Griff laughed. “I’d forgotten those. You picked frogs.”
Sam nodded. “And even though he knew Mother wouldn’t like it, Vinny put those tiny green frog buttons all over my dress. Even where buttons weren’t needed.”
“Your mother didn’t fire him?” I raised my eyebrows in surprise that such a prank had been let go.
“Oh, she tried.” Sam rolled her eyes. “Nobody else lasted long when Mother threw fits over the garments. She called Vinny back before Christmas that same year.”
“And Vinny doesn’t actually mind you calling him Vinny?”
“He hates it; he’s also given up on changing it.” Sam smirked. “I’ll text and make sure he made it home before we go to bed.”
We agreed on another cooking show, a contest for appetizers and main courses this time instead of all baking, for Griff’s sake. As the judges were about to announce a winner and settle the bets between the four of us, the TV went black, along with the rest of the apartment. Power outage.
Glancing at my phone, I saw that it was after nine. “I guess that means we go to bed. Sam, help me get blankets and pillows from the closet. We can make a pallet in my room. Griff, you can have the couch in here.”
“I won’t need a blanket,” he spoke, clicking the flashlight on his phone to bright. “And these pillows will be fine. Y’all go ahead to bed; don’t worry about me.”
I leaned over and kissed Griff on the cheek. “Night.”
“It’s not so dark in here that I can’t see the PDA,” Sam joked. “And don’t stick your tongue out at me; I’d see that, too.’
I stuck my tongue out anyway, then followed Sam and BeeBee out of the room, careful not to bump into any furniture in the glow of our cell phones. Though we might have been able to squeeze the three of us into my full-size bed, BeeBee opted for a pallet on the floor, insisting she was more than comfortable. Sam and I piled into the bed.
“BeeBee,” Sam shined a light on her face to show it was she who was talking. “I reached out to Landon and he has a few ideas on how to look for your sister.”
I could hear BeeBee’s breath hitch. At last, she said softly, “Thank you.”
“Okay, okay.” I swatted at Sam’s phone to break the thick emotion curling into the room. “Put the light down you’re creeping me out.”
Sam started making scary faces into the light of her phone. Soon, the three of us were making shadow puppets on the ceiling with our cell phones and giggling like middle-school girls at a sleepover.
CHAPTER 15
Wednesday morning was a mess. I awoke to the sounds of a startled BeeBee getting stepped on by Sam on her way to the bathroom. Minutes later, the alarm went off and we all groggily attempted to share the one bathroom to get dressed. Griff opted to skip the shower and left for work. I think three women before makeup and breakfast probably frightened him away; smart man.
At the bakery, chaos continued. The power had indeed gone out and the freezer had defrosted, leaving water running everywhere and, on top of that, Victoria called to tell me that she and Millie would be late. Good thing we pre-baked lots of cookies yesterday.
“It’s not a problem,” I promised again as Victoria apologized on the phone. “You can’t do anything about flooding; we’ll see you when you get here.”
“Who was that?”
“Victoria.” I explained to Sam while I hunted through the junk drawer for a few emergency candles. “The street that her aunt lives on is completely flooded. Evidently, apart from the influx of rain, a tree knocked out a fire hydrant and water ran freely into the street all night.”
“How awful!”
“Do you need me to stay here and help out instead of going to Flo’s?”
“Thanks, BeeBee, I appreciate it but you go ahead. We started out with just the two of us when we opened; we’ll be fine.”
“Besides,” Sam added as she retrieved the mop from the closet. “Gladys should be here today. Isn’t that right, Piper?”
“Yeah. I forgot. She should be here by the time we open.”
“Okay.” BeeBee looked skeptically at the darkened room, took the bag of Cranberry Muffins that I handed her, and let herself out the back door.
While Sam mopped, I checked on all of the dough. “Most of this is still pretty chilled. I don’t think we lost any of it.” I put a few bowls further back in the walk-in fridge, where it was cooler. “We might if the power doesn’t come back on soon though.”
