the sheriff�
�s boat that was kept there but it hadn’t been put in the water yet. She was in her office for a few minutes and had watched the family dock at their private dock. She wondered at the odd family dynamics but they seemed so natural, so right, she couldn’t help but enjoy them.

  “Did you catch anything?” she asked the family as she visited with them in one of the booths later.

  The kids nearly let their ice cream melt as they told her about fishing and being out on the boat, going past the islands, and to one of ‘their’ fishing spots.

  “You should come with us sometime,” Bailey offered as he licked at a drip on his cone.

  “It sounds delightful, I’ll let you all finish up now,” she answered politely as she nodded to the adults who had barely spoken in the children’s enthusiasm over the outing.

  “You don’t have to go do you?” Heather mourned over her own ice cream which looked like she was wearing more of it than ingesting it.

  “I do have work to do but I’d like to ask you two to walk Toby if it’s not too much,” she looked at Abby and Bonnie apologetically for not asking them first instead of the children. The children quickly agreed and Abby had no choice but to agree. She didn’t mind, she really didn’t. The kids enjoyed ‘helping’ Amy like this and Toby had become their dog, once removed.

  * * * * *

  Late in the spring after the breakup and for Memorial Day the town hosted a festival with a parade and plenty of people showed up for both. Amy saw that they took this seriously and made notes in her head to be better prepared for next year. As it was, any Veteran in uniform or who could show a Military I.D. got all the free ice cream they could eat. The Emporium was very popular for this gesture alone. It vied with the new Northpoint Micro-brewery that was giving samples to Vets in moderation.

  “Wow, my feet are killing me,” Thomas bitched good-naturedly the Monday after Memorial Day weekend. Their new store was a success and he appreciated Amy’s help, both financial and in marketing it. She had made both Carol and he go on a tour of micro-breweries in the state to see how they were doing things and on a couple of occasions she had joined them so that they could ‘brew’ ideas of their own and the store would be a success.