Lemon's Sorbet Disaster: An Ice Cream Shop Series Novella

by E. H. Demeter

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Also by E.H. Demeter

  Secrets: Book One of the Rune Trilogy

  Musings from Wonderland: A book of Poetry and Prose

  Second Chance: A Haven Novel

  Anthologies

  Cancer Sucks!

  Nightmares: In Writer’s Retreat

  Hugs & Kisses: A Writer’s Retreat Romance Anthology

  Nightmares in Writer’s Retreat: The Nightmare Continues

  Kissing Midnight: A Crazy Ink New Year’s Romance Anthology

  Just Love: A Crazy Ink Anthology

  Inside: A Crazy Ink Anthology

  Royal Scoundrels: Malice

  Lemon’s Sorbet Disaster

  A Haven novel

  COPYRIGHT ©E.H. Demeter.

  All rights reserved.

  Cover and interior design by The Dust Jacket Designs

  https://thedustjacketdesigns.weebly.com/

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  I groaned as the bus bumped over yet another pothole, jarring me in my seat and causing me to grit my teeth for the four hundred and thirty-second time. Blowing out a breath, I tapped in the code on my phone, only to groan once more as I realized I had no signal. Dropping the phone into my bag in disgust, I looked out the window, crossing my arms over my chest. I felt like I had been on this bus forever, but at least it had air conditioning. I did not want to think about what it would smell like in here without it.

  Turning away from the landscape speeding past, I reached into my purse for my phone and headphones, plugging them in and pulling up a playlist. About halfway through my playlist, I realized I’d regained signal and I had a text from my mother.

  Mom: How far are you? I’m glad you’re doing this.

  I bypassed the text message, closing my eyes and falling back into my playlist. I was glad, in a way, that she was proud of me. But truth be told, it would have been so much easier to just have settled all of this at probate.

  I hadn’t been that close to my great uncle. In fact, I only had a handful of memories of him scattered throughout my life. We had written letters though.

  When I was in elementary school, I’d had an assignment to write to a pen pal for a month. Being painfully shy, the thought of writing to a stranger had left me terrified. I had begged my mother to be my penal, but she’d sworn the teacher would recognize her handwriting. That’s when she had suggested her Uncle Beauregard.

  Being that I had only met him a few times before, I was still terrified. But I wrote to him. And he answered back. It was only supposed to be for a month, but we had kept up correspondence until he’d died. Though I had been slacking in my responses to him of late. Things had been insanely busy at work, and I’d been finding less and less time to answer him. I hadn’t even known he was sick. I supposed he hadn’t wanted to burden me with it, always keeping his letters light and positive.

  Still, when the lawyer had called us in for the reading of the will, I was shocked when he announced that Uncle Beau had left property to me. I’d wanted to sell it, sight unseen. Just sell it and move on with my life. Then my mother had brought up the letters, and all the times Beau had mentioned me coming to visit him in his small, country town. Something I had never quite found the time to do as an adult.

  She used that against me. Guilting me hard all while telling me that having the property could be beneficial to me. Depending on the condition it was in, I could always rent it out. And living in D.C. wasn’t cheap; a secondary source of income would be nice to have.

  But the worst part was, in order to gain the property, Beau had requested that I spend a year in his town. A year in the country wasn’t my idea of a fun vacation, and yet here I was, on a bus to Haven, South Carolina. I didn’t hate the name of it, but I wasn’t entirely sure what I was about to walk into.

  At least I didn’t have to worry about getting a whole year off work. Being my own boss had its perks. I worked from home as a freelance editor and web designer. As long as I could connect to the internet, I was pretty much free to work wherever I wanted. Which was a huge burden off my shoulders, and it meant I wouldn’t have to look for a job while in town.

  Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back and let myself zone out to the music. I’d wanted to fly, but my mother had insisted that taking a bus was the best way to see the scenery. I didn’t want to argue against her fear of flying, so I’d agreed. I suppose I could have lied and flown anyway, but that thought had left a bad taste in my mouth. So, I’d hopped onto my computer, bought a bus ticket, and then set to packing. Not having been to South Carolina since I was a child, I hadn’t been sure what to bring. So, I’d played it safe and packed a little bit of everything. Though I was doubting I would need the heavy jacket as it was currently summer, and I didn’t think it would get too cold in the wintertime. Still, it was responsible to be prepared.

  My phone buzzed against my thigh, and I cracked an eye open to see a couple more text messages flash on the screen.

  Dad: Answer your mother.

  Dad: She’s driving me crazy.

  With a smirk, I lifted my phone, opening the text message to respond. Before I could begin to type, another message popped up that had me laughing.

  Dad: She says if you don’t answer soon, she’ll make me track your phone. Don’t make me do it kiddo

  Shaking my head, I quickly typed up a response and sent it to my mom, then typed three letters to my dad: ILY

  Where was I? Pulling up my GPS, I typed in the name of the town and waited. 36 minutes remaining. That wasn’t too bad. I tried to convince myself that it would go by fast. That before I knew it, I would be off this godforsaken bus and settling into the local Bed and Breakfast.

