by Tonya Kappes
“Fine.” The bottle was perfectly clean. I wiped them down every day, butI knew I wouldn’t win this argument. “I can’t promise they’ll tell me anything, but after Kelly gets here and I set up the booth as much as I can before I take the coffee down there, I’ll grab a ferry over and get some new supplies.”
“That’s my girl.” Aunt Maxi flipped the notepad open. “Here’s what I know. This Ron has a lot of big resorts named after him. He’s got a big ego if you ask me.”
I gave her a sideway glance because this was a case of the kettle calling the pot black.
“He’s not a big family man. His daughter had a lawsuit against him. But he’s got the daughter’s son for the summer and they might’ve made up because when I went to the library and looked up his company on the internet, his daughter is now listed as decorating consultant.”
“You’ve really done your work.” I was a bit impressed, but I wasn’t sure why we needed all those details. “We just need to know why the Bee Farm is selling or wants to sell.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” She flipped the notebook shut and put it back into the bag, only to pull out that big can of hairspray.
“Don’t you…” My words were silenced by the aerosol noise coming out of the can. I groaned and grabbed the big towel, throwing it over the food I’d taken out of the freezer before her hairspray could fall on it and ruin it all. “Spray that,” I let out a deep sigh.
“Honey, this crazy cold weather will make my hair fall if I don’t get it good and sprayed.” She threw the can in the bag and put the bag over her shoulder across her body. “I’ve got a few more stops to make about this.” She got up and put her coat back on. “Norman, nice to meet you.”
He grunted and shifted side-to-side on his feet, letting out an audible toot. Aunt Maxi pushed through the door and I hung my head.
Seven
“Can I help you?” When I noticed Jimmer and a woman other than Bev walk through the coffeehouse door, I put down the bags I was ready to take down to the booth to finish setting up for tonight.
“Jimmer.” The muscular, bad-tempered woman jerked the little boy’s arm. “Hurry up and pick out a treat. I’m in no mood to deal with you after I had to deal with that thing you call Mimi and my dad.”
Norman ran back into his cage when the woman’s boisterous voice scared him. I almost ran there too.
“Hi, Jimmer,” I put on a chipper attitude hoping it’d outweigh the woman’s mean attitude. “How about I give you a special treat to give Norman? I made them especially for dogs.” I reached over and pulled one of the bags of dog treats I’d put together for the Pet Palace booth, with Bean Hive and Pet Palace business cards.
“Thank you, Roxy.” His little hand reached up and took the bag.
“We don’t talk to strangers.” The woman grabbed the bag from him.
“Hi, I’m Roxanne Bloom.” I extended a hand. “Jimmer has been in here a few times. I’d hardly call myself a stranger to him. He’s been here all week.”
“Fine.” She shoved the bag into his chest. He grabbed it before it fell to the ground.
I was happy to see him smile when he took the treat out of the bag and Norman stuck his head out of the cage.
“Why don’t I get you a special treat,” I suggested to the woman. “You look like you could use a little you time.”
It was hard, but I had to be nice to her for Jimmer’s sake.
“You have no idea.” She sighed and her eyes softened. “I love my son and I’ve missed him, but there’s just something about my dad that turns my key the wrong way.”
“Your dad is Ron?” I asked and put together this was the woman Bev had told me about.
“I see he’s been talking about me? What did he say?” She planted her hand on her hip. “He was saying how I’m the black sheep of the family and he had to give me a job because I was a loser?”
Not Ron, but Bev might’ve mentioned it, I thought.
“No.” I shook my head and put the special ingredients in the bottom of the mug to make her a nice hot cup of the salted caramel coffee, maybe with an extra shot of caramel. “They’ve just been enjoying the week with Jimmer.”
“My dad?” She scoffed. “Enjoy a week with Jimmer? Lady.” She circled her finger in front of me. “You’re not a very good liar, because my dad doesn’t enjoy anything unless it makes him money and trust me when I say that he didn’t hold back telling me how much Jimmer has cost him this summer.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” I pushed the to-go coffee across the counter. The quicker I could get her out of here, the better. “On me.”