“Maybe it will come on before we open.”
The flickering candle on the work island whooshed out, extinguished by the air from the closet door when Sam put the mop away. I sighed. “We can hope.”
Weak light filtered into the café through the front glass as I unlocked the door two hours later. The rain had lessened but not stopped completely. Sam joined me.
We both jumped as a wet thwack sounded on the pane of glass. Papers and trash had been blowing in the street and now one was stuck to the front window. I moved to go get it but stopped when Sam tugged on my arm.
“Do you see this?”
I leaned down, struggling to make out the image in the darkness. “No.”
“I think it’s another picture of my mother.”
“Let me go get it off the window and we’ll see what it is for sure.”
Holding the soggy paper beneath Sam’s cell phone flashlight, I tried to smooth out the creases but only succeeded in tearing a hole in the center of the article. So much for reading it. Two things were clear, however: one, that was a picture of Deidra and she was not a teenager any longer; two, she was walking up the steps of an adoption agency.
“I don’t understand.” Sam drew in a shaky breath.
Even my own hands wobbled as I tried to make sense of the scene. The headline, the only remotely legible part of the soggy paper, read: SECRET LIFE OF MAYOR’S WIFE?
Folding up the paper, I led Sam to the nearest table. She sank into the chair, unseeing; her gaze drilled into the floor but she wasn’t looking at it. She had gone quiet.
Hurrying, I stuffed the newspaper under the counter and poured a mug of strong coffee. “Drink this.” I wrapped her hands around the mug, insistent.
Behind me, the bakery door burst open, the bell jingling loudly and the storm howling a greeting of its own. Sam and I jumped. The coffee mug slipped from her loose grip and shattered on the floor; the sound of breaking glass lost in the racket of the storm. Coffee sprayed across the shins of my jeans. I gasped as the hot liquid plastered them to my legs.
“It’s raining cats and dogs out there!”
I turned.
Gladys stood patting Mina on the head. She folded her umbrella up and dropped it into the umbrella holder by the door. “My, my! What happened here?” Gladys put her hands on her hips, surveying the broken shards of glass and puddles of coffee.
I shook my head. “Morning, Gladys. Just a little accident.”
“You girls should really be more careful.”
“I’ll get the broom.” Sam folded the newspaper and carried it away with her.
“I take it that the electricity is out here, too?”
“Yep.” I mopped coffee up with a handful of napkins.
Gladys nodded. “I thought it might be. What’s the plan for today; are we open or closed?”
“We have plenty of cookies baked to be open.”
Sam joined us, broom in hand. The shards of coffee cup were soon scooped into the dustpan. “I’m not sure how many customers will stop in with no lights.”
“I can take care of that.” Gladys flipped the collar of her raincoat up to cover her neck. She went back outside, shielding one side of her face from the rain with her hand. She reached into her backseat and emerged with a box so large that it threatened to topple her over.
Flipping the hood of my jacket over my head, I hurried out to help. The large box was cumbersome; I don’t know how Gladys loaded it into the car by herself. The contents clanked and rattled as they swayed against each other
while I walked. There was no lid. I hoped whatever was inside wouldn’t be too damaged by the rain.
Sam held the door open as Gladys and I came back inside.
“What is all of this stuff?” I sat the box down on a table with a thump.
“Supplies.”
Sam and I exchanged nervous glances. Sometimes “supplies” were questionable with Gladys. Though, admittedly, that panic button she gave me had come in handy not long ago. I just hoped these supplies didn’t require a fanny pack.
“What kind of supplies?” Sam leaned closer to the box.
Not answering, Gladys pulled out a jug of liquid and handed it to me.
Squinting at the label in the low light, I read the words aloud. “Tiki fuel?”
Gladys merely continued unpacking the box. Two large lanterns came out next. Three candles. A box of matches. A small radio. Baggy full of batteries, all shapes and sizes. A deck of cards. A Swiss Army knife. An odd little can covered in duct-tape and marked cooking.
