by Tamara Woods
"She didn't take it like that. She knows you're a shy, retiring, delicate little flower," Clare snorted.
"I just like things to be pleasant," Isa said. "And that was decidedly unpleasant."
"Are you an actual grandma?" Clare asked.
Isa frowned at her.
"Decidedly unpleasant," she mimicked her friend. "Who even are you?"
"If you don't know by now, I don't know what to tell you." Isa felt so tired inside and out.
"I thought you were supposed to be smart?" Mrs. Garris shut the front door behind her.
Isa took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Excuse me, Mrs. Garris?"
"He still talks about you all the time. How you were the one he should've been with. How he made such a bit ole mistake. How he shouldn't have listened to us." She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and shook out one, lighting it.
He does, does he? Wisely, Isa said nothing, letting this play out.
"He came to you for help. He told me he did. What have you done to help him?" She blew out smoke toward Isa and she swatted the smoke away.
"Ma'am, I'm a librarian, how am I supposed to solve anything? The police are capable—"
She snorted rudely. "The police are capable of getting on my nerves. That's what they can do. They couldn't detect their way out of Melvin's Grocery, let alone find the real killer."
She was getting louder and louder, and Clare's eyes were darting back and forth between the two like she was watching a tennis match. Isa forced herself not to shrink.
"Mrs. Garris, I suggest you get your son a good lawyer. He stopped being my boyfriend when he chose Tiffany over me, 10 years ago."
"Are you so petty, that you want to see him rot? What kind of person are you?" She spat out and stomped away to her car, a trail of smoke weaving behind her. A few moments later and she ripped and roared down the road.
Isa looked down at her shaking hands, wishing she could smack them upside Travis's head. Why did he get her involved in his mess? She had nothing to do with this. To do with him. She had come home to help her aunt with her business, not to get involved with a murder mystery for the love of chuck! She was a LIBRARIAN!
But what if they're somehow related? her inner voice whispered.
"Hey, you all right?" Clare said to her, putting her hand on her shoulder.
She instinctively pulled away. "Fine. I'm fine."
"Right.” Clare’s hand dropped to her side, and she gave Isa an extra long look. “I can tell how fine you are. Well, your aunt and Mama are catching a ride home with a couple of The Ladies. You want to go somewhere and talk about all this?"
Isa hesitated. She honestly wanted to just put it all behind her and forget, but she wasn't going to be allowed to do that. And she couldn't take too many more outright confrontations like that. The gossips would never stop running their mouths. But on the other hand, she was tired of everything.
"No, I'm pretty exhausted. I'll drop you off and meet up with you tomorrow."
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS MONDAY MORNING and Isa was fed up with trying to relax. Relaxing made her anxious. Her aunt had encouraged her after breakfast to just kick her heels up and watch some daytime television. Isa made a sour face. Not way, no how, nuh-uh. She needed good habits for herself and part of that was working.
Besides, if she didn't do something constructive, she was going to drive herself nuts thinking about Travis being stuck in jail and Chad being stuck in a box. She swallowed thickly. It was time to get started.
She donned on a luxurious forest green top she'd found at an online thrift store, a comfy pair of plaid slacks and her customary cardigan. She added a pearl necklace so she could feel fancy. She slipped on her boots and hurried downstairs.
The renovations definitely stopped at the kitchen door. The stairs down to the shop were as old and creaky as ever. She'd never been able to sneak upstairs with her aunt knowing when she'd been stuck working down there as a teen. The door groaned in protest as she pushed it open. She made an note to oil its hinges.
When she stepped into the hallway, she felt like she'd walked back in time. The first hint was the smell. Incense and old books. Maybe a whiff of the oils her aunt sometimes liked to heat on little burners for atmosphere. The unique mixture calmed the nerves that were rioting in her stomach. She hadn't realized she was so anxious to be back down there.
The hallway itself was pretty boring. White uninspired walls. The office door on her right was closed. The carpet underneath her was still that deep deep green that carried throughout the shop. Her aunt said it had reminded her of grass on the prairie and that's why she'd bought it.