“Thank God, because I have no money. I work for the SOB to pay back the debt I owe him and my step-monster.” She lifted her hand to her mouth, palm side out, and said, “She’s the one who convinced him to stop paying for my car and my rent. Does Bev look helpless to you?”
“I… umm…” I had to stay neutral because they all seemed nuts to me.
“Right. She’s not helpless. She just won’t get a job because my dad pays her way.” Her eyes started to look crazy and her voice started to escalate. “Here’s the deal. She doesn’t know that my dad has an insurance policy on him with me as the beneficiary. Not that I wish the sperm donor dead, but I can’t wait to see her face when his will is read and my name is on it.”
I tried to wrap my head around all the crazy she was spouting, but just blinked the entire time.
“Oh my gosh, this is good.” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “You know.” She circled her finger around the mug. “My dad should really put one of your stands in the resort he’s building here.” She plucked a business card from the holder next to the cash register. “I’m the head decorator and I think this is amazing.” She looked at the card before putting it in her back pocket. “Come on, Jimmer. Let’s go!”
Jimmer jumped up. I quickly put a sugar cookie with sprinkles in a bag and handed it to him. He smiled at me and I returned the smile, hoping he’d seen it before he was dragged out of the coffeehouse.
“Who was that?” Kelly bobbled her head back and forth to get a good look at them before they got out the door.
“A mean nasty woman who we might be seeing more of if we can’t talk Andrew and Kayla out of selling the Bee Farm to them. Listen, do you think you can just close the coffeehouse after these guests finish their tea and bring the rest of this stuff down to the booth? I’ve got to head over to the Bee Farm before it’s too late.”
“Yes. Of course. I’ve got the dogs. Go.” She practically shoved me out the door and flipped the sign to Closed before I could.
Thank goodness I wore a sweater under my coat because the temperature was dropping fast and going across the lake on the ferry would only be colder.
Loretta Bebe was stacking hay bales on top of each other along the boardwalk. Babette Cliff was right behind her, propping up the fodder shocks, followed by Jean Hill placing potted mums on top of the hay. The finishing touches the Beautification Committee had planned for the festival were coming together.
“Good morning, Loretta,” I chirped, hoping she was in a good mood. You never knew with her.
“Roxy.” She rushed over, her eyes all in a flutter. “Did you hear about a resort? Your Aunt Maxi got me so hot my teeth started sweating in this cold weather.” She waved her hands in the air. “I told her there’s no such thing happening. I’ve not heard it on the Beautification Committee and nothing, I mean nothing, gets past me.” She threw her hand to her chest. “I swear that Maxine Bloom is trying to make me have a nervous breakdown so I can’t be re-elected as president.”
“That was a mouthful,” I joked. I processed what she was saying and was sad she didn’t have any news about it. She always had more news than the Tribune. “From what I have heard and understand, there’s a company in town that is looking at the Bee Farm to purchase some property.” My words punched her in the face. It contorted and she snorted and she was almost shaking. “I was just on my wa
y down the marina to see if Big Bib has a ferry going over the Bee Farm soon. I want to go ask Andrew and Kayla for myself.”
She bit her lip and drummed her fingers on her chest.
“Well, I’ll be a possum on a gum bush,” she cried out, brows turned down and shaking her head. “Honey Springs can’t turn into another Gatlinburg. It’s awful down there.”
“I like Gatlinburg, but I’m with you. I think our small town values family and community – big companies, not so much.” Though I knew there’d be a good boost in jobs, I just wasn’t so sure it belonged on the Bee Farm. “I’m more concerned with why the Noros would be selling land if they didn’t have to.”
“Oh, Roxy, I never thought about the bees.” She moved her hand from her heart to her head. “I saw it on Oprah how the bees were dying out.”
“Oprah?” I questioned.
