An Alpaca Witness

by B L Crumley

  “Oh, Charlee.” He lifted his hand and caressed my cheek. I stiffened under his touch. It didn’t feel right. Not anymore. And that hurt too. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me. And I—”

  I retreated a step, and his hand fell back to his side. “You threw it away,” my voice cracked.

  “I know. You have no idea what I would give to go back.” Moisture glistened in his eyes.

  My heart ached. “There is no going back.”

  His mouth pinched together.

  “I need to move on,” I said. “I forgive you, Kenny.”

  He shook his head, blinking to fight his emerging emotion. “I still love you.”

  No. Fern was wrong. I couldn’t do this.

  “I know it’s been ten years, and that I don’t deserve anything from you, but I need you to know that I still love you. I’ve always loved you.”

  He wasn’t being fair to me. My eyes filled with tears, and I didn’t try to fight them. “Then why did you cheat on me? And with her? Kenny, she’s not even a nice person. And she’s always disliked me.

  “You knew about every time she’d made fun of me! You say you’ve always loved me, but out of anyone that you could have betrayed me with, you chose her!” I used the sleeve of my sweater to wipe away the tears. I’m sure I had raccoon eyes now. “So, don’t tell me you loved me, because if you had, you would have never done that!”

  “I’m not going to make an excuse for what I did. Because there isn’t one. But I haven’t moved on from us, and I don’t know if I ever will.”

  This was killing me. He was literally killing me.

  “I know you haven’t moved on either, Charlee. And I hate that I’ve caused you so much pain, but selfishly I’m hoping that’s because you still care for me.” He reached for me again, but I shrugged him off.

  “Of course I care for you. Part of me still loves you…”

  His eyes lit with hope.

  “But that doesn’t mean we can be together,” I sniffed. A breeze kicked up, chilling me through my clothes. I turned around and started walking in the other direction toward my car.

  Kenny followed. “Why not?”

  I didn’t understand why he wasn’t getting this, as I had just given him the reason a few minutes ago. But then I realized love is blind. And stupid too, it seemed.

  That’s how it made me feel. Stupid for loving Kenny when he’d betrayed me and married someone else. Yet hating him at the same time. It’d been a miserable existence. And I was done with that. It might take some time, but Fern was right. I would get over this.

  “I think you know why,” I said sharply.

  “What? Because of Ashley? Nicky?” he asked, frustrated and confused.

  Fine, I’d spell it out for him. “Yes, because of Ashley and Nicky.”

  “But you said you forgave me,” he implored.

  “I have forgiven you. But forgiving doesn’t mean forgetting.”

  He latched onto my arm, pulling me to a stop. “Charlee, that’s not fair.”

  I tugged my arm free. “Life isn’t fair. And, Kenny, in case you’ve forgotten, you weren’t fair to me.”

  “So, this is it?” He threw up his hands. “It’s over, just like that?”

  “Kenny, it’s been over for ten years.” I shivered, chilled by the cool coastal air, and wrapped my arms around myself.

  “Charlee, why won’t you give me a chance? Give us a chance? We were so good together. Remember the plans we had. You were going to have your catering—”

  I couldn’t bear to hear another word. Without a parting glance I turned and sprinted across the street to my car. I quickly got inside, turned on the engine, and backed out of the parking space.

  I didn’t look back at Kenny, and was thankful he didn’t chase after me. I needed some time to think. Fern accused me of hiding from life and she may have been right. But there was a reason for it. It protected me from this.

  From being dragged back into my past by a man who now claimed he wanted to be my future. Because now I had to figure out what to do with these feelings — feelings that I wanted to bury and forget.

  Chapter Twelve

  On the drive back to Fern’s, my phone rang. When I saw it was my mother, I hesitated since I was still crying and didn’t want her to know. I sniffed a couple times and cleared my throat, then answered.

  “Charlotte!” my mom shrieked frantically. “Are you busy right now?”

  “Well, I’m driving.” I was relieved when my voice came out steady.

  “Where? You’re not going back to Portland, are you?” She sounded panicked.

  “No, just headed back to Fern’s.”

  “Oh good, I need your help.” Something crashed in the background. “Can you come over now?”

  “What was that?” I asked. Usually my mom was a model of poise and structure. It sounded like complete chaos had erupted.

  “Some kettles fell on the floor,” she groused. “Don’t worry, nothing broke. Not yet anyway. Can you come? I really need you,” she practically begged.

  While I didn’t have anything pressing to do (other than wallow in my misery, cry some more, and eat the rest of the caramels and fudge), I still wasn’t sure if spending time with my mom in my current emotional state was a good idea.

  I’m sure I was looking more puffy than normal, and it would only take a partially insensitive remark from her to put me over the edge. That and I couldn’t eat the rest of the candy at her house because that would guarantee a flippant comment, and I was really counting on a sugar binge to help me cope through the next few hours.

  “Charlotte? Are you still there?”

  “Yeah. What do you need help with?” I asked, a little anxious since she was in quite the tither.

