Strawberries and Sweet Lies

by Rosie Sams

  Melody ducked her head out of shyness. “Is it good?”

  “Of course! It’s spectacular! Excellent! Marvelous! You name it!”

  “One day, maybe we could expand the shop.”

  Kerry nodded and her face broke into a smile. Melody knew she loved working here, but she also knew she would love there to be more of them. Melody was a social butterfly and loved people.

  After they secured the cake layers, they set about cleaning up the kitchen and prepping for the next day’s business. Melody fetched the pup and walked out to the front to close the shop. Kerry joined her from the kitchen, clutching her purse and sweater, shaking her head as she gazed at the dog.

  “That Amelia is something else. Who does that to a puppy? What is her problem? I’d like to give her a piece of my mind!” Kerry’s indignation morphed into sweet murmurings as she knelt and scratched the little bulldog’s ears, “What should we do with you, huh, baby?”

  “You know what?” Melody said. “Why don’t you go on home, and I’ll take this little girl over to Sam’s and see if Amelia even made it over to his store, and if he can remember what time she left. Even if Amelia just weirdly forgot her, I can’t imagine she wouldn’t have remembered at some point this afternoon! How could she have forgotten her here all day?! So, unless she suddenly came down with dementia, or something dire happened, I have no idea what to think! If Sam isn’t able to help, I’ll drive by Amelia’s and see if she’s home; if so, I can remind her she indeed owns a dog, and drop this little baby off.”

  At her feet the bulldog wagged its tail and pawed her foot.

  “Okay… if you’re sure?” Kerry hesitated, obviously hating to leave her boss with sole responsibility for the abandoned pup.

  “Yes, go… we have a big day tomorrow and you need to sleep off your caffeine load.” Melody winked at her employee.

  “Let me know whatever happens tonight,” Kerry said. “Why don’t you ask Al’s help? He might be a good detective.”

  Melody rolled her eyes at the mention of his name. Just a while ago, Alvin had dropped by to pick up the brownies he asked for earlier. Kerry grilled the poor man why he needed two dozen brownies immediately. He said those were for his colleagues. Kerry huffed at his reason and suggested brownies were best with beer to tease him.

  “Kerry, I tell you. Stop torturing him.”

  Kerry laughed and they both retreated out of the shop. Kerry took home a box of leftover croissants, George’s favorite. Melody, on the other hand was holding tightly to the puppy’s leash.

  “I hope everything’s fine,” Melody said as she locked the shop’s doors.

  “It will be. Again, tell me whatever happens,” Kerry said and went down to stroke the puppy’s head. “I know you miss your home. I hope Amelia misses you, too,” she said, stroking the soft fur just behind the eyes. The little blue and white bundle squirmed with joy beneath her touch.

  Melody crossed the street and watched Kerry disappear. She would soon be home and for a moment Melody felt alone. It was soon gone as she was practically being pulled by the puppy.

  The little bulldog was more than happy to take a walk after her day's confinement; she practically skipped as she rushed ahead of Melody, racing back to her every few seconds as she reached the end of her leash each time. Within a few minutes, Melody and the pup entered Sam’s, where he stood at the counter, tallying bills and what looked like completing his cash out for the night.

  Sam reminded Mel of a sanitized version of the cartoon character Pig-Pen of peanuts. No matter how freshly showered, and clean his clothes, the jolly bachelor had a rumpled look about him. Wispy gray strands stretched over his large, beet-red head; his size 44 khakis and sport shirts were wrinkled, and his black wingtips, scuffed with knotted laces. Melody longed to give this sweet man a makeover; it would help him snag the wife he most certainly longed for.

  “Hey, Sam,” Mel greeted him as he continued to count his cash under his breath, nodding at her without taking his eyes off the money. She waited patiently for him to finish his tally, not wanting to distract him or throw him off as he totaled up the sales.

  Finally, he looked up with his trademark Sam grin. It was a 100-watt smile he bestowed on all but the most cantankerous of customers. “What can I do you for, young lady… and your little friend?” he asked, noticing the small dog accompanying her.

