Not only can I not tell him never to see her again, but I can never tell him how I feel about him seeing her. That would be selfish and unfounded. I have no reason to suspect him of anything, and I don’t even know her. He sees her as a necessary adjunct to developing a relationship with his daughter—nothing more.
I’m sure she feels the same way about him. Why on Earth would she want to get involved with him? For one thing, she’s married. I’ve never met her husband. I’ve never even seen him, but David has. Pauline and her husband raised Ariel. Their interest in David is strictly parental. Pauline comes to West End to ensure her daughter is taken care of.
Still, that deep-seated resentment against the Other Woman in David’s life won’t quit nagging me. I avoid Pauline like the plague. I only ever see Ariel when Pauline’s not around. Even David keeps us separate.
Could he be doing that out of some dormant sense of guilt for keeping Pauline a secret from me when he did? Could he be hiding something else I might object to?
I get to the end of the eaves and pound in the last nail. When I get down from the ladder, I storm over to the garland. I yank it around harder than I should. I vent my spleen against it. How did I get so angry all of a sudden?
I hang the garland on the nails and stand back to check my work when a door bangs to my right. I look over to see Sabrina Harris come out of her bakery. She adjusts the position of her folding sign on the sidewalk. Then she approaches her front window and starts measuring it with a measuring tape.
I hail her. “Hello, Sabrina. Did you hear about the Winter Carnival? That sounds like a lot of fun. Stacy and Simone talked to me earlier today about getting Zack to design a flyer to advertise it. Are you helping organize, too?”
Her head whips around and she glares at me for a second. Then she turns away and barges into her bakery without answering. I frown after her. That’s not like her.
A few seconds later, she reemerges with a long ruler and a grease pencil. She starts measuring, marking, and ruling lines on her front window. I stand and consider. Should I try again to talk to her? Is she mad at me about something?
She slaves away for a few more minutes before I make up my mind. This is my neighbor and my friend. We’ve been through a lot together, Sabrina and me. We’ve worked together on community projects before. If something is bothering her, I need to know about it.
I cross to stand next to her, but she still doesn’t look at me. “Is anything wrong, Sabrina? Did I offend you by asking if you were organizing the Carnival, too? Please tell me. If I did or said anything to hurt your feelings, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”
“It’s not you, Margaret,” she snaps. “It’s those two caddy witches down there.” She tosses her head toward the other end of Main Street.
I hesitate for a second trying to figure out what she means. “Are you talking about Stacy and Simone?”
“So they told you about the Winter Carnival, did they?” She snorts in the middle of her work. “That’s just rich.”
I furrow my brow. Am I missing something here? “Are you…are you doing anything for the Winter Carnival?”
“This is the first I’ve heard of it!” she barks. “They never told me anything about it, much less asked me to help. Those two haven’t spoken to me once since I first moved into this town. I hear a lot of blather about West End being a close-knit community, but do you know what, Margaret? I don’t see it. No one talks to me. No one includes me. You’re the only person I’ve gotten to know since I moved here.”
I gape at her in shock. “That’s awful! I had no idea.”
She sniffs and jerks her head sideways. “Never mind. I don’t care. I can go it alone. I don’t need them. If that’s the way they’re going to be, good riddance. They’re just jealous because the bakery is more successful than their two businesses combined.”
I check myself before I answer. “Are you telling me that, after the street fair, the community market, and Mr. Stewart’s memorial, after you provided all that great food, they don’t even talk to you?”
“That’s right. They’re heartless witches.” She casts another furious glare over her shoulder toward the offenders.
I rub my chin. “That is really odd. I know Stacy and Simone. I wonder why they’re doing it.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she fires back. “They blame me for Alan killing Scott Freeman. They’re ostracizing me because he got sent up for murder. They don’t want me here.”
I shake those thoughts out of my head. I see her as a drowning person floundering in the waves. I have to throw her a lifesaver. “I can’t believe that, but I’ll tell you what, Sabrina. We’re not going to let it continue one more day. You and I are going to do this Winter Carnival together if it’s the last thing we do.”
She spins around. “What do you mean?”
I take a step toward her and touch her arm. “Listen to me. I have some great ideas for some new Christmas candy, but I need a commercial kitchen to do it. What do you say? We could work together and we could do a joint display table for the Carnival.”
Her mouth falls open. “Are you serious?”
“Of course. You’re part of this community, Sabrina, as sure as I’m standing here. We’re going to do this and we’re going to show West End that you’re one of us. Everybody knows me, and if they want to have anything to do with me, they have to take you into the bargain. Come on. Let’s do this together.”
Her shoulders fall, and her ruler hangs limp at her side. “Okay, Margaret. I’m with you.”
“Great!” I squeeze both her shoulders and hurry away, but I don’t go back to the candy store.
3
I walk past the candy store to the Happy-Go-Lucky Café. I count Stacy Koontz one of my closest friends in this town. If anything is going on between her and Simone that set them against Sabrina Harris, I need to know about it right here and now.
