“Oh, well, yeah, that makes sense,” she said, suddenly becoming very busy, looking everywhere but me. She pawed through her purse, pulling out a cell phone. “Oh, look at that. I have to go.” She put the brightly colored matte boards on top of a display of clearance items. “I’ll have to come back and get those. See you around.”
Keeping her head down, she turned and hurried out the door, but not before I saw the sheen of tears glistening in her rapidly blinking eyes.
Great. Now I felt like a jerk.
Clearly, she still had feelings for Daniel. But that didn’t mean he returned those feelings, I told myself as I took a moment to make sure I had collected everything. What I was really doing was giving Gwyn time to leave without running into me again.
Even if I were to move, it didn’t mean he would get back together with her.
Right?
Sighing to myself, I readjusted my hold on my purchases and headed out the door, hoping I had stalled long enough.
I kept my eyes focused on my car as I walked across the parking lot, just in case Gwyn was still there. I didn’t want to accidentally catch her eye.
But something dark and fluttering caught my eye from the side. A shadow vanished behind a dark-blue pickup truck.
“Becca.”
I ignored the voice from behind me and kept walking. After the encounter with Gwyn, I wasn’t up for a repeat confrontation. Plus, there was something about the shadow that bothered me.
“Becca, wait.”
I stared at the truck. Something about what was happening reminded me of what I had seen earlier that morning from my kitchen window. That shadow.
But why? It couldn’t possibly be the same shadow, right? And where did it go? Should I walk over and check it out? No, it was probably nothing. I was just on edge after not getting enough sleep.
I was almost at my car, which meant I needed my keys, so I started fumbling around, trying to pull them out without dropping my packages.
“It’s not your fault,” the voice said, a little out of breath, to my back. I turned around.
I didn’t recognize her. She was older than me, maybe early forties, although the exhaustion in her eyes might have made her look older than she actually was. Her black hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail, and she wore black-framed glasses. An infant strapped to her front sucked on his fist and stared at me with huge eyes, and a small, blonde child trailed at her feet. She had the tired, haggard appearance of an overwhelmed mom.
I took one last quick peek at the truck before focusing my attention on her. “I’m sorry?”
“What happened between Gwyn and Daniel,” she said. “It wasn’t your fault. Anyone with eyes could tell he wasn’t that into her. You probably did her a favor.”
I gave her a tiny smile, wondering how much she had heard of our conversation. “Thanks.”
She shrugged and smiled back. “It’s the truth.” She thrust her hand out. “I’m Jackie. You don’t know me, but I knew your aunt well. She helped me. A lot.”
Ah, another one of Aunt Charlie’s tea customers. I shook her hand. “Becca. Well, you already know that.”
“Yeah.” She glanced down to hush the child, a little girl in a dark-green dress covered with daisies, who had started pulling at her shorts. “Yes, we’re going back in. Mommy needs a few more minutes. Look,” she lifted her head to address me. “I wasn’t trying to overhear, but did you say you were staying in town?”
I nodded. “That’s the plan right now.”
“Oh, thank God,” she said, looking relieved. “I hope that means you’re starting up your aunt’s healing business.”
I blinked. Was this a joke? It seemed too good to be true. “Well, uh, actually, yes. I was thinking about starting it up again.”
“Really?” She clapped her hands together. “Oh, that’s wonderful news.” Her smile was wide and delighted, and in that moment, the exhaustion melted off her, and I realized how pretty she was. “I can’t wait to share the news. Your aunt did a lot of good in this town. Here. Hold on a second.”
The infant, picking up on her energy, started clapping his hands as she dug around in her massive purse. “Mommy needs one more second,” she said to the fidgety little girl, who was now twisting and twirling a green stone that hung around her neck. “Don’t break your necklace,” Jackie said absently, her attention on her purse.