Isa still wasn't sure if the woman had ever actually been to the prairie or if she'd watched too many Little House on the Prairie episodes. She pushed through the hanging beads that separated the front of the shop from the business end. A rush of memories hit her.
Fraya, Clare, Auntie, and her painting the walls a deep blue and stenciled gold stars, moons, and astrological signs. Her other cousin Neilina had been nowhere to be found that day. Probably communing with squirrels in the woods or something. She smiled a little at the thought.
The time she and Clare had created a book fort in the small big print hardback books section and stayed there for the entire afternoon and her aunt had thought they'd run away.
The day when her ex had brought her a pink tulip to ask her to the homecoming dance. It was her favorite flower and her favorite color. Months later she found out that he'd asked Auntie about her favorite flower.
She shook herself out of her reverie and paid attention to the world around her. The bookshop did feel like a whole world onto itself. The outside noise didn't reach them. It was like her aunt had cast a spell and made everything quiet.
To her left, the deep mahogany bookshelves didn't tower of her anymore like they had in her youth, but they were still tall and gorgeous. Along side the books where also piles of books. All for sale. All a mishmash of topics. Old mixed in with the new. The shop was less an organized place as much as an adventure for the reader. Directly across from her was the front glass doors.
One way in and one way out. The thought popped into her head and then it was gone. She shrugged it off. To her right was the dark counter that matched bookshelves and the rest of the furnishings. It should have felt too dark, but her aunt had been strategic with the lighting, making the shop feel more cozy and mysterious than claustrophobic.
She heard the office door open behind her, "Isa, is that you?"
Her niece silently groaned. That woman had ears like a bat.
Isa turned with a ready smile. "Auntie, you look sharp today! Have I told you that?"
She did look beautiful. Today's caftan was a deep blue with large orange flowers that Fraya must've gifted her from Hawai'i. Of course her scarf matched perfectly as did her statement necklace and bracelet.
"Isa, you tell everybody that when you're in trouble. I ain't new," Her aunt scoffed. Isa shrugged. It had been worth a shot.
"Why are you down here? I thought I told you to go and relax somewhere?"
"Auntie, I relax best when I have something to do. I don't even have cleaning to do in my bedroom! You made me like this, it's your fault." She said, looking around, taking in the room. "Besides if I sit around relaxing, I'm going to think myself crazy."
Her aunt snorted. "Yeah, right. Since you're down here, you might as well get busy." She reached into the little broom closet and handed Isa the broom, dust pan, a couple dust rags, and a bottle of Pledge.
"I'll clean and have a look around. Is there anything in particular that you need me to take care of?"
"You can probably reach the top of the bookshelves better than I can," Auntie stood up a little straighter. "I am a bit more petite in my old age."
Isa winked at her and kept it moving.
She headed over to the bookshelf area, figuring right that her aunt hadn't dusted as much over there. The metaphysical side of the store was much closer to her heart. She mad
e quick order of the work, enjoying the sheen that she was bringing back to the wood. It really was a gorgeous place to be, even if the organizational system was more hodgepodge than Dewey Decimal.
Her aunt didn't really go for season decorations, using instead crystals and locally made art for decoration that was all for sale. She picked up a piece that was a twist of metals and blue and purple glass and imagined how it would look on the mantle of her future home. She shook her head at herself and concentrated on dusting it instead.
Isa swept the floor and straightened shelves. She found magazines that were beyond the pale and put them in the box catch-all behind the counter. She straightened cushions in the reading areas and dusted lampshades. Stacks of books were rearranged to be more orderly. She made her way over to the teas and snacks counter.
The notepad on the counter beckoned for her to organize things. Gladly. She made notes of teas and snacks that needed refilling. She couldn't remember the paperwork she needed for inventory and made a note to ask her aunt. She updated the sales sign, straightened up stacks, and tossed any flyers that weren't current. She put water on for tea, started a fresh pot of coffee, and made sure the display of snacks was appealing.