So interested in what Gladys had brought, neither Sam or I remembered to ask her where she had been for the last two days. The more important question seemed to be where all of this stuff came from.
“Where did you get all of this?”
“What are these?” Sam held up the lanterns she had been handed.
“Kerosene lamps. This is my Dark or Disaster Emergency Box.” Gladys surveyed the mound of supplies on the table and the floor with pride. “You girls should really think about having one. Let’s light the lamps first.” Gladys took one of the lamps from Sam and took it to the counter.
“You just keep this box of stuff ready all the time?” Sam looked again at the various items, putting down the second lamp and holding up the bag of batteries for inspection.
“You bet. I learned the hard way though.” Gladys reached for the jug in my arms. I handed her the tiki fuel. “Must have been about forty-three years ago. Snowstorm hit Texas and dropped more than ten inches of snow in places. We only got five or six inches where I lived but that didn’t matter. For Texas, an inch of snow may as well be a blizzard.”
“I didn’t know you were from Texas.” Sam put the batteries down and came back to the counter.
Carefully, Gladys poured oil into the base of the lamp through a small hole. A little splashed onto the counter. “Most of my life. Anyway, that snow wreaked havoc. Between increased car wrecks from people who couldn’t drive in a little bit of white, to overwhelming the power grids as everybody cranked the heat up to the eighties, there was a blackout that lasted three days. Can you bring me the matches?”
After several strikes, it became clear the soggy matches weren’t going to light the wick.
Slipping into the kitchen, I grabbed the lighter I used on the candles earlier. “Here, let me.” I pushed the button and flame shot out. I held it over the wick until the little white fibers caught.
“Harold and I, we found ways to stay warm.” She chuckled. “Lucked out and had enough jerky in the house to last us for food. The well out back was good enough for drinking water. After power came back on, we went to the store for supplies and I’ve kept the habit.”
Gladys placed the glass tube back on top of the wick. “You can control the flame by turning this.” She demonstrated turning the little dial knob.
Sam gasped and grabbed Gladys’s hand.
I looked at her, puzzled. The flame hadn’t gotten very big; she couldn’t be alarmed by it, surely? But Sam’s eyes weren’t on the flame or the lamp at all. She held Gladys’s hand into the light staring at it. Or, more specifically, at the large diamond ring, flame twinkling brilliantly off of it, on a very important finger.
CHAPTER 16
“Is that what I think it is?” I reached over and pulled the ring-studded hand toward me.
“Hey now! This isn’t tug o’ war.” Gladys slipped her hand away from Sam and I.
“Spill it.” Sam crossed her arms.
“Frédéric and I eloped.” She said it nonchalantly.
My eyes widened and bulged in shock; I probably looked like one of those big-eyed stuffed animals. We waited.
“Don’t look at me like that. I planned to announce it to everyone at once later today.” She moved back to the supplies and began gathering up more things.
“No, no, no. We are not done discussing this.” I stepped in front of her.
“What’s to discuss?”
Sam gawked. “How about the fact that we don’t even know your new last name?”
“I kept my own last name. Frédéric and I agreed it would be easier than changing mounds of paperwork to change from Gladys Hall to Gladys Duval.”
“Then the flowers you received…?”
She nodded. “The flowers were a proposal. The card simply said ‘marry me?’”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Congratulations.” Sam hugged her.
“Yes, we’re very happy for you.” I hugged Gladys in turn then we busied ourselves getting the rest of the bakery as well-lit as possible. Sam found some window markers and wrote cutesy messages like ‘come cozy up to a cookie’ and ‘seeking shelter, come on in’ on the front windows in giant letters.
I didn’t bring up Gladys’s elopement again. She seemed happy and that should be good enough for me. Still, I would have felt better about it if Sam and I had spent any time around Frédéric. Gotten to know him outside of his Chef Fabio persona, perhaps.
My phone dinged. A text from Victoria.
Victoria: Almost to the bakery.