“Ah ha,” she said triumphantly, pulling out a stained envelope and a pen and writing something on the back of it. “Here,” she said, handing it to me. “My email. Would love to stay in touch. And, once you’re up and running, I would love more of the blend Charlie made for me.”
I took the envelope, feeling a little like I was in a dream. “Of course. Here, if you give me a second, I can give you my email, too.”
She waved her hand as she started backing away, the small child now officially whining. “Maggie, stop that. We’re going. No, that’s fine, just email me when you can with your contact info. I’ll talk to you later.” She turned to head into the store, speaking quietly to her daughter.
I tucked the envelope into my pocket and excitedly went back to loading packages in my car. I couldn’t wait to tell someone. My first customer! But, wait, wasn’t I also forgetting something? What was I doing before Jackie appeared?
Oh, that’s right. The truck!
I whirled around, but the space was empty.
How could that have happened?
I frantically scanned the entire parking lot, but there were no pickup trucks anywhere.
Where did it go? It couldn’t have just disappeared. I was sure I would have noticed if it had drove away.
Wouldn’t I?
***
I found Mia in the kitchen. She was standing by the counter, simultaneously chewing, scrolling through her phone, and muttering. A half-eaten sandwich and cup of coffee lay next to her on the counter.
That part wasn’t surprising, but what caused me to do a double take was her outfit. She wore a simple black dress with a boat neckline and a single strand of pearls, instead of her typical waitress “uniform,” consisting of jeans and a plain white tee shirt. I tried to remember if I had ever seen Mia in a dress. She was even wearing lipstick, as evidenced by the red smear on her coffee cup.
“I thought you were working the late shift?”
She glanced up at me. “I am, after Jessica’s memorial. Did you forget? Is that why you aren’t ready?”
Oh crap. I had forgotten. I went over to dump my purchases on the kitchen table. Time was up. I had to decide if I was going.
Even though part of me shied away from any possibility of causing a scene, a bigger part of me realized Mia was right about hiding out. If I was going to make Redemption my home, it was time for me to become part of the community. I could stand in the back and make myself as inconspicuous as possible, but I needed to be there. “How much time do I have?”
“Time enough for a sandwich if you want one,” Mia said, taking another bite. “There’s more chicken salad in the fridge. Oh my God, Chrissy is a genius in the kitchen. I don’t know how she does it.”
I headed to the fridge to quickly assemble my own sandwich as Mia went back to frowning at her phone.
“What’s up?”
Mia glanced up. “What do you mean?”
I nodded at her phone. “Any news?”
“Oh, that.” She sighed. “Nothing really. I think you remember my friend Leslie, right? She’s having marital problems again.”
“So, nothing new on Ellen or anything like that.”
“Unfortunately, no. But it’s only been what? A little over 24 hours? When Ellen disappeared before, she was gone for almost a week. I don’t know if anyone is all that concerned right now. Well,” Mia amended. “Maybe her mother. But mothers are supposed to worry.”
Despite having never liked E
llen (and trust me, the feeling was mutual), I was starting to get a bad feeling about her being missing. Something just didn’t seem right. On the other hand, what did I know? I barely knew the woman, and if people who had known her for years weren’t worried, why was I?
Mia took a break from her phone to stretch and shift her legs. “So, you’re really doing it.”
I glanced at her over the head of lettuce. “Doing what?”
She nodded toward my new art supplies piled on the table, still wrapped in their bags. “Getting back into painting.”
Getting back into painting. I let Mia’s words sink into me and roll around a bit, examining how they felt. Right now, what I mostly felt was a bundle of nerves. Was I good enough? Was this whole thing a waste of my time?
But, underneath all of that, I felt the faint buzz of excitement. And hope.
Maybe this is what I had been looking for all along.
I turned back to Mia, who was watching me with a small smile and a drop of mayo on her chin. Her smile broadened. “Feels pretty good, doesn’t it?”
I grinned. “Yeah, it does.”
She held her hand up like she was giving me a high five. “About time, for both of us.”
