I opened my mouth to respond, but was utterly at a loss for words.
Words didn’t seem to be required. Lois wrapped her arm around my shoulders, which was no small feat, considering I was several inches taller than the woman, and led me toward the door. She shoved what was left of the dog bone at me. “This is made from peanut butter I ground myself, and organic grains. They are five dollars apiece, but this one’s on the house.” She opened the door for me and stood aside. “Welcome to town, Fred.”
“Thank you, Lois.” I clutched the paper bag and waggled the dog bone in Watson’s direction, capturing his attention. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go.” Watson tore off from where he’d been sniffing in the back corner of the shop. I nodded my thanks to Lois once more, then walked to the car. I changed my mind a few paces away from my burnt-orange Mini Cooper. Turning around, I headed back toward the front door of the taxidermy shop. I’d been so excited to see inside, to get lost in the planning of what my bookstore would look like, that I had driven straight here when we got into town.
After locking her front door, Lois crossed in front of Heads and Tails, gave a final friendly wave, and disappeared into Sinful Bites once more.
Pushing the odd sisters out of my mind, I addressed Watson as we stopped at the front door. “I’m sure you’ll love all the smells you’re going to find in there, but just remember, if we come across a dead animal and I scream, you’re forbidden from telling anyone. If you do, there won’t be any treats for a week.”
Watson gave a quick, sharp bark.
“Crap. I said treat, didn’t I?” At the repeated word, Watson resumed bouncing, his dark brown eyes wild with excitement and looking like a deranged bunny.
I couldn’t help but chuckle as I lifted what was left of the dog bone. “Luckily, we have one. You can get it as soon we’re inside.”
I paused at the lockbox hanging from the door handle, then set the bag of healthy candy—what a thought that was—at my feet. Catching my reflection in the window, the paper behind the glass causing it to act nearly as effectively as a mirror, I couldn’t help but scowl. My hair was a complete mess, and a sheen of light caught the gleam from dog hair. I glanced down at my peasant blouse. Life with a corgi meant I was in constant need of a lint roller, but after the day in the car, things had gotten to a nearly ludicrous level. To make matters worse, I gave my brown broomstick skirt a flick with my wrist and sent a fresh wave of dog hair spiraling around me. Wonderful. So much for putting my best foot forward. Meeting three of my neighbors while looking like I was part corgi myself.
Well, whatever. Too late to be helped now. Besides, it wasn’t like I’d ever actually be dog-hair-free anyway. Pushing the concern away, I pulled out my cell and scrolled through text messages from my mother until I came across the lockbox code. I punched in the four digits and gave a yank. There was no click and the lock didn’t budge. Clearing it, I tried again. Same reaction. I checked the text, confirming I had the numbers right, then tried a third time. When I was still denied, I tapped my mother’s name and lifted the phone to my ear.
It rang several times, then finally clicked to a message saying my mother’s voice mail was full and could no longer accept messages. What else was new? I tried the lockbox one final time. For a moment, I considered breaking the window on the front door and reaching in. It was my shop, after all.
What a way to start a new adventure, breaking and entering. Patience had never been a virtue I fostered, but letting out a resigned huff that sounded more like a corgi than a woman, I stuffed my cell back into my pocket. “Looks like we’re thwarted at the moment, Watson.”
Retrieving the paper bag, I led us back to the car, held the door for Watson to hop in, then followed.
I’d been so ecstatic about opening the bookshop, I hadn’t even considered who my neighbors might be. Being directly between Lois and Opal was going to be…. Well, I was afraid I didn’t have a word for exactly what that was going to be. I doubted it would be all that pleasant.
Watson chuffed.
“You feel it too, don’t you, boy? Who knows what we’re going to have to face with those two. At least we have each other.”
He let out a long pitiful whine.