She looked around in satisfaction and then decided to get those forms. When she opened the door, she found her aunt at her desk pulling out her special deck of playing cards. Instead of using tarot cards, Auntie preferred these playing cards that she said was given to her by a "gypsy with the second sight." Isa was never able to tell if it was a real story or just a fable that her aunt had created to go along with her own mythology.
"Auntie what are you doing?"
"The cards are calling to me girl. Have a seat. We need to do a reading for you."
"Auntie, people are going to be coming soon-"
"That's alright. This won't take long." She pointed to the chair in front of her desk and Isa slunk over to it and plopped down. Generally, she indulged her aunt's idiosyncrasies but when there was work to do, it felt like a waste of time.
"Cut the deck," Auntie said, handing the deck over to her niece. Isa did her best not to sigh heavily and roll her eyes a million times. Even if she didn't agree with her aunt's ways, she didn't want to be disrespectful. But sometimes...the woman made it really hard.
She passed the cards back over and her aunt did a spread that she didn't recognize. Often her aunt did spreads that she'd made up over the years. Isa wasn't exactly an expert and didn't pay much attention to them. She was concentrating more on her aunt's ever expressive face.
A dark cloud passed over her aunt as she looked down at the spread. An unexpected shiver ran over Isa's spine. She'd never seen this particular blend of panic and worry on Auntie's face before. She started picking at the skin on her thumb's cuticle in worry.
"You've always been like a daughter to me," her aunt started. "And I've certainly loved you the most and wanted the most for you. But this, this is too much. You should leave."
"What?"
"Leave while you can girl. Things are going to get messy here. Too messy. I don't want you to get hurt. If you leave, you should be able to avoid the confusion and the potential pain."
Isa looked down at the cards and saw nothing there, other than some spades and clubs. She gently grasped her aunt's trembling hand.
"I don't know what you see in those cards Auntie, but I'm going to be fine. And I'm not leaving here. You wanted me to help you and I'm going to do that."
Her aunt shook her head, "You don't understand—"
"No, you don't. I'm not leaving. I don't care what those cards say. I'm here. We'll meet whatever head-on."
Her aunt held her gaze for a moment. Whatever she saw, she nodded. "Alright then. I don't know why you're so daggon stubborn. I don't know where you get it from."
Isa gave a wiry smile. "Yeah, me neither Auntie."
Though her aunt did act reassured, she decided to leave the shop to her niece for the rest of the day. Her aunt's footsteps were heavy up the stairs and her shoulders seemed bowed under the weight of the world. Isa decided to make her dinner after work and let her aunt kick up her feet and relax.
Be careful what she wished for, apparently she was going to have the shop to herself. Fortunately for Isa, things hadn't changed in the Mystic Eye much after all. She picked up things fairly quickly.
Isa started brainstorming ideas as she waited for their mid-morning coffee drinkers to come in. Maybe the Mystic Eye could start a monthly subscription box? That was a big trend in the bookish world. Her aunt had connections with a lot of independent artists, craftsmen, and writers. They could create a box that leaned a little heavily on the metaphysical just like the shop. It could be lucrative and a way to supplement income for the leaner days.
The bell jangled as the door was pushed open. Isa looked up from her phone and two older women walked in. From their red hats jauntily placed crookedly on their head, they were part of her aunt's Ladies Who Lunch group. Miss Harriet was a taller woman more on the slim side and wore a distinctly purple top with a bedazzeled collar. Miss Marietta, a bit shorter and rounder, was more conservative with a cream top that had some type of feathers around the collar and sleeves like she a plump chicken.
"Hi ladies, is there anything I can help you with?" Isa asked as she made her way toward them. "Auntie isn't feeling well today, but she's hoping to come down a bit later."
They tsked and asked for two cups of hot black tea.