  “Hi, Sam, sorry about bringing the dog in, but she’s not mine. A customer left her behind, tied to a post outside my shop, this morning. Apparently, she forgot to come back for her. Last I saw of this lady, she was heading here for a bottle of champagne. Do you remember a middle-aged, very pretty woman coming in this morning?”

  Sam thought for a moment, scratching his balding head as he pondered.

  “No, I don’t,” he said. “And I would remember someone of that description I’m sure,” he joked. “Sadly, most of my customers were of the boring male version, or women too young for me, much to my disappointment.” He chuckled some more. “But no one of that description, and come to think of it, not even one champagne customer,” he finished seriously.

  “Oh dear, where can she have got to and why would she leave the dog?”

  “Sorry, Mel, I hope you find her. But even if you don’t, that’s a nice little doggie, a French bulldog, isn’t it? They aren’t cheap, and it looks like it likes you.”

  “She,” Mel absently corrected. “And there wasn’t even an identifying tag on her collar.”

  Sam gave her a look that said, I guess she’s gone.

  “Luckily, I know where the woman, Amelia Reed, lives, so I thought I might drive by her place and see if she’s home. It’s really an odd situation, and I’m starting to worry that maybe something happened to her.”

  “Well, maybe not, Miss Melody. It could just be that she was busy, and plumb forgot all about her little fur buddy. Sometimes, we seniors get a bit absentminded at our age.” Sam grinned.

  “I really hope that’s it,” Melody said. “Thanks, Sam.”

  Unconvinced, nevertheless Melody bid him goodbye and headed back to her shop with the little dog. The puppy was quite happily running back and forth and constantly giving her some attention. Melody enjoyed having her despite the worry. Somehow with the little dog she didn’t feel quite so lonely.

  A feeling of deep worry had settled in her stomach. Melody was planning to retrieve her car and drive over to Amelia’s home. As she walked the short distance back, the little pup scampering ahead of her, a flash of gold foil sticking out of a sidewalk garbage can caught her eye. She walked over to investigate, reaching in to pull out one of her very own bakery boxes, the signature one she used for candies and confections. She had only used one today! Her heart speeding up, Mel lifted the lid with suddenly sweating hands, and there lay two-dozen, untouched De Vine strawberries.

  Chapter Six

  Melody returned to her shop and stopped at the window where she last saw Amelia. Looking around as if reliving that moment in her mind. Did she miss anything? Any sign? The lady said she was about to start her new life. What life was that? Did she mean to commit suicide?

  Melody was pacing back and forth on the sidewalk. Why would Amelia buy the strawberries if she wasn’t going to eat them? Was it just for show?

  The puppy jumped at her legs with a cute little yap, making her stop. She picked her up and hugged her.

  “Little girl, what happened to your owner? She loves you, right?”

  As if in answer, the dog yapped again. Melody’s anxiousness was growing. She had to do something. There was something wrong. The woman had looked happy, confident… not like she was about to abandon her dog… and then the strawberries. That didn’t make sense, right? What should she do? Should she look for Amelia? Could she do it herself? It was too much for her. She could not dedicate her whole night to discovering Amelia’s whereabouts—and what if she was too slow, too late?

  There was only one thing to do, take this matter to the pros. Melody decided to go to the pol
ice station. She would see Alvin there, but she didn’t care. The situation was too important to think of her own petty worries.

  Chapter Seven

  When she walked in, Alvin stood by the counter reading a newspaper.

  Slowly his head lifted, and his eyes widened as a blush tinged his cheeks. The smile was quick, and he pushed the paper away dedicating all his attention to Melody. Under different circumstance, his look would be cute, but he was not what she needed right now. Did he think she had just dropped by to say hi? Before she could catch her breath to speak, Alvin’s face lit up even more and he spoke.

  “Oh, hey, Mel. I was just thinking about you.”

  She ignored this greeting and breathed. “Hi, Al, I have an urgent matter to talk about. I think something happened and I need you to know it, or at least do something about it.” Melody knew she was mumbling like a crazy person as trying to put things into words suddenly seemed impossible. What exactly did she know? Nothing!

