by J. D. Shaw
“That’s because the men she sends rarely make it up the front steps before you shoot them down.” Kathy laughed back. “Remember the guy who bought those organic gluten-free, sugar-free, fair-traded chocolates?”
“The ones that tasted like tree bark?” Vivienne laughed out loud.
“I believe you said that tree bark, dipped in swamp water, probably tasted better.” Kathy continued with a snort.
“I didn’t send him away because of those foul chocolates. I sent him away because he didn’t believe in deodorant.” Vivienne cackled.
“The alluring scent of natural musk,” Kathy continued, “How on Earth could you resist that?”
A knock at the door startled Vivienne. “Oh my God, I think he’s here.” She dropped her voice down to a whisper.
“So hang up and answer the door.” Kathy whispered back. “And call me later with all the details.”
Vivienne ended the call and slipped the phone into her purse that was perched on the end table. She took a deep cleansing breath and then opened the door with a radiant smile.
Joshua Arkins stood at the top of her front stairs and he looked even better with the porch lamp reflecting off his chiseled features. He was much taller than she had remembered, easily a few inches over six feet. Now out of uniform, he was dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a dark green polo shirt that defined the best parts of his chest in all the right ways. “I am so very sorry about being late but we had a late booking down at the office.”
“Are you late?” She lied like a pro and then, to seal the deal, craned her neck back to the small wall clock in her entryway. “I lost track of time myself.”
Joshua flashed his mega-watt smile and gave his brow a quick wipe. “That’s good to hear. I wouldn’t have blamed you for slamming the door in my face.”
“I would never do that.” She gestured to the living room behind her. “Would you like to come in for a minute?”
“Thank you.” He followed her into the living room where she sat down on her white sofa that was draped with one of her grandmother’s hand-knitted afghans. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thank you.” He glanced around her living room and took a seat next to her. “This is a beautiful home.”
“It’s rented.” She blurted out and then laughed. “Sorry, I don’t know why I just spit that out.”
“Wish I had found a place like this when I moved to town.”
She could feel his body heat emanating like her steam radiator during a cold snap in January. He was no doubt just as nervous as she had been and that was the magic trick that allowed her to relax just a bit. “So where did you move to?”
“I found a duplex over on Meier Lane.” He answered quickly. “But it doesn’t have a quarter of the charm of this place. Look at that cove molding.”
She was impressed. He wasn’t one of those men who only seemed able to memorize sports scores and the names of Hooters waitresses. “The landlord told me most of these homes were built right before the depression. They were actually owned by the railroad and rented to workers and their families. After the railroads went bust, the homes were bought up by newlyweds who soon outgrew them as they created the baby boomers.”
“You like history too?” He relaxed a bit with his posture, allowing his hands to move from his lap to the sofa cushions.
“Always have.” She glanced at the wall clock and cleared her throat. “Well, if we’re going to grab dinner we better get a move on.”
He looked at the clock in surprise and lightly slapped his head. “I apologize again.”
She put her hand on his and there was a moment of silence between them. He was unusually warm to the touch and she felt some sort of extra protective aura being so close to him. No doubt it was just her subconscious not letting her forget that he was an officer of the law. “No need.” She rose from the sofa and he followed suit.
“So where’s a good place to eat other than Clara’s Diner?”
“Are you fond of Chinese?” She asked as she walked over to the end table and clutched her purse.
“Love it.”
“Shall we take my car or yours?” She opened the front door, letting in a breeze that smelled faintly of wood smoke from the neighbors who had wood burning stoves to heat their homes. Mixed with the earthy smell of fallen leaves, it was a smell she felt defined the country-style of upstate New York.
“After showing up late, the least I can do is save you some gas money.” He winced as the words came out. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
She laughed it off. “It’s fine. I’m nervous too.”
He led her to his blue Jeep Grand Cherokee, which was spotlessly polished. “I’m so glad to hear you say that.” He opened the passenger door for her.
“Thank you.” She slid into the passenger seat and was pleasantly surprised that the new car smell was still quite strong. The floor mats were clean and the door pockets weren’t shoved full of wadded up drive-thru napkins. Joshua was light years ahead of her other blind dates.
A short drive later they were seated in a cozy corner booth inside the Shanghai Sunset restaurant. The lighting was soft and subdued, to allow the small votive candle on the table to be the star. The décor of wooden booths and chairs upholstered in red fabric, against the dark cherry wall panels carved with scenes of temples and pagodas from the Far East, was both exotic and romantic. The gentle sound of a single lute, played softly from the ceiling speakers as they enjoyed their dinners.
As the waiter placed her order of house special fried rice on the table, she ignored the chopsticks and went straight for the standard utensils. “I never could master chop sticks.” She stabbed a shrimp with her fork and popped it into her mouth. “Mother always said my fingers were too stubby.”
Much like Vivienne, Joshua avoided the chopsticks as they always seemed to end up either in his lap, on the floor, or sometimes both. “This is so much better than those greasy little take out places in the city.”