They settled into the cushy chairs with the best view of the front door, flipping through magazines while Isa brewed their tea. She couldn't help but overhear them as they talked.
"Did you hear about the last carpentry job those Hammill boys did?" Miss Marietta, the chicken lady asked.
"No, what happened?" Miss Harriet, the bead queen, leaned in a little, her eyes widening.
"They built the Greenes' their wrap-around deck and it just collapsed underneath their family dog after church yesterday."
"Oh no! Was anybody hurt?"
"No, thank Jesus!"
They both seem to take a moment to pray or reflect or gather more gossip; it was really anybody's guess.
"Them poor people. Those boys oughta be ashamed of themselves. They were raised better than that," Miss Marietta's feather's fluttered under her tsking.
"I hate to speak ill of the dead, but that Chad boy sure wasn't worth more than a plugged nickle." Miss Harriet nodded decisively, her nose high in the air.
"Mmmhmm...that's a fact."
Isa noticed that often older people say a lot with just a click of the tongue or a cut of the eyes. She wondered if it took years of practice to hone those skills or maybe they were born with it. That was one of those things she'd like to learn how to do. Must make conversations that much easier if you can convey thoughts with just sucking on your dentures.
She poured their teas and served them on a tray with their matching saucers. She then quoted the price. Absolute shock. But they finally gave her the cash.
Sure, they were Auntie's friends, but she wasn't her aunt. Why would she be giving away drinks?
She thanked them warmly and let them know the refills for black tea and regular coffee were free. They looked a bit less standoffish after that. She'd created a small sign about the refills and placed it in front of the register. And she'd added it to the blackboard that listed the bookstore's wares. Her aunt may not be too interested in changing things up, but if the rumors were true, she needed to shake things up in any way possible. And the regular coffee and the black tea weren't expensive items.
The Mystic Eye had a steady stream of pedestrian traffic who came in looking for books and magazines and the otherworldly items that the store offered. Isa gently probed them as she assisted everyone, trying to find out what would improve their shopping experience. She had a document where she kept a running list of ideas that people enjoyed from other places. Ideas like having a bring your pet to the bookshop day probably wouldn't work out, but maybe renting out the area for smal
l bookish events could be really interesting and pretty workable with aunt's connections to local wineries.
"Isa dear, could you help me out?"
She looked up from her laptop with a smile. "Of course Dena, how can I help you?"
Dena Malone had been a fixture around town for years, first as a cheerleader and now as Whisper Valley's very own socialite. There were still fairly wealthy people who preferred the slower pace of the small town. Dena's family had made their wealth in the logging industry, but had expanded to take a piece of the renewable energy market.
"Dena, you look marvelous. How can I help you?"
"I'm looking for crystals actually. I need something to clean my energy."
Dena looked like someone who would disdain that side of the shop with her expensive cut of slacks and blouse in neutral tones and her professionally dyed hair with its lowlights, rather than patronize it.
Isa tried to mask her surprise, but she apparently didn't do a very good job. Dena chuckled at her.
"I know, I know. I believe in life energy and life force. And the importance of trying to harvest that energy."
Her smile was strained around the edges. Isa looked at her appraisingly, moving past her initial observatoins and trying to see a bit more. Her aunt had said she was very well-suited to sell these types of items, because she was able to link with the person and their needs. She just thought she had a strong eye for detail. She noticed that Dena was clutching the strap of her bag so tightly that her knuckles were white. She held her body rigid, like someone who was in pain. Her forehead had deep worry lines. Isa talked to her quietly as she led her to the back of the store. She suggested cistrine and jade for the calming and grounding. To detract the negative energy and to give then other woman peace. She suggested amethyst for pain relief and to relieve tension.
She advised Dena that after she found stones that called to her, to bring it to the counter. The Ladies Who Lunch had already left for the afternoon. Apparently, not enough had happened to keep their interest.
Auntie walked into the corridor, her steps much lighter. Isa hugged her aunt close, noting her aunt hugged her back much more strongly than she had in the morning.