“Aww, look at you being all empathetic. What’s gotten into—”
I realized Watson’s frantic gaze was focused on my hand, not looking deep into my eyes and sharing a moment. “Oh, I forgot.” I handed him what remained of the all-natural dog biscuit with a sigh.
When the combination on the front door of the cabin didn’t work either, I had half a mind to leave the bag of all-natural candy on the porch for the squirrels, toss Watson into the Mini Cooper, and hightail it back to Missouri. Or anywhere else, for that matter. As far as hitting the Reset button of life, this was turning out to not be so smooth.
This time, however, Mom answered her cell on the third ring. I sat on the ancient driftwood bench while Watson plopped down on the corner of the porch and observed a couple of chipmunks scampering over the roots of a nearby evergreen.
Though only a little after six in the evening, night had fallen, and the November air was brisk. As we sat waiting, my impromptu uprooting of my entire existence began to feel right once more. I’d forgotten how vibrant the stars seemed in the mountains, overlooking rocky peaks and massive forests. They were so clear a person could almost believe she could reach out and pluck one from the sky. Even the swirls of the Milky Way were visible. Not to be outdone, the soft breeze whispered gently through the bare branches of aspen trees, carrying the fresh scent of pine, earth, and snow. The gurgling of the partially frozen Fall River, several yards away from the back of the cabin, was nearly hypnotic.
This was good. So very, very good.
I’d forgotten how beautiful it was in Estes Park. Forgotten the way my pulse slowed and my mind relaxed. It didn’t matter that the bookshop would have a cranky candy-store owner on one side and a fake candy store on the other.
After nearly ten minutes, I also realized I’d forgotten just how far removed my grandparents’ old cabin was. There was a new development of designer houses to drive through to reach it, but they were a good quarter mile away and not visible through the trees. At any other time, that would be a pleasing thought, but not when I couldn’t get into the house. My grandfather always said bears were more afraid of us than we were of them. I never wanted to test his theory.
Just as my brain began to turn the sounds of the surrounding forest into something sinister and I was about to suggest to Watson that we take refuge in the Mini Cooper, headlights cut through the trees, flashing across the porch and then disappearing again as a vehicle came up the winding road.
The massive truck barely missed my rear bumper and slammed to a halt. Mom practically threw herself out of the passenger side, giving a graceful leap to the ground, which, considering her diminutive stature and age, was impressive.
“Winifred!” She hurried across the small distance, met me before I’d made it off the porch, and wrapped me in her arms. “Welcome home, baby!”
“Hi, Mom.” As always, at barely five foot tall, she felt like a doll in my embrace, so tiny and fragile.
She pulled back after little more than a moment, then scurried over to the front door and began punching what seemed like random codes into the lockbox. “Come on. Let’s get you inside. You must be freezing. You’re not used to these Colorado winters.”
“You’ve only been back six years, Mom. Surely you haven’t forgotten that Midwest winters are much worse than anything you all have out here.”
Watson bounded up and let out a happy yip, then rushed toward the truck.
“Well, hello there, little buddy.” Barry Adams leaned his tall lanky frame down to rub briskly at Watson’s sides. “Good to see you again.” They’d only met two other times, but for whatever reason, they’d bonded. Each time Watson saw Barry, it was like Barry was a walking dog bone. After a few seconds, Barry stood once more and gave me a tentative hug. Despite that hesi
tation, his deep voice was warm and full of affection. “Glad you’re here, Fred. Your mother’s been over the moon knowing you are going to be near once more. And I think you’ll be happy.”
I returned his hug. I liked the guy. A lot. Not to the same level as Watson, but still. However, it was odd to think of him as my stepfather now, so I didn’t. “Thanks, Barry. I think it’ll be good.”
“Barry!” Mom called out, not bothering to look over her shoulder nor pausing in her frantic pushing of buttons. “Do you remember the combination I put on this?”
“Pretty sure you put the key in your pocket, didn’t you?” He winked at me.