“Oh, honey. If it’s on Oprah it’s the truth.” She flutter those lashes so fast, she could start a windstorm. “Mmmhhh. She said the bees were dying out.” She nodded and fiddled with her hands. “Roxy, honey, I’ve got to go.” She yelled over to Jean. “Jean, you got this? I’ve got to go.”
Jean gestured Loretta to go on.
“What was that about?” Jean asked me when I walked past her and we both watched Loretta lumbering down the boardwalk.
“I thought Oprah is off the air,” I muttered under my breath with a shrug. “I’m sure Loretta is just getting stuff done for the festival.”
“She’s been running around here like a chicken being chased by Colonel Sanders.” Jean tweaked a brow. “I can get more done without her here, so whatever it was you said, thank you.”
“I’ll see you later.” I waved bye and headed past Touched By An Angel Spa where the sidewalk sign advertised a honey spa special during the festival. It sure would feel good to be doing that instead of nosing around over at the island.
I waved at Emily Rich when I passed the Bee’s Knees Bakery. She held up a cute bee- shaped cookie with a little black mask on its face. I gave her the thumbs up, so tickled her business was going great.
The Buzz-in-and-out Diner was packed. In the Honey Comb Salon Crissy was chomping away on her gum while cutting someone’s hair with Alice Dee Spicer looking on. The front windows of The Wild and Whimsy were decorated with festive pumpkins and large brown and green vines twisting all around. There were several antique seasonal decorations on display and I was sure they’d sell out.
The marina was right down the ramp next to the boardwalk. Several slips were occupied by boats that’d already been winterized. Big Bib was the owner. He had a shop that sold things for boating, but if you wanted to purchase bait and things of that nature, you’d have to visit the Bait and Tackle Shop on the pier.
“Roxanne Bloom, how the heck are ya?” Big Bib was reclining back on two legs of the plastic chair, propped up by the wall of his shop.
“I’m good. How are you?” I asked.
“Fair to middlin’.” He nodded and pushed off the wall, setting all four legs of the chair down on the ground. “But you don’t come ‘round down here unless you need something.”
“Yes. I wanted to know if you could ferry me over to the Bee Farm?” I asked.
“What’s so interesting about the Bee Farm these days?” He questioned, standing up and sticking his hands in the pockets of his overalls.
“That’s what I’m hoping to find out.” I had another question. “Since you are the only ferry, has an outsider by the name of Ron Harvey said anything to you?”
I knew Big Bib talked everyone’s ear off when he had them on the ferry and I was sure he’d questioned Ron.
“Yep.” He brought his large hand up to his beard and brushed down it. His dark eyes looked at me. “He mentioned something about his business here.”
“You mean putting a big resort on the Bee Farm? You can’t possibly be on board with that. You of all people.” Big Bib didn’t like a lot of change. When I opened my coffeehouse on the newly renovated boardwalk, he just couldn’t understand why anyone would buy such expensive coffee.
“He’s got a good thing.” Bib shrugged.
“Wait. Did he . . .” I pointed to the ferry and back to Bib. “You’re going to be the only ferry over if he does build this resort. You gave you a deal to get your vote on the town council.”
“I can see why you were a lawyer.” He smiled under his facial hair.
“Bib, I can’t believe you’d sell out like that.” I was in shock. Of all people, Bib was the last one I’d figured would want a big resort.
“Roxy, I’ve got to think about my retirement. I don’t want to keep this marina until the day I die. I’d like to just hang out in my cabin down the lake and enjoy a little fishin’. That’s all.” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a boat key. “I’ll take you on over now if you’ve got time.”
“Oh. I’ve got all the time in the world.” I wasn’t only shocked about Bib, I was boiling mad at how conniving Ron Harvey was. I’d seen it when I was a lawyer when these bigwigs come into little towns and swoop up property only to go broke in a few years, leaving an empty building behind. Ron was already going behind the town council’s back and trying to get people on board with his big ideas and money-making plans.
I wasn’t going to let that happen to Honey Springs.