I stride into the café and stop near the register. I wait until Stacy comes over. She beams at me out of her round moon face. “Having lunch by yourself, Margaret?”
“As a matter of fact, Stacy,” I tell her, “I need to talk to you. Is this a good time? I know you’re in the middle of a shift here.”
Her face falls. “What’s going on? Is it serious?”
I look around. “I don’t think you want to talk here in front of everybody. Can we go into your office?”
She leads me to her office in the back and closes the door. She rounds on me with her face as white as chalk. “Don’t tell me it’s another dead person.”
I hold up my hand. “Just hear me out, Stacy. You and I have been friends for a long time and I need the truth. Is there any reason you excluded Sabrina Harris from planning the Winter Carnival?”
Her mouth drops open. “Excluded her! What are you talking about?”
“She says you never went to see her about the Carnival. She says you never even told her about it. I asked if she was helping organize, too, and she says she never even knew there was a Winter Carnival before now. Is there some reason you and Simone didn’t go see her about it? Do you two have some reason not to like her?”
“I like her!” Stacy shrieks. “I love Sabrina. How could you say such a thing?”
“She says no one likes her. She says no one in town ever even talks to her. She says no one has made any effort to get to know her or to include her in the community since she first moved here.”
“That’s because she’s always working,” Stacy cries. “She works like a mule every day from before dawn until long after dark. I never see her out of her bakery. The only times I’ve seen her at community events, she’s been working twice as hard. She’s always mobbed by customers because her food is that good. You know how she is, Margaret. She really needs at least two more employees. She and Tanya alone can’t handle the workload, but she insists on doing all the baking herself. She’ll drive herself into an early grave if she doesn’t lighten up.”
I blink at Stacy. She�
��s right. Sabrina always works hard—too hard. She’s a perfectionist and never lets anyone do anything for her. She takes pride in her baked goods and with good reason. She drove herself to the breaking point for months trying to make her bakery a success. She probably doesn’t realize that it is one and that it’s time to hand over some of the responsibility to more employees.
I swallow hard. “She thinks people blame her for Alan killing Scott Freeman. She thinks the town is ostracizing her because Alan got sent up for murder.”
Stacy lets out a strangled cry. “No! Never! My God, does she really think that of us?”
I nod. “It sounds like maybe she blames herself. It sounds like she’s projecting her own guilt onto the rest of the town.”
Stacy spins away. “I’m going over there right now to talk to her. I have to tell her.”
“Wait!” I grab her arm. “Don’t do that.”
“Why?” Stacy yells. “I can’t let her go another day believing that.”
“Just…. hold on a second. There’s a better way to do this.”
“How?” she asks. “I want her to feel at home here. I want her to….” She breaks off, and her eyes swim with tears. “I can’t stand thinking about her going all this time thinking that about us.”
“I have an idea,” I tell her. “She and I are going to be working together on the Winter Carnival. I suggest we use that as a way to bring her back into the fold. Telling her might not work, but showing her will. We’ll all work with her to make her a part of this community.”
Stacy gulps back tears. “All right. We’ll do it your way, but just so you know, I want you to come and tell me anything we can do for her. If she needs anything to make this work, you come to me. Understand?”
I give her a hug. “You got it.”
I head back over to the candy store. On the way, I see Sabrina sketching on her front window with her grease pencil. There she goes again, doing everything herself. Any other business owner would hire a professional painter to paint their window, but not Sabrina.
I return to the candy store and set up my laptop on the counter. I scroll through the pages I bookmarked with the Christmas candy. Now that I know I can make it in a commercial kitchen, my ideas start flowing.
There I go again, getting ahead of myself. This must be what Zack is talking about. I’m always taking on some new thing, even when I already have enough to do.
Still, when I look around the candy store, I see a whole lot of the same old brands. Some of these candy brands have been around for fifty years. People might like their old favorites, but they like variety and new things, too. What better time to experiment than at Christmas?
I get out a piece of paper and start taking notes. I jot down a list of all the candies I want to make and tally up the ingredients I need. I’m starting to get excited about this when the doorbells jingle again.
David and Ariel enter, along with a breath of crisp air. It smells pungent and fresh, unlike the stale cold I remember from when I hammered those nails. It almost smells like…. I don’t want to say it. I don’t want to think it for fear I’ll jinx it. It would be wonderful, though, if we got snow for the Carnival. That would be the frosting on the cake.
David hugs his heavy coat around his shoulders and slaps his chest with both hands. “It smells like snow out there.”
“Shh!” Ariel hisses. “You’ll jinx it.
I put my arm around her. “That’s what I say, too, sweetie.”
“You can’t jinx snow,” David replies. “That would defy the laws of physics. If it’s going to snow, it will snow whether you talk about it or not.”
Ariel and I look at each other and roll our eyes. “He just doesn’t get it,” she remarks.
“He’s one of those Flat Earth types,” I tease. “Don’t pay any attention. What are you two doing in here—rotting your teeth in the middle of the day?”