  “That’s a coincidence, I need to talk to you, too,” he answered uncertainly.

  Briefly sidetracked from her mission, Melody replied, “Really? You do?”

  “Yes, uh… that is, I need to ask you a question,” he began fumblingly. “Uh, would you… I mean, um… I was wondering if you’d care to catch a bite with me tonight?” He finished the last part all in a rush, stuffing his hands suddenly in his pockets as if he didn’t know where they came from. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, alternately looking at her chin and then looking down at the counter as he nervously waited for her response.

  Taken aback, Mel forged ahead with her own agenda. “Uh, thank you, Al, but I seem to have a bit of a problem that can’t wait, so it’s a really bad time, sorry.”

  The sheriff looked embarrassed. “Oh, I see. Please, tell me what happened. Did someone steal from your shop?”

  Melody shook her head but was pleased with the idea that he worried about her business. “Earlier this morning, I saw a woman named Amelia tie up her puppy outside my shop and then she dropped by and bought two boxes of De Vine. She asked me where she could buy some champagne, and I pointed her to Sam’s. The last time I saw her was she was petting her dog before leaving and heading off in Sam’s direction. It took me a few hours to realize that the dog was still there. I have waited for her the whole day expecting her to return for her dog. She didn’t.”

  “Don’t you think she just forgot about the dog?” Alvin suggested.

  “That’s what I want to think also. I dropped by Sam’s when I closed my shop to ask if he saw Amelia. He said she had not been there. Then on my way back— something made me a little anxious. I saw the two boxes of De Vine in a garbage can.”

  Alvin looked like he was deep in thought. It was Melody’s first time to see him like that—looking confident and in control, it suited him. This was far from the Alvin she knew. This was him in his real life.

  “She could have just thrown the pastries, Mel,” Alvin said.

  Melody’s jaw dropped and she felt a tinge of hurt inside. “But she liked them. I gave her a free sample, that was why she bought them,” she said feeling defensive.

  Alvin must have noticed her disappointment. He raised his hands and waved them as if trying to erase his previous statement. “No, don’t think I’m saying your baked goods are not delicious. Everything you do tastes good. I’m just playing devil’s advocate. I have to look at what could have happened. We need facts,” he explained.

  With that, Melody’s expression softened. “I was going to drive over to Amelia’s, but with everything that has happened so far, I really thought you should be involved.”

  “You made the right decision. I’m hoping this is nothing, but you were right to be concerned and to come to me,” Alvin said.

  Melody gave a small smile for the sake of courtesy.

  “Anyway, I know Amelia Reed. I saw her with the puppy yesterday. I heard that she was a busy woman. She runs several businesses, attends to many charity events. She has international traveling obligations as well. It is possible that something came up—maybe an urgent phone call for a matter needing immediate attention.”

  “I wondered that too,” Melody said. “But even if an emergency came up, I would think she would have remembered her puppy at some point today, and then called us at the shop to explain, don’t you?” She thought of putting herself in Amelia’s situation. No matter how busy she was in the bakery, she never forgot important things, even her friends’ birthday. But she thought, she was not Amelia. You couldn’t always judge people by what you would do.

  Alvin nodded, his calm, confident manner had taken the pressure off somehow and Melody felt like she could breathe.

  “Yes, you’re probably right. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. I will take care of it.” He looked down, suddenly flustered and scuffed his feet, color rising in his cheeks. He looked back up and made eye contact. “Sorry about my earlier question—very bad timing. But I’ll look into the Amelia situation. Don’t you worry. In the meantime, do you want me to call the animal shelter for you? You could drop the dog off there on your way home. I could do it for you, but it would have to be later, as I have a conference call here in a few minutes.”

  Melody thought for a moment, looked down at the little animal, and felt a pang of guilt and something else.

  For her part, the little girl in question wagged her tail, at first tentatively, and then more eagerly, her hind end joining in.