  I had been a little shocked that the only offerings were the Bed and Breakfast or a motel by the interstate. I guess living in a metropolis had spoiled me in more than one respect. Shifting in my seat, I blew out a breath, rolling my shoulders I groaned. Only three minutes had passed.

  This was ridiculous. The drive wasn’t going to go any faster while I stared at the clock. Instead, I pulled up a streaming service, and settled on a show to watch.

  With ten minutes left in my episode, the bus began to slow, rumbling as it turned into the depot. I chuckled, switching everything off and wishing I’d kissed my data plan goodbye earlier in the trip.

  Not surprisingly, there weren’t that many people on the bus, so it didn’t take long to disembark. I winced as tingles shot up and down my legs, and I hoped the Red Bird Inn was close enough to walk to. After sitting for so long, my backside was good and numb.

  I gasped audibly as my glasses fogged up completely the moment I stepped off the bus. It was like I’d been slapped with a wet blanket. Cursing the humid air, I moved out of the way, trying my best to clear my glasses and
ignoring the chuckles of those around me.

  “City gal,” I heard someone mutter, though I was determined not to let it bother me. I was a ‘city gal.’ I didn’t have a reason to deny it.

  Moving to the side of the bus, I cleared my throat to get the attention of the attendant pulling the luggage from the bus.

  “Um, excuse me. Lemon Wilder, two bags?” I rose on my tip toes, peering over the broad expanse of his shoulders as I tried to identify my bags.

  “Wilder?” he cried, whirling around on me so fast we all but collided. A nervous laugh broke past my lips as my hand flew to my chest.

  “Y-Yes. Wilder, Lemon Wilder. I have two bags, please.” I chewed my lower lip as the man turned his back on me, sweat already discoloring the dark blue shirt he wore.

  “Here ya go.” He grunted as he lifted my bags, dropping them down in front of me. “You gonna be able to heft those bags, darlin’?”

  I smiled as his eyes rolled over me, taking in my slight frame. “Oh, don’t worry.” I leaned forward, grabbing the handles and pulling them up. “They roll.” I winked.

  His deep chuckle had my smile widening as I bid him farewell. After a quick stop by the office, I determined that, while it would be a bit of a hike, I could feasibly walk to the bed and breakfast. It would most likely be my exercise for the week, but after sitting for so long, I felt the walk would do me good.

  I wasn’t anticipating the heat and the humidity, however. After about ten minutes, I was sweating like a sinner in church, feeling like I was carrying the sun on the back of my shoulders. I would have sold my soul to the Devil for a cold glass of water. With lemon.

  Licking my chapped lips, I pulled up my phone to check how much farther the walk would be, only to find a black screen.

  “Dang it!” My chronic GPS checking and video streaming had killed my battery. Sighing heavily, I swung my purse around, burying my head in it as I searched for my portable battery charger. Which had apparently chosen this exact moment to disappear into the nether.

  “Great, this is just great. My first hour in this town, and I’m going to die walking to the Red Bird Inn,” I grumbled, slinging my bag over my shoulder. With little choice, I gripped the handles of my bags and started down the road again. Why I had expected sidewalks, I wasn’t sure, but I was certainly cursing the lack of them as my bags bumped and jerked over the rough edges of the road.

  After another ten minutes, I was two seconds away from a full-blown temper tantrum when I heard a loud ticking behind me. Turning, I watched as an old blue Honda pulled up beside me. The car had definitely seen better days, but the woman driving it had a friendly, if cautious, smile on her face.

  “Hey there, you okay?”

  Biting my tongue to hold back my first response, I let go a heavy sigh and shook my head. “Not even a little bit.”

  “Did your car break down?” she asked, leaning out of the window and looking back the way she’d come, as if she were afraid she’d missed it.

  “No, no. I thought I could walk...” I chuckled, drawing a hand over my face in embarrassment. “I thought there would be sidewalks...”

  “In those shoes?” The woman chuckled, shaking her head as she looked at my kitten heel booties. “Well, come on, it’s hotter than blue blazes out there.” I stared at her, my mind refusing to comprehend what she was saying. I jumped when she laughed and waved her hand at me. “Come on, get in! I’m melting just sitting here!”

  Hefting my bags, I smiled in gratitude as she stepped out and opened her back door, even assisting me in getting the bags inside.

  “Thank you so much,” I started, losing my words as she waved me off.

  “Don’t worry about it. Where are you heading? I’m Daisy, by the way.”

  “Oh, umm, the Bed and Breakfast. And thank you, again, Daisy. I’m Lemon.”

  “Lemon? Like the fruit?” She smiled as she pulled away from the curb, the ticking sound resuming.

  “Um, yeah, exactly. I’m sorry, but is it supposed to make that sound?” I shifted in my seat, my throat tightening, certain we were about to blow up.

  Daisy let go a laugh, shaking her head. “No, but it’s okay. It’s just the muffler. Sometimes it jostles loose and sorta… bumps against the car a bit.”

  “Oh… I see.” I didn’t. Not even a little bit. I didn't own a car. I didn’t really need one. If I needed to go somewhere, there were city buses or cabs. Uber had saved my life more than once. Oh, crap. Do they have Uber here? I hadn’t thought to check.