Me: Okay. I’ll unlock the back door. Be careful.
Victoria: K, thanks.
“Victoria and Millie are almost here.” I glanced up at Gladys and Sam “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Not five minutes later, I opened the back door to the two drenched girls. Watching a monster-truck worthy maroon vehicle drive away, I raised my eyebrows. “Nice ride.”
“Thanks. It used to be my uncle’s truck.” Victoria hung her dripping raincoat on a peg. Millie did the same. “My aunt doesn’t like to drive it much but she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of it when he passed away.”
“That would be hard.”
Victoria shrugged. “It definitely came in handy today. Who knows, maybe she’ll let me buy it from her eventually.”
“You’re going to have to save up a lot longer than it took us to get scooters.” Millie looked around. “No power here either?”
“Nope.”
“Us neither.” Victoria shook her head. “And I don’t know when the road will drain. There’s nowhere for the water to go and the rain isn’t slacking.”
“It’s a mess.” I pointed to the sopping wet floor by the door. “And it’s making a mess, too. Since we can’t bake without the power, would you two mind mopping and seeing what you can find in the storage closet to keep people from slipping on wet tile when they come in the door to the café?”
“Sure thing!” Millie’s blonde ponytail bobbed less enthusiastically than normal, stuck together in a tangle of wet hair. She took off to find the mop.
Victoria rummaged around and soon had two oversized turquoise kitchen towels spread out on the clean dry floor in front of both the café and kitchen doors.
Sam joined me in the kitchen. “I got a call from Landon.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. He and Pastor Dan and some other church members are setting up a temporary shelter at the church for anyone with severe storm damages. Landon called because they thought if we had any of the day-old cookies or pastries, we might sell them at a discount to the church to set out for snacks. Some of the women are making sandwiches for lunch to give out.”
“Have we had very many customers today?”
“About half our usual amount. Still, considering the weather that isn’t bad at all.”
“You’re right. It sounds like we can well afford to get rid of some of the goodies though. I’d rather donate them to help people than for any to go to waste. Te
xt Landon that he can come pick them up.”
Sam pulled her phone out.
“And please ask him to let Pastor Dan know these are a donation. He doesn’t need to worry about paying for them.”
“Will do and I completely agree.”
Half an hour later, Landon came inside. The bell over the door announced his arrival. Gladys and I were at the counter.
“Do you have some cookies ready for me?”
“They’re in the back. Go on through. Sam should be done boxing them up by now.”
“Thanks.” He nudged my shoulder as he passed and smiled at Gladys.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have eloped.”
My mouth dropped. I turned to Gladys, shocked at the out-of-the-blue statement. “What?”
“I’m just thinking out loud. If we had done a ceremony, at least I would have gotten to throw a bouquet.” A sly grin slid over her face. “Then we would have at least known if you or Sam were going to be the next to get hitched.”
CHAPTER 17
“See you later.” I waved. Sam had decided to go with Landon to help set up the food and serve.
“My money is still on you and Griff, no matter how much time Sam spends with that boy.” Gladys waggled her eyebrows at me.
“You’re impossible. Nobody else is getting married right now.”
She only smiled bigger. “I’ll remember you said that.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled under my breath. Louder, I told her the new plans. “I’m going to the local news station to give them an announcement that needs to be posted to let people know food and shelter are set up at Sandy Shores Evangelical Church.” I waved the printout that Landon had given me from Pastor Dan. “Millie can help you up front since there isn’t much to be done in the kitchen with no ovens going.”
“You best be careful out there. Those flooded roads are no joke.”
“I will. I promise.”
Walking through the kitchen when there is no electricity, I decided, is depressing. There were no fresh cookies waiting to be tested, no heady aromas of chocolatey goodness to inhale. I certainly hoped the power came back on soon. If we couldn’t bake again soon, the Ooey Gooey Goodness Bakery might become the Boo Hooey Sadness Closed Bakery.
Ooey Gooey Bakery Mystery Box Set Page 55