“What city would that be?” She asked as her fork speared another shrimp off the blue and white patterned plate.
“Take your pick.” He winked at her.
“I’ve never lived anywhere but Cayuga Cove.” She revealed.
“There’s something to be said for having that kind of stability.” Joshua added as he finished the last of the noodles with a little slurp.
“I suppose you could look it that way.” She set her fork down across the plate and pulled the napkin from her lap. She dabbed her lips gently and quickly ran her tongue across her teeth to hopefully snag any wayward vegetables that might have become lodged in-between the spaces.
“The cities these days are getting more like war zones.” He added as he performed the same napkin ritual.
“I guess I should be thankful that Cayuga Cove is such a peaceful place. Why, you hardly ever hear a siren going down the street except during the Fourth of July parade.”
“That’s definitely something to be thankful for.” Their waiter cleared their plates and set a check billfold down on the table along with two fortune cookies. Joshua snagged it quickly and reached into his back pocket for his wallet.
“Let me leave the tip.” She offered.
He shook his head and smiled at her. “That just wouldn’t be right.”
Her heart fluttered again as she found herself not wanting the evening to come to an end so soon. “You are too generous.”
He tucked a credit card into the slot at the top of the billfold and the waiter appeared seconds later to whisk it away. Joshua picked up a fortune cookie and handed it to her. “But I insist you read your fortune cookie aloud.”
“That’s fair.” She opened the cellophane wrapper and cracked the cookie into two clean pieces. She unfolded the little slip of paper and squinted to read the tiny writing in the dim lighting. “You have hidden talents that will pay off in bed.” Her hands flew up to her mouth the moment she finished.
His eyes widened in surprise. “S
ay what?”
She suddenly felt like slapping her forehead in response. “It’s just a thing my best friend Kathy and I do. We always finish fortunes with the words ‘in bed’.” She felt her cheeks flush red. “Not that I was suggesting anything like that tonight.” She gingerly sipped her tepid Oolong tea while mentally chiding herself for blurting out such a suggestive thing.
“I think that’s cute.” He opened his with a single squeeze and ended up with several crumbled cookie bits. He fished out the fortune and held it close to the candle on the table. “Never say never”, he paused for dramatic effect, “in bed.”
As if in slow motion a nervous laugh escaped, along with some of the tea in her mouth, which created a small spit take much like the kind that had been the staple of so many comedy movies.
Joshua broke out into a hearty laugh and reached across the table to pull her hands away from her mouth. “Well that’s a first.”
She caught his hands in hers and their fingers intertwined. “This is why I don’t go out on many dates.”
The waiter returned with the billfold and credit card. “Is everything okay?”
Joshua nodded to her in response. “Would you care for more tea?”
She repressed a laugh. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Do come back.” The waiter smiled and left them alone with the votive candle, the cellophane wrappers, and the tea-soaked table cloth.
Chapter 3
One the best things about being an early riser was experiencing the gentle quiet of the town as she drove her little red car to work each morning. The sky transitioned from the soft tangerine of sunrise to a vibrant periwinkle blue as she pulled into her private parking location at the rear entrance to her bakery. It promised another fine September afternoon, the kind that just begged to be spent sipping cider at one of the local orchards.
As she walked up the three concrete steps that led to her back door, she skidded on a pile of greasy waxed papers and nearly toppled forward. “Not again.” She moaned.
The sanitation company, although prompt with their service, was getting terribly lax with cleaning up the trash that spilled out of their trucks as they lifted the nearby dumpsters to empty them. Just the other day, they had dropped an entire bag from the pizzeria that was two doors down, which spilled a mess of half-eaten crusts and half-finished sugary sodas all over the two parking spots that were designated for her business. She had cleaned up the disgusting mess on her own, not wanting to step on or over the revolting mix of trash.
Making a mental note to call the company and politely ask that they exercise more caution when removing waste, she fished the brass key out of her purse, tripped the lock, and stepped into the back supply room.
There were two days left before her grand opening and today started the first of the big stocking days to fill the store with the non-perishable items that would supplement her delicious baked goods.
But before any of that could be started, the first order of business was to have a steaming mug of English breakfast tea. She walked over to the large desk that was a mess of invoice papers, receipts, print-outs of recipes, and several paint color samples that she had passed on for the walls but liked enough to perhaps try in one of the bedrooms in her home. Hidden amongst the chaos, there was her trusty little electric kettle. As was the ritual each night, she filled it with water so it would be ready to go the next morning.
A few minutes later, with a mug firmly in her grip, she turned on the spotlights above the sales floor and looked over the progress she had made since securing the space a month ago.
Thanks to the beauty of the exposed brick wall on one entire side, she had saved money by only having to paint the opposite wall a pleasant shade of light yellow. It reminded her of a bright spring day and she instantly felt her mood elevated whenever she looked at it. She hoped her future customers would also feel inspired like that when they stepped in through the door and searched for the perfect item to satisfy their sweet tooth.