“Yep,” David chirps. “We decided to pick up some candy to take on our hike with….”
He jerks his thumb over his shoulder and stops short with his mouth still open to say something. I cast a single glance in the direction of his gesture and spot Pauline waiting next to David’s car across the street.
My blood runs cold in my veins. So he’s going hiking with her after asking me out tonight. I shouldn’t be jealous of her. Their relationship is strictly platonic—at least, it better be.
I am jealous, though. I don’t want him going out with her. I want him going out with me. I should be the only woman in his life—besides, Ariel, I mean.
My gaze skids sideways back to his face. He stares down at me with his mouth still ready to say her name. They’re going for a hike with Pauline. They came to the store to get some candy.
He shuts his mouth and his expression changes. “Anyway, what do you want to get, sweetheart?”
Ariel rushes to the counter. “I’ll get one of those trays of wrapped sweets and three candy canes.”
I force myself to laugh it off. I can’t let her see I hold any animosity toward her mother. “That’s not a very healthy lunch.” I hand over the candy.
“Thank you, Margaret.” She tucks the tray under one arm and beams up at me. Her face shines with youthful innocence and vigor. She would never believe she could inspire so many competing emotions in the adults around her. She never will know if there’s any way I can possibly avoid it. “I wish you were coming with us. Can Margaret come with us, David?”
We both jump in at once making excuses. “I have to stay here and man the candy store,” I tell her.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” David blurts out.
She peers up at him. “Why not? Can’t Zack cover the store, just for a little while?”
David and I exchange glances. He starts to say something, but I get there first. “I don’t think I would survive outside in this cold for more than forty seconds, anyway. You go on ahead. I’ll see you all later.”
Her face falls. “I won’t see you. I’m going back to Hartford tonight. Mom’s driving me home as soon as we get back. This is the last time.”
“Oh, sweetie.” I put my arms around her again. “This isn’t the last time by a country mile. I’m going to be around to worry about your dental health for a long time to come. You’ll be back up here for the Winter Carnival, won’t you? Look at the candy I’m planning for our display. It looks pretty awesome, doesn’t it?”
She stares down at my computer screen with wide eyes while I run David’s credit card through the register. “You’re doing all that?”
“I just hope I get it done in time, so the next time you come up to visit, you can help me out. Sabrina and I are combining forces and I also have to do some promotion, so I’ll need all the help I can get.”
“Be careful you don’t take on too much,” David warns. “You’re going to have a lot more business over the holidays and you don’t want to overwork yourself.”
“I won’t overwork myself,” I tell him. “Besides, many hands make light work. With me and Sabrina sharing the load, it will be much easier.”
“I hope you’re right,” he remarks.
“Friends who work together stay together,” I tell him, “or something like that.”
“Don’t you mean….” he begins.
“Oh, never mind about that!” Ariel grabs his arm. “Come on. Let’s go.”
She hustles him out of the store and across the street to meet her mother. They leave me all alone with no one to talk to, but I suppose I shouldn’t mind. I wouldn’t want to be around Pauline, anyway. I couldn’t trust myself to behave properly without showing my resentment toward her.
4
Oppressive cloud hangs over the rest of the day. It occludes not only the sky but my mind, as well. Here I molder in my boring candy store while David has a great time with Ariel and Pauline. Life leaves me in the dust where I belong.
How can I compete with Pauline? She doesn’t have to work. She always shows up in West End looking like she stepped of
f the pages of Vogue. She hugs David right outside my shop window where I have no choice but to see them.
By the end of the day, I sense myself sliding into a deep, depressive funk. No one knows. No one cares. No one stops by to see me. I’m utterly alone in the world.
I lock up the store after work and slouch home with my muffler bunched around my face. That’s me. Faceless, formless, soulless. The overcast sky dampens every sound.
I get home to find a note on the entry table. Don’t forget I’m spending the night at Gilly’s, Mom. Don’t wait up. Zack.
I pitch my keys on the table and haul my exhausted carcass to the living room. This is just great. Tonight is not the night I need to be alone in the house. I flop onto the couch and fling my arm over my eyes.
I would lie here all night if I didn’t get hungry, but I’m still too low to get up and do anything about it. I get out my phone and waste an hour on the internet before a text comes through from David. On my way over now.
I blink at the screen. What is he talking about? Why is he on his way over now? Why did he say it like that, like I should know exactly what he’s talking about? I have to think hard and rummage through my memory banks before I remember. The date!
I launch myself off the couch faster than a speeding bullet. I completely forgot he asked me out on a real, special, fancy date to the Overlook Hotel. I got so wrapped up in feeling sorry for myself that I completely blanked out the part where he planned to take me to the same restaurant where he proposed to his wife.
I rocket upstairs stripping off clothes as fast as I can. I dive into the shower and soap up in record time. When I get out, I leave a trail of wet footprints tiptoeing to my room to get dressed. I hurry through the process and fuss with my hair, all the time keeping my eye on the clock. What time did he say he was going to pick me up?
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