The Bee Farm took up the entire island. There were many trails and different stops along the way where Andrew had posted signs about which bees lived where. They had devoted the entire island to the species and the thought of this not being here anymore was something I couldn’t wrap my head around.
Andrew and Kayla had a nice building on the island with a roof shaped like a honeycomb. It was very unique and tourists loved to have their pictures taken in front of it. There was also a live band and several honey tasting stations. They also sold their fresh honey there on the island.
“Roxy, didn’t you see the sign on the marina that said we are closed for the festival?” Kayla met me outside of the building. She must’ve seen me coming up the trail.
Her shiny brown hair with Medusa-like waves floated behind her. The Bee Farm tee, tucked into her khaki pants, showed off her narrow waist.
“I did. But I came by as a social visit to find out what’s going on.” I didn’t wait to ease into it. Kayla and I were friends. We did business together. “I’ve been hearing you’re selling.”
She sucked in a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder.
“It’s not me. It’s Andrew. Some of the bees aren’t producing and we need to get new queens along with new colonies. Each colony costs around two hundred dollars and to replace the production we’ve lost would take thousands of new colonies,” her voice cracked. “We just simply didn’t save enough. Andrew said that we have no choice but to sell part of the land.”
“But to a resort?” I asked with a pleading tone.
“He’s giving us a lot of money. I really don’t see a way out of this one.” She looked down at the ground and pushed a leaf around with the toe of her shoe. “We’ve let Honey Springs down.”
“No, you haven’t.” I reached out and squeezed her hand. “Wait!” I yelled, making Kayla jump. “I know the citizens don’t want you to sell. We love our bees. We love you. Do you think you could hold Andrew off from signing any paperwork?”
“They were going to sign tomorrow morning at the Honey Springs National Bank.” There was no hope on her face.
“What if I can get the Beautification Committee to agree to donate all of the proceeds of the festival to you and Andrew? Would you be willing to work with Evan Rich at the bank to use the money wisely to slowly add the colonies you need?” It was a farfetched idea, but one that could save the Bee Farm if I could get everyone on board.
“Do you really think the community would do that?” Her eyes sparkled a little.
“If you think you can hold off on signing the contract, I’ll do everything I can to help save the bees.” I smiled and squeezed her hands.
&
nbsp; “I can.” She nodded. The frown on her face transformed into a big smile.
“I’ve got to go. Bib is waiting for me on the ferry and I’ve got a lot of work to do.” I let go of her hands. “I’ll see you tonight.”
We waved goodbye.
“That was quick.” Bib had thrown a line in the lake. “I didn’t even get a bite.”
“Hurry up, we don’t have time for you to fish.” I sat down in one of the metal folding chairs and snapped my fingers.
Bib took his place behind the wheel and I took the opportunity to send a group text to Loretta and all my friends who owned shops on the boardwalk about how we could help save the Bee Farm. Even if Loretta wasn’t on board, our small shops could give and at least put out a jar that was labeled for the Bee Farm.
“Aunt Maxi.” I called Aunt Maxi, who wasn’t good with texting. “I’ve got a good scoop for you and your gossip column.”
I quickly told her what I was doing and she said that she’d go to the businesses in downtown Honey Springs and get them on board. She also said that Loretta Bebe owed her a favor since she gave the committee free ad space for the festival in the Tribune, so she’d call on the Beautification Committee about donating the festival’s proceeds.
“Roxy, you’ve got something up your sleeve.” Bib looked me over with a cautious eye. I wasn’t going to tell him anything. He was on the wrong side of this as of right now. “You look a lot happier now than you did when I dropped you off at the Bee Farm.”
“Bib, I’m hunky-dory.” I winked and jumped off the ferry as soon as it hit the dock.
Eight
There was one thing I needed to do before I went to check on the booth at the festival. Go see Crissy Lane.
Crissy had one of the biggest mouths in Honey Springs. She was a hair stylist at the Honey Comb. She had the gift of gab and a real hankering for gossip. There wasn’t anyone better to spread the news about the Save the Bee Farm campaign because it needed to happen fast.