4 Return To Sender: A Cat Cozy Mystery: A Mail Carrier Cozy Mystery

Home > Mystery > 4 Return To Sender: A Cat Cozy Mystery: A Mail Carrier Cozy Mystery > Page 2
4 Return To Sender: A Cat Cozy Mystery: A Mail Carrier Cozy Mystery Page 2

by Tonya Kappes


  “You be good while me and Buster head out to the farmhouse to see Clara,” I told Rowena on my way down the hallway to our bedroom, peeling off the sweatpants. I took the yoga pants out of the Tranquility Wellness bag and decided to pour myself into them.

  Pour was about right.

  “Oh, dear gawd,” I groaned when I turned to look at myself. Even Rowena came in to see what I was up to. “Two things that tell the truth, Rowena,” I said, taking another look at my butt, “children and yoga pants.”

  Quickly, I took them off and threw them back into the bag before tossing them into the back of my closet. Out of sight, out of mind.

  The slightest things really did make a mood sour, so instead of dwelling on it, I put my sweatpants back on. Clara didn’t care what her granny wore.

  “Now, you be good,” I told Rowena and grabbed the keys to my car along with the box of food my mom gave me to take over to Julia when I delivered the mail to the Wallflower Diner, our family-owned restaurant on Main Street.

  Rowena, satisfied, really couldn’t give two cents what I did now since she’d gotten her treats. She had her leg straight up in the air and licked all her leg, down to her toenails.

  “Are you trying to give me some sort of subliminal message about how good and limber you are, or how much better at yoga you are than me?” I questioned her with a side-eye.

  Of course, she responded by rolling over onto her back and contorting into a position that would require me to see an emergency chiropractor.

  With the door locked behind me and an excited Buster trotting along next to me, we got into my car and rolled out of downtown into the country where the old family farm was located.

  Buster kept his head out the window the entire time. He seemed steady enough, but I still put a hand on him for safekeeping.

  The farmhouse and farm had been passed down to me from my parents after I’d gotten pregnant with Grady. Recently, I’d done the same after I found out Julia was pregnant with little Clara.

  They’d lived over the family diner in the small one-bedroom apartment until they’d moved out here.

  With each new day, Julia had been doing some major renovations, thanks to Mac Tabor. He was a brilliant architect and loved Grady and Julia like his own. That’s what made our breakup so hard, but it would be fine. That’s what I told myself.

  The long gravel driveway was long gone now that they’d moved in. It was one of the first things to go because Grady didn’t want Clara playing in gravel in fear she’d skin her knee.

  I agreed. I’d only had Grady, and I didn’t mind him skinning his knee. After all, he was rough and tumble. Gravel or no gravel, Grady always had some sort of cut.

  Not for my sweet Clara.

  The tires hummed over the old cattle grate that was still at the entrance of the farm, which brought back a lot of memories of my childhood when my daddy had many cows and the grate was supposed to keep them in the property. One or two got out on occasion, but for the most part, it did its job of keeping them in.

  The excitement bubbled up in me the closer I got to the farmhouse, only to be busted as soon as I saw Mac’s truck there.

  I sucked in a deep breath and thought about the images Peaches Partin put in our heads at the end of yoga class that made me take a little catnap. Unfortunately, I realized I’d fallen asleep every single time she started to give us an image to focus on.

  I sucked in another deep breath and opened the door. Buster darted over me and bolted out the door, leaving me to fend for myself alone. But I was armed with a gift for Clara and food for them. Something Mac would never do.

  But dang it if it wasn’t something Lucy Drake would do.

  I nearly had a full-blown anxiety attack when I looked in the screen door of the house and saw my grandbaby in Lucy Drake’s arms, with Mac smiling and goggling over Lucy’s shoulder.

  My heart started to palpitate. My breath quickened. My mind raced with fear of how much Clara appeared to be enjoying them, wondering if I was going to be good enough. Pretty enough. Small enough. My gut wrenched, and I thought I was going to be sick right there on their front porch. My front porch. My family front porch. Grady’s front porch.