Mom threw up her hands and then shoved one deep into her pocket. “Sure enough! I swear, I don’t know how I manage to remember a thing.” She slid the key into the lock, twisted, and threw open the door. Then she turned and handed me the key. “I guess this is yours now. Don’t worry about the lockbox. I’m sure the combination will come back to me at some point.”
And then the four of us bustled in. Mom and Barry made quick trips around the house, flicking on lights.
Watson looked up at me, his tongue hanging out in a grin.
“Go on.” I waved him off. “Go explore.”
He was gone, nose to the ground and snuffling here and there like he was guaranteed to discover a treasure.
After shutting the door, I glanced around the cabin. It was smaller than I remembered—probably eight hundred square feet. But also cuter than I recalled. Most of the furniture needed replacing, but the design was good, and the log walls and beams crossing overhead gleamed golden in the light. I peered into the kitchen. It hadn’t been updated since the sixties, but my grandmother had kept it in pristine condition until she died. It seemed the renters over the past decade had done the same. I liked the mint green of the refrigerator and the oven. It suited me.
“We came out here yesterday and cleaned a little. It wasn’t in too bad a shape. We were hoping to have time to clean out the shop as well, but we didn’t quite get around to that.” Mom stroked the curtains over the small kitchen window, like she was petting Watson. “I found the time to make these yesterday, though. I thought the kitchen needed some freshening up.”
I stepped forward, narrowing my eyes. “Are those flamingos?”
Mom nodded. “Sure are. I think the pink makes the kitchen look happy.”
“I hope you like them.” Barry shrugged good-naturedly. “I picked out the material.”
“I couldn’t tell.” I had to stifle a laugh. The background of the flamingo material was a lemon-yellow and lime-green tie-dye print. Other than at his and Mom’s wedding, I had never seen Barry out of his tie-dyed T-shirts and loose-fitting yoga pants. “They are lovely. Thank you.”
He beamed.
“Well, we would’ve done more, but we didn’t expect you for another six weeks.” Mom turned back from the curtains, concern etched over her face. “I thought the agreement was for you to stay at the publishing house for the transition to go smoothly.”
The room suddenly felt hot. “I changed the agreement.” The last thing I wanted to talk about was Mysteries Incorporated.
Mom swiped a lock of long silver hair behind her ear as she crossed the kitchen and took my hand into hers. There were still streaks of auburn in her hair, the last vestige of the only physical trait I’d inherited from her.
“I know what she did was awful, honey, but Charlotte was your best friend since you two were little. I’d hate for a little thing like money and business to come between you.”
My mother could find the good in a rabid wolverine if given the chance. “Don’t worry about Charlotte. Trust me, she’s not worrying about us.” Mom opened her mouth to protest, so I switched the topic as I turned to Barry. “I met the neighbors. I don’t think Opal was thrilled at my arrival.”
Barry groaned. “She is a piece of work. If I had other property I could give you besides the taxidermy shop, I’d do it in a heartbeat so you wouldn’t have to put up with her every day.”
Mom swatted him. “None of that. Opal’s a fine woman. Sure, she may be a little grumpy at times, but she’s got a heart of gold. Everyone knows that Lois’s business would’ve had to close its doors within a couple of weeks if not for Opal. Sinful Bites has supported Healthy Delights since they opened. Anyone who’s willing to do that for their sister can’t be all bad.”
I sucked in a little breath before Barry could protest. “Oh, I forgot. Lois gave me a bag of candy. I left it on the porch. I better go get that.”
“Probably a good idea to leave it right where it is, dear.” Mom offered a guilty smile.
“It’s really that bad, huh?”
They both nodded. It was Barry who found the positive that time. “But Lois is a fine woman. Couldn’t ask for nicer.”
Mom smacked the counter. “That reminds me. I made Tofurky stew. It’s in the car. I’ll be right back. I figured you’d be famished after your drive. I wish Verona and Zelda weren’t on a cruise. We could’ve had our first family dinner.”