Along the exposed brick wall, she had installed simple chrome wire shelves to display the selection of various coffees and teas, some cute aprons and oven mitts, and a smattering of cookbooks that were still packed into large boxes in the back stockroom.
But the majority of the floor space was filled with her three glass display cases that would soon house decadent chocolate, vanilla, and peanut butter flavored whoopie pies. There were simple white trays that would display dozens of homemade cookies and brownies and vintage glass domes that would showcase the pies and cakes that would vary according to the season. But most importantly, her famous lemon-raspberry layer cake with white coconut frosting would take the prime location in the front display window. She had taken the blue ribbon two years in a row at the county fair with it.
Whenever a potluck dinner invite came in the mail, she knew her hosts would be disappointed if she arrived with anything but that. “You should sell this.” They would insist between chewing mouthfuls of her cake. It had taken plenty of time and effort, but at last she had followed their advice and now they would see it every time they passed by her store window.
As fall was gearing up to full swing, she had decided to go with apple and pumpkin themed baked goods for the start. If those were a hit, she could easily carry them over into October and early November before switching to the winter wonderland of Christmas baking.
Taking a seat at one of the three bistro-style tables that took up the remaining floor space, she opened a spiral-bound notebook that contained her ‘to do’ lists and went over the agenda for the day.
As she sipped her tea and let the liquid warm her throat, the peaceful morning was interrupted with the sound of a man and woman having some sort of argument.
She couldn’t help but wander over to her empty display window to see what all the fuss was about. She had a clear view of the couple arguing across the street and was shocked to see Joshua in his deputy uniform writing a ticket in front of Mona Clarke’s gray luxury sedan.
“This is outrageous!” She shrieked, her voice transmitting easily through the thin glass of Vivienne’s store. “I was only parking here for a minute. And on official city business, I might add.”
“Which is directly in front of a fire hydrant,” Joshua interrupted, “And clearly marked as a ‘no parking zone’ with several signs.”
Mona put her hands on her hips. “That’s because there is never any parking on this street for anyone thanks to all the tenants who live above the businesses.”
“I’m not the parking commission, ma’am.” Joshua finished the ticket and handed it to her with a black-gloved hand.
“Do you even know who I am?” She took a step toward him, defiantly.
“Mona Clarke. Fourteen hundred Presidential Circle.” He recited from memory.
“I’m the mayor’s wife and as I tried to tell you I was conducting vital city business when you so rudely interrupted me.” Her voice was stern and cold, as if she were addressing some petulant teenager.
“This vehicle isn’t one of the city fleet.” He reasoned.
“I’m doing my civic duty to save the taxpayers money by using my own vehicle and gasoline.” She sniffed.
‘That’s a hot one.’ Vivienne thought to herself as she took another sip of her tea and watched the argument continue to unfold outside. It was proving to be better than anything on daytime television these days.
“You can take it up with the city manager or the Mayor if you desire, Mrs. Clarke.” Joshua kept his voice flat and at a professional yet controlled volume.
“Why don’t you give tickets to all these cars that hog up the streets so people can’t shop?” She asked him. “Aren’t they supposed to use odd/even parking?”
“A blocked fire hydrant is a clear danger,” he insisted, “One that could cost lives if a fire broke out.” He gestured to the other cars around her. “Everyone else is legally parked.”
She snatched the ticket from his hand. “This isn’t over, you know. My hus
band is going to hear about this. He will personally visit Sheriff Rigsbee to let him know how displeased he is with this sort of nonsense.”
He tipped his hat to her. “You have a good morning Mrs. Clarke.”
She stomped away from him and yanked open her car door. “I wouldn’t get too cozy settling in here. This is a small town and people who make waves don’t usually end up staying terribly long.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear you make a threat against an officer of the law.” He warned her. “Now please move along.”
She disappeared into her car and slammed the door with enough force to make sure he knew she meant business. Vivienne couldn’t help but feel bad for Joshua who had the misfortune of seeing the real Mona Clarke. She kept her public persona up so well that it was rare to see her true colors. Kathy and Clara certainly weren’t exaggerating the other day at the diner.
As Joshua started to get into his patrol car he paused for a moment and then looked right at Vivienne.
She gave him a little wave and went to open her door to see if he wanted to come in and see her new store.
He nodded politely and then sped off in a hurry leaving her alone on Main Street once again.
She removed her hand from the door knob and sighed. “Must not be a good time.” She spoke to herself and went back to her lists.
* * *
The next time she glanced at her watch it was quarter to three in the afternoon. She took a step back to admire the wire shelves that were now filled with all the items from her stockroom. She had rearranged everything several times until deciding on the perfect placement for easy viewing and purchasing.
The echo that she had become so used to hearing inside the store was less noticeable as she walked over to the counter where her new register was installed. Next on her list was the tedious task of programming all the individual department buttons to help her keep track of inventory and sales. The clerk at the warehouse store had tried to steer her toward one of the new fancy ‘point-of-sale’ terminals, but she never was much of a fan of computers. True, she had grown up with them as a child of the 80’s, but they never seemed to like her and the feeling was mutual.