  “I’m heading up a fundraiser for the library. It’s tomorrow,” she said breathlessly. “And I just got a call from Cake-N-Bake that they’re unable to donate anything for the auction. I was counting on them, since they’re the best bakery in town, and it’s such short notice—”

  “Okay, I’ll come. Give me ten minutes.”

  “Oh, Charlotte, you’re a lifesaver,” she sighed dramatically. “See you in a bit.”

  I hung up the phone and checked my rearview mirror for cops before making an illegal U-turn at the next intersection. Yeah, I know, shame on me.

  But traffic was light, and my parents lived in the opposite direction. When I arrived at my parents’ house, I pulled a compact from my purse and checked out my face. Mascara made a black river down my splotchy red cheeks. Lovely.

  I wiped off what I could with a few tissues I found in the middle console. Hopefully, my mom would be too distracted to notice. Then again, she noticed everything. The garage door was open, so I went in through the door that led to a mudroom off of the kitchen.

  “Hi, mom. What would you like me to make?”

  She turned from where she was sorting through recipes on the counter. Her gaze landed on my face and gasped. “Charlotte, you’ve been crying.” She rushed over to me. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  So much for her being too panicked to notice my distress. “I’m fine.” Although I wasn’t going to be if she called me Charlotte one more time. “I’m here to bake, so let’s get started.”

  Her eyebrows pinched together, displeased. “No, first you tell me what happened.”

  I exhaled and walked over to the dining room to drop my purse on a chair. “I ran into Kenny,” I confessed, peeling off my sweater and tossing it on my purse.

  “Oh,” was her one-word reply. But I knew what she meant. It was her way of saying I’m sorry and that sucks rolled into one, only she would never say the word sucks because it wasn’t proper. “Where did you run into him?”

  “Down at the port,” I replied, walking back to the kitchen to find an apron.


  “Oh,” she said again. This one meant, what were you doing there?

  I might as well tell her the truth. Well, part of the truth. My mom would unleash a tirade worse than Cole’s if she knew I was talking to potential suspects. “Fern asked me to meet her at the old tea shop, across from the bay.”

  My mom’s nose wrinkled. “That place was awful. I went there once after they opened. I always try to support local businesses, but the place smelled like weeds. Not weed, like marijuana, but I’m not sure if I really know what that smells like,” she prattled on. “Anyway, the place had a stinky scent, to put it mildly. I ordered an herb muffin. They didn’t say what kind, and I’m almost positive they put dandelions in it. It was gross.” She finally paused to take a breath. “But they’re closed now, so why were you there?”

  I sighed. I had a feeling this was going to be a long afternoon. At this rate, the cakes were never going to get baked, so I got straight to the point. “Fern wants me to move back and open up shop. Said she’d help get me started.”

  For once my mom had no words. Not even an “oh.” I continued. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do, but I told her I would think about it.”

  “You would consider moving back?” my mom asked, in seeming disbelief.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Maybe, I don’t know.”

  A smile transformed her delicate features. “Well, if I had known this, your dad and I would have offered this to you years ago.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. We’d love to have you come home.” She clasped her hands together. “Charlee, I’ve missed you so much. I’ve missed this. Us baking together. Talking like we used to. Are you seriously considering it? Because if you are, we’d be happy to help you get started.

  “Why, you’d run the Cake-N-Bake out of business!” She reached for a stack of recipes on the counter and handed them to me. “Although, it sounds like they might be managing that on their own,” she muttered.

  “What happened? You didn’t say why they couldn’t bake the cakes.”

  “Well, I didn’t hear this from them, but apparently the health inspector found some furry critters living in the supplies storage closet.”

  I shuddered. “As in rodents?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “I know, but if you come back, I won’t have to rely on them anymore.” She gave me an exaggerated smile.

  “Mom, you’re a great baker. You don’t need them.”

  “Charlee, with your dad being the mayor, I have other obligations now, and I don’t have time to bake. I’m too busy organizing everything.” She walked past me into the pantry.

  Like my father, my mom also seemed to forget that Rockfish Bay was not a metropolis, and took her duties as the mayor’s wife to a whole other level. I could appreciate their dedication for the town, but the rest of the family knew their motives weren’t entirely altruistic. My mom returned with an armful of baking ingredients.

  Taking a minute to shuffle through the recipes my mom had selected, I quickly decided on three classics: carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, triple layer German chocolate cake, and a New York cheesecake. Broad appeal, delicious, and simple enough that I wouldn’t be here all night making them.

  “So, what did Kenny have to say?” my mother asked casually, as she retrieved eggs and butter from the fridge.

  Darn, I was hoping she’d forgotten about that. “He said… he said a lot,” I eventually got out.

  “About?”

  “He said he loves me,” I blurted.

  My mom’s eyes grew round like saucers. “Oh, dear.” Yeah, that one meant holy crap. But she didn’t say crap either.

  “Yeah, I know.” I proceeded to spill the entire conversation I’d had with Kenny, ending with me making a mad dash for my car as he was still trying to… honestly, I’m not sure what Kenny had hoped to accomplish with that.

  Did he think I was going to jump into his arms, declare my undying love, and pick up like the last ten years never happened? Because I kind of felt like that’s what he thought. Why did God make men so stupid sometimes?