We stared after her as she hurried away. Barry grinned at me awkwardly. Several silent moments passed before Watson pattered in, accepted a pat on the head from Barry, and then settled at my feet.
Barry cleared his throat. “You like the flamingos, huh?”
“Barry!” Before I had to lie another time, Mom’s raised voice drifted in through the front door of the cabin. “Where did you put the stew?”
He flinched, scrunched up his face in concentration, then his watery blue eyes grew large. “Oh, crud. I forgot she asked me to put it in the truck.” He grimaced. “Be right back.”
I couldn’t help but smile after him. I’d always held my mother and father’s relationship up as the perfect marriage. They’d balanced each other out. Mom was flighty, forgetful, and fun. Dad had been serious, kind, and brave. I had to admit, Mom and Barry together? They didn’t balance each other out in the slightest; they were nearly two identical peas in a pod. But happy. So very happy. I loved that my mother got to have two good marriages in her lifetime when most of us couldn’t even find one.
Mom poked her head in through the front door. “Seems like you and Watson are coming to our house for dinner this evening.” She plopped the paper bag from Lois just inside the doorway. “Here, in case you get a desperate craving in the middle of the night.”
Sleep didn’t come easily, which was no great surprise. I’d left Kansas City in such a rush that I’d dropped a small fortune for a moving and packing company to do it all for me and then drive everything out later. The delivery date was still two weeks away. A long time not to have my own bed, but the sense of freedom of hitting that Reset button was more than worth tossing and turning for a while. Between the lumpy mattress and excitement over starting on the shop, a full eight hours wasn’t in the cards. I doubted I’d even gotten five.
As a result, I poured nearly half a pot of freshly brewed coffee into a large thermos, coaxed a bleary-eyed Watson to the car, and drove downtown before the sun had even considered coming up.
Mom never remembered the code she’d used for the lockboxes, but she’d given me eight different keys off her ring, swearing that one of them would be the correct one. Chances were low, but this whole move was about hope, so I decided to latch on to that as I parked in front of Heads and Tails, sparing a glare at the awful wooden sign above the door. “That will be the first thing to go, Watson. Disgusting name, considering.” I winked at him. “The Cozy Corgi is much better, don’t you think?”
Watson didn’t even bother to sigh.
“You’re no fun.”
After managing to convince Watson to leave the warmth of the car, I stood in front of the shop door, trying key after key. By the fifth failure, hope was fleeting. As I tried to decide if I would drive directly to Mom’s and wake her up so I could get her whole ring of keys, the seventh key slid in with ease, then produced a little click as I twisted the door handle.
Look at that—hope paid off
. Removing the key, I unlocked the deadbolt, then paused. This was it. I was about to see my future bookshop for the first time, enter the place I hoped would bring fulfillment and meaning back into my life.
I cracked the door, and Watson stiffened to instant alert, shoving his nose into the narrow opening.
His reaction startled me, but it only took a second to remember what the store was. Currently my dream future was filled with stuffed, dead animals. Maybe I should’ve waited for daylight.
Watson pushed against the door, shoving his muzzle in.
“At least one of us is going to enjoy this.” I opened the door, and Watson rushed through. “Remember our deal. If I scream, it’s our secret.”
He didn’t bother to reply. With the windows covered in paper, no glow from the streetlamps illuminated the place, and I felt around on the wall beside the door until my fingers found the light switch. Taking a steadying breath, I flicked it on and looked around.
For a ridiculous moment, I wondered if I was in the wrong shop. There was a large central area, with smaller rooms on all sides, so I couldn’t see everything, but from what was visible, there wasn’t a taxidermic animal in sight. Furniture and cabinets here and there, but not even a solitary furry creature. Letting out a sigh of relief, I stepped all the way in and shut the door. Watson’s claws clattering over the hardwood floor sounded from somewhere in the back.
Cruel Candy Page 2