  For an old car, despite the almost constant ticking, the ride was cool and smooth. Angling the vent directly at my face, I closed my eyes and allowed the cold air to wash over me. I would never take AC for granted again. I thought I heard Daisy chuckle, but I kept quiet as she smoothly turned off the road and up into a circular driveway.

  The large white house was more than impressive as we crested the top of the drive, Daisy pulling up before the front door. Country charm was the only thing I could think of as I stepped out of the car and looked up. The porch was wide and welcoming, tall round pillars leading the eye upward toward the roof and the bluest sky I’d seen in a while.

  Blinking against the sun, I lowered my hand and let go a low whistle. “I wasn’t expecting a place like this in the middle of nowhere.”

  Daisy popped her head up on the other side of the car, her smile wide. “Oh, yeah. Most folk don’t. The Red Bird Inn is kind of like, Haven’s little secret, you know?”

  I nodded as I moved around the car, surprised to see her pulling my bag from the back. “Oh, no, you don’t have to--”

  “It’s okay, I got it. I’ll see you in, but then I’ve gotta go. My shift starts soon. Betty’ll be on my butt if I’m late.”

  Before I could answer, the door opened and an older gentleman came bounding down the stairs, surprisingly spy for a man of his years.

  “Daisy! You put that down right now, young lady. That’s my job and you know it!”

  I stared as Daisy sat my suitcase down, lifting her hands and backing away from it. “Whatever you say, Professor Fitzgerald.”

  The older man winked at her, bending at the waist and grabbing the handle of my suitcase. “It’s Thomas, and you know it.”

  A woman with short, greying hair came out of the Inn, a warm smile on her face. “Good afternoon. Welcome to the Red Bird Inn. You must be Miss Wilder.”

  I nodded, extending my hand to shake hers and blinking when she took mine and pulled me into a brief hug. “Oh, uh… Yes. Please, call me Lemon. You must be Mrs. Fitzgerald?”

  “Yes. I’m Carol Harmon-Fitzgerald. We spoke on the phone. Come on, let’s get you in and settled.”

  I turned, offering a grateful smile to Daisy. “Thank you again, for the ride.”

  “No worries! Come see me at Betty Anne’s some time!” And with a wave, she slid into her car and was off.

  I turned, jumping as I found the Fitzgeralds staring at me. “Uh, my room then?”

  Thomas beamed and Carol chuckled as they led me inside. The entranceway was large, with warm wood covering the floor. The walls were half wood panels, half linen wallpaper, the paper fresh and new. A large wooden desk took up half the room, a computer sitting on it. Plush armchairs rested opposite the desk, a small bookshelf between them, with a matching wood coffee table ready to catch books or an errant tea cup. I followed the couple as they led me through the main room, toward the wide staircase that led to the second floor.

  “We’ve just finished renovating the whole place,” Carol explained, her voice soft, touched with the sweetest drawl. “All the rooms have new furniture and new linens. Oh! And all new plumbing, so you won’t have to worry about water pressure.”

  Thomas chuckled and flashed Carol a grin. I had to bite my tongue to stop from asking what the joke was.

  “Great water pressure is a good selling point,” I muttered. The top floor was just as beautifully decorated as the lower level and boasted what appeared to be four rooms. Mine was room numb
er 2.

  “Here you are, dear. There’s a phone in the room you can use. If you need anything, just dial zero, and it’ll call down to the front desk,” Carol said, beaming a smile as she unlocked my door, then dropped the key in my palm.

  “Do you need help with your luggage?” Thomas asked.

  “No, I’ve got it from here. Thank you so much.” I took the bags from him with a smile, then stepped into the room, offering a sketchy wave before closing the door. Sighing, I leaned my back against the wood, letting my head hit it with a thump. Was everyone in this town going to be so friendly? If so, I would need to prepare. With booze.

  Opening my eyes, I looked around the room. Like the rest of the place, it was beautifully decorated with a soft country flair. It looked like something out of Better Homes and Gardens. The queen-sized bed was covered by an ivory quilt with blue stitching. The four-poster bed frame was a soft, knotty pine, and identical end tables sat either side of the bed. A matching wooden dresser stood to the left of the window, waiting to be filled. After a quick inspection, I found a small, but nice bathroom to the left as well. Sighing in relief, I stripped off my sweaty clothes, entered the shower, and turned the water on high.

  Carol hadn’t been lying, the water pressure was strong and full when I stepped into the stream. Turning my back to the spray, I once again closed my eyes and let the water soothe my aching muscles. I’d been so caught up in the planning and travel that I’d neglected to think about my plans once I’d arrived in Haven. I would need to get a car, as I was beginning to doubt they had Uber here. Tilting my head under the spray, I washed my hair and body before reluctantly turning off the taps. Wrapping towels around myself and my hair, I padded back into the room and dropped down onto the bed, fishing my phone out of my purse.

  TO MOM: Arrived at BnB, safe and sound.

  I had barely sent the message before three dots flashed on the screen and my mother’s message popped up.