  I looked across the island at my mom, as she hadn’t said much. With her facial expression conveying a bit of anger and sympathy, I think I was maybe better off not knowing what she was thinking.

  “Kenny is an idiot,” she stated plainly. Wow, name calling. My mom was fired up. “He’s the reason you left us. And he thinks he can say sorry with a couple I love you’s thrown in and that you’ll take him back?”

  Oh, so that’s why she was upset. Because I’d left.

  Strange, how naive I’d been to never consider how my breakup with Kenny affected my family. I’d just assumed they didn’t care that much. I mean, sure, they felt bad for me, but I didn’t think about how my absence had hurt them. It had damaged my relationship with everyone, and because I was so wrapped up in my own despair, I’d selfishly only cared about my own misery.

  “Charlotte, it’s your life and I’m not going to tell you what to do.”

  Yes, she was.

  “But I think it would be a huge mistake for you to give him another chance. You treated him like royalty. And then you go off to college and culinary school so you can come back and make a better life for the both of you, and he goes and sleeps with the meanest girl in town. Ashley Wells is a spoiled brat. And any man who shows the slightest bit of interest in her should be avoided like the plague.”

  Hmm, now tell me what you really think, Mom.

  “I’m not getting back together with Kenny.”

  “Good,” she fumed, placing her hands on her hips.

  “Mom, do you think I would have been happy here?” I asked. “If Kenny hadn’t cheated, do you think I would have been happy quitting school and getting married?”

  “Charlotte, I’ve learned that happiness is what you make of it. But I can tell you that no man is going to make you happy. I think you may have regretted quitting college. And then you wouldn’t have gone to culinary school, which was also part of your dream. Kenny wanted you to choose. But he had a choice too. He could have moved to Portland and gotten a job until you finished and were ready to come back.”

  I shook my head. “Mom, Kenny would never leave this town.”

  “You’re right, he probably never will. But that’s what love does. It makes sacrifices. And he wasn’t willing to do that, even though you were willing to give up your dreams to be with him.”

  That’s because he had been my dream.

  “If you move back, are you going to be able to handle seeing Kenny?” she asked cautiously. What she meant was, are you going to be able to resist him?

  “I guess I’ll have to,” I replied.

  “Well, there are other men here,” she smiled slyly.

  I rolled my eyes. “Mom, nothing is going to happen with Cole.”

  “Who said I was talking about Cole?” She feigned ignorance.

  “The dinner,” I said dryly.

  “Oh yes, that,” she grimaced. “It was very unfortunate timing with you finding a dead body and that whole business with Fern and the illegal alcohol. But,” she brightened. “If you’re living here, you’ll have plenty of time to get to know him under more normal circumstances.”

  Here we go again. “I don’t even know if I’m going to move back.”

  “I know, but you’re considering it, and if there was ever a good reason to come back, Cole’s name is written all over it,” she winked.

  I ignored her last comment and focused on the recipe in front of me. If I pretended I was annoyed, she’d eventually move on. Surprisingly, I wasn’t upset. Despite that I was almost thirty and my mom was still telling me what I should do, this afternoon was the most heartfelt conversation we’d had in years.

  And I missed this. It was so easy for me to get caught up i
n my mother’s critical comments, but I knew that she loved me. And if I lived here, we would have a chance to mend our relationship, which would be good for both of us. As long as she didn’t tell me I was puffy.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As I lumbered down the stairs the next morning, I could hear Fern humming an off-pitch melody.

  “Well, hello, sleepyhead.” Fern took in my bedraggled appearance. “Rough night? I didn’t even hear you come in.”

  “Yeah,” I yawned. “My mom needed help baking for a fundraiser, since the bakery backed out on her last minute.”

  “Oh.” Fern turned back to the stove to grab the tea kettle. “I heard they had rats!” she hooted. “Maybe they’ll be closed for good this time. Hey, less competition for you,” she grinned excitedly.

  I made my way to the breakfast bar, and hoisted myself up on a stool. “After yesterday, I don’t know if I’m cut out for running my own business.”

  “Why do you say that?” Fern poured me a cup of coffee and set it on the counter in front of me.

  “Because I’m exhausted.” Leaning forward, I inhaled the very black brew. “Fern, would you please get me some creamer?”

  “Sure thing, hon.” She started back to the fridge. “You work long hours at your job. I think what wore you out was your mother.” Fern returned with the creamer and a bowl of whipped cream and a spoon.

  Yeah, it was that kind of morning.

  “You may have a point. When I got there, she said she only needed three cakes, but then she got a call from someone handling the refreshments, and said the bakery was supposed to make twenty dozen cookies.”

  Fern’s hands landed on her hips. “Don’t tell me your mom had you making cookies all night!”

  I nodded, unable to speak since I’d taken a giant bite of whipped cream. I swallowed, then said, “Yes. That’s why I didn’t get home until almost two in the morning.”

  And then I’d fallen into bed exhausted, yet couldn’t sleep. Kenny’s words kept swirling in my mind. And I’d eaten my fair share of cookie dough, which sat like a brick in my stomach. “Anyway, I plan to be lazy today.”