“That’s for sure.” I pulled the bread out of the toaster oven, trying not to burn the tips of my fingers. “Oh, I met someone today. Jackie. Do you know her?”
“Jackie Campbell?”
I scooped chicken salad onto the bread. “I’m not sure, actually. She had a baby and a little girl. Maggie, I think?”
Mia nodded. “Yep, that’s Jackie. What did she want?”
I brought my sandwich to the table. Unlike Mia, who didn’t mind standing to eat, I liked to sit down. “To buy some tea, actually. She was hoping I would start up Aunt Charlie’s business.”
Mia’s eyes widened and she let out a whoop. “Really? Yes!” She fist pumped with the hand holding the sandwich, dripping chicken salad on her head. “Oh crap. What a mess. But, anyway. See, I told you people wanted the healing business back.”
I smiled as I watched Mia struggle to clean her hair. “You did. Oh, I also ran into Gwyn.”
Mia stopped rubbing her head with a paper towel. “Gwyn was never a customer of Charlie’s, so I wouldn’t worry too much about her.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not the point. It was clear she thought I was selling the house and moving, and was surprised I would stay. What if there are more people who feel that way?” I slumped down at the table.
Mia frowned at the paper towel. “Did I get it all? Okay, so first off, I think it’s pretty obvious why Gwyn doesn’t want you here, so regardless of how ‘surprised’ she is that you’re staying,” Mia did air quotes around the word “surprised,” “she’s not a good gauge of what people in this town want or don’t want. But, regardless of her, you don’t have to limit yourself to the local market.”
I gave her a puzzled look. “What, like go into Milwaukee or Madison? I don’t have any contacts there.”
Mia shook her head. “No, silly. I’m talking about the Internet. You could start an online business selling teas and tinctures. You could also sell your art online. There’s a big market for royalty-free art. Plus, you could turn your paintings into things like notecards and sell those online too.”
I blinked. “Seriously? You think I could do that?”
Now it was Mia’s turn to roll her eyes. “Well, duh. How else were you going to sell stuff?”
“I guess with the herbs, I was just going to pick up where Aunt Charlie left off. As for my art, I thought I’d find a gallery and let them sell it for me.”
“A gallery? Are you kidding me? Do those even still exist?”
“They do in New York.”
“Newsflash, you’re not in New York.” Mia took a drink of coffee, still shaking her head. “I think it makes far more sense to set up your own online retailers. There’re all sorts of things you could do. Amazon. Etsy. Stock photo sites. As for Aunt Charlie, everyone told her she should sell things online too, but she refused. Said she was too old. But you don’t have that excuse.”
I made a face. “Ha, ha. I’m not even sure where to start.”
Mia stuffed the last bite of sandwich into her mouth. “How about researching how to start an online business on the Internet?”
I pondered that. An online business. Could I really do it? Was I actually talented enough to sell my art online? Could I be as good as my aunt, and sell teas and tinctures online too?
Mia took a final swallow of coffee and glanced at her phone. “Oops, I lost track of time. You better hurry.”
I took a final swallow of my sandwich and headed up to get ready.
Chapter 5
The church reeked of flowers and way too much perfume.
The flowers were everywhere—in the aisle, the lobby, practically dripping off the stage. I had never seen so many flowers in a church before, most of them white and in huge arrangements.
The people were everywhere, too. It was standing room only, which suited me just fine. I ended up wedged in a corner, with a heavy-set woman wearing a dark-purple hat in front of me and a family with two young kids next to me. One of the boys kept pulling on the collar of his button-up shirt as his mother pushed his hands away and shushed him.
Someone had saved Mia a seat in one of the pews. She wanted me to go with her, thinking they would make room for both of us, but I waved her ahead. I was there. That was enough.
Chrissy was sitting off to the side in a group of other teenagers.