  “I can’t.” Melody sighed. “She is just too sweet and has already had enough abandonment for a lifetime. She seems used to me now, so I’ll just keep her with me until Amelia is found.”

  Alvin walked Melody and the dog out of the station. While walking back home, she asked the puppy what temporary name she wanted.

  The dog looked up and yipped a happy bark. The blue-grey coat had a white patch over her bottom. It looked like a white smudge on the grey.

  “I want to call you, Smudge,” Melody said. “Do you like it?”

  The puppy wagged her tail and yipped with delight.

  Melody smiled. “Smudge it is, then.”

  Chapter Eight

  Mel walked back to her shop and loaded the bulldog in the backseat of her well-used, midnight blue Chevy Tahoe. She stopped by a grocery store to grab a couple of dog dishes and a bag of premium dog chow, not wanting to feed the purebred more people food. She also picked up a frozen pizza and a bagged salad, feeling too frazzled to contemplate cooking a dinner from scratch.

  Driving up in front of her garage, she pressed the automatic door opener, and then drove slowly in and shifted the car into park.

  “We’re home, Smudge,” she announced as she opened the back door, unclicking the dog’s leash from her collar, and then setting her on the garage’s concrete floor. She felt pleased with herself for settling on a temporary name for the little puppy, however briefly it would be needed.

  For her part, Smudge strutted to the door, acting as if she owned the place. Once it was open, she raced out into the lush backyard, barking and scattering birds from a bank of dense lilac bushes.

  Melody stopped to admire the sight of the little dog prancing about the green lawn. An emptiness, a pang of longing seemed to overwhelm her. What was it for? This particular dog? To own a dog? To not be alone? She mentally shook herself, determined to be grateful for what she already had. This small, well-built home, what she thought of as her cozy cottage. The beautiful garden that she spent her weekends in, adding new flowers and shrubs every year was her green thumb project. Then she had her own business, one she had built proudly, and all on her own. She next thought of Kerry; she couldn’t have imagined a better employee, and her customers, many of them were friends. Yes, she was blessed and content, and needed to remember that when it was time to relinquish this little dog back to her rightful owner. A little dog that had already burrowed into her heart.

  Chapter Nine

  After Mel and Smudge finished their respective evening meals, Mel fashion
ed a nest of small blankets for the little bulldog on the floor of the bedroom. With the puppy snuggled up and looking as cute as only babies can, she took a bath.

  Clean and in her nightdress, she took Smudge for a last walk in the garden. “Well, Smudge, should we turn in?” she asked as Smudge walked past her to the bedroom, turned herself around a couple of times before contently plopping down on the makeshift bed. It brought a smile to her face and a warmth to her heart that she had been missing.

  As Mel watched, the pup instantly dropped off, most likely exhausted from the long day of vigilance waiting for her owner to return. “Poor little thing, I feel like you’re an orphan,” Melody whispered, not wanting to wake the sleeper.

  Mel turned in as well, knowing tomorrow would dawn bright and early as every bakery day did. But instead of dropping off as she hoped, concern for Amelia and speculation as to possible explanations for her disappearance made for a restless, and fitful night. When she finally dropped off in the wee hours of the morning, it felt like her alarm rang just minutes after.

  Mel groaned, reluctantly dragging herself out of bed, but then had to smile when Smudge popped up like a jack-in-the-box, wagging her tail happily and licking Mel’s hands, legs, toes, before spinning circles. The little pup was full of energy.

  “Well, at least one of us is well-rested,” Mel commented, yawning as she rose. She slipped on her robe and slippers, and then took Smudge outside for a potty break.

  After showering, Mel replenished Smudge’s food and water dishes, blended herself a green smoothie, then she and the little dog loaded into the Tahoe to head over to the shop to get started on the day’s tasks.

  When Mel and Smudge entered the kitchen, they found Kerry bustling about with her usual speed and determination, laying out various utensils and ingredients. Kerry stopped and gaped at the sight of Smudge. Mel shrugged and shut Smudge back in her office once again, this time tossing down an old sweatshirt she kept in the office for winter bookwork for the little dog to nap on.