Along with the flowers were two huge portraits. One was obviously Jessica, and my heart caught in my throat when I saw it. She was sitting in the grass and sun, one knee up, the other folded underneath her, a total Jessica pose. Her head was tilted to the side, and she was laughing.
She looked so happy, so alive in it. It was probably a candid shot, but however it happened, it was amazing. It totally captured Jessica’s beauty and her essence.
I had never seen the other photo before. It was of a man, maybe a few years older than Jessica, but he could have been her twin. He had the same thick, blonde hair and sapphire-blue eyes, and his smile was exactly like hers. He was leaning against the side of a cherry-red car.
With a start, I realized he must be Jesse, Jessica’s uncle, the one Jessica was named after. Louise, Jesse’s sister and Jessica’s mother, had had a huge fight with him right before he left. She had never forgiven herself for the fight, even naming her second daughter after him as some sort of penance.
Then, her second daughter also disappeared without a trace, once again after a big fight. No wonder Louise was so bitter.
It was a long service. After thanking everyone for coming and offering a few short opening remarks, the priest turned the floor over to anyone who wanted to say a few words about Jessica. Many, many people spoke. Some of the stories were funny, some were sad, but all captured a piece of her. A tiny snapshot of her life.
Mia shared how they had first become friends. She was a terrified eight-year-old, so shy she could never look people in the face, much less talk to them. Jessica had simply plunked herself down next to Mia at lunch one day, uninvited, and proceeded to spend the entire period chattering at her. Jessica shared her Oreos with Mia, and they were friends ever since.
Daphne talked about the night Jessica wanted to give her a makeover despite Daphne’s protests. There was a scissor and tweezers involved, and the end result was apparently dreadful. It took weeks to repair the damage. “Thank God there was no Instagram back then,” she said, smiling through tears.
Barry shared how, when Jessica showed up, it didn’t seem to matter what everyone else in the group wanted to do. They somehow always ended up doing whatever Jessica wanted. Probably because everyone had a natural instinct to please her … to see her happy.
Daniel remembered her kindness. Growing up
poor with a single mother who worked all the time and still could barely keep her growing boy fully fed, Jessica would regularly give him her lunch. When he asked, she would toss her long, blonde hair back and casually say something like, “You know I’m going to be a model. I can’t be eating all those calories.” Years later, he found out she had asked her mother to pack her two sandwiches, so she could give him one.
As I listened to each story, I realized how much Jessica was missed. And how much her life had mattered.
At the end of the day, isn’t that what we all long for? A room full of people swapping stories that celebrate our lives?
The last person to step up was Louise, Jessica’s mother. Even though everyone in the church seemed to be openly crying, Louise’s face was oddly dry.
“Thank you all,” she said, her voice clear and strong. It rang through the church, quieting the murmuring and shuffling. Something seemed off, and it took me a few minutes to realize that she seemed devoid of any emotion.
“I loved hearing your stories about my darling Jessica, a beautiful, amazing, talented girl who was taken from us way too soon.” She paused, and I shifted uncomfortably. I was beginning to get a bad feeling.
“Both she and my brother Jesse were too young to be taken from us,” she continued. “Nobody, and I mean nobody, should ever have to deal with the pain I’ve had to endure.” She looked around the crowd, her eyes narrow, her stare hard. An older man with a pained look on his face, her husband I guessed, stepped up to her and put a hand on her arm, but she shrugged him off. “Today is a celebration of their lives, and I do celebrate them. BUT that doesn’t mean I forget that they are no longer with us. That doesn’t mean I forget that they were taken from us.”
Her husband tried again to intercede, but she walked away from him. “Yes, I said it. Taken. They WERE taken. Just like my darling Brittany, who but for the Grace of God, was almost taken, too. Just like the others. Like Jonathan, Jesse’s best friend. He had a son, an infant daughter, a wife. But none of that matters, right? He was taken, too. And his family’s lives were destroyed, too. Just. Like. Mine.”
The Evil That Was Done (Secrets of Redemption Book 3) Page 5