  My palms began to sweat, and I could feel myself making an exit plan. A quick getaway, which I’d become very good at over the past few months since Mac and I had called it quits.

  Leave it to Buster to bark, making everyone look at me. I could see it now. Mac’s thoughts as his eyes darted back and forth between me and Lucy.

  Wow. Look at Lucy compared to Bernie. What was I thinking? Lucy’s hair is so long and pretty. She looks great in these yoga pants (which she was still in). Poor Bernie. She’s completely let herself go in those sweatpants (I’m sure Lucy told him she’d seen me and how I was snoring). Glad I got out when I did.

  “Bernie!” Mac finally took the initiative to break the most disturbing and very uncomfortable silence. “There’s the maw-maw.”

  Maw-maw? Like hee-haw or something so hillbilly like that? No, thank you.

  “I don’t…” I started to protest.

  “Mom, Julia and I’ve been teaching Clara to call you Maw-maw and showing her the cute photo album you gave her.” Grady seemed awfully pleased with the name.

  He opened the screen door.

  “Who came up with…” I was about to protest again when Lucy Drake opened her big mouth.

  “You’re the perfect maw-maw,” she giggled. “Look, you’re already bringing food.” She lifted her thin fingers to her tiny little skintight yoga shirt, placing a flat palm on her chest. “I had a maw-maw, and she did the same thing. But I have to tell you it wasn’t good for her hips or mine.” She winked then looked at little Clara. “Isn’t that right, sweet Clara?” Lucy spoke baby talk to my baby, causing me to hard swallow the bitter words I so desperately wanted to spit into her perfectly made-up face. I was only worried it would affect my Clara.

  The more she bounced Clara on her skinny hip bone, the more Clara giggled and smiled right back at her.

  “Mom, you okay?” Grady took me by the arm.

  “I’m fine.” I handed him the box. “This is from your grandmother.”

  “Grandmother?” Grady laughed at my formality because we didn’t call her that at all. He leaned in like he was giving me a kiss but whispered in my ear, “Are you okay with this?”

  I grabbed his hand and squeezed it with a big smile on my face.

  “Let Maw-maw see her little Clara.” I marched over in my oversized sweatpants and sweatshirt, plucking Clara right out of Lucy’s arms.

  “Thank you for the food.” Julia got up from the chair and came over to hug me. “I’m starving.”

  I followed her into the kitchen where they’d recently torn down a lot of the old farmhouse walls to make their living space and kitchen open concept.

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea Mac was bringing her.” Julia’s brows furrowed, and she gave me and Clara another big hug.

  “No problem,” I said in a happy voice with a big smile on my face and looked at those sweet little cupid bow lips Clara had. Her skin was perfect, and she had the bluest of eyes. “I’ve got to get used to it.”

  “Maybe you need to explore why it bothers you.” Julia opened the cabinets and took out a couple of plates. “Is it possible you do want to spend your life with him?”

  “Ahhh, we don’t need to talk about boys, do we?” I asked Clara, and she smiled so big.

  “What are y’all talking about in here?” Lucy Drake made an appearance. “The boys are talking remodel, and I don’t get into those things.”

  “I was just getting me and Grady a plate of food.” Julia reached in to get a third dish. “Would you like some? Plenty for everyone.”

  The food did look good, and I was about to say I’d take a couple of scoops, but then…

  “No.” Lucy waved her off. “I just got out of yoga, and I can never eat after a soul workout.” She turned her attention to me. “Right, Bernie?”

&
nbsp; “Yeah. None for me.” It was hard to say through a mouthful of water. “I’m definitely not hungry.” I tried to cover up the loud growl coming from my gut and not notice Julia looking at my stomach.

  “Ohh.” Lucy wiggled her shoulders. “You’re getting a great gut workout if your stomach is gurgling and you’re not hungry.”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged and sat down with Clara in my arms. “Julia, she’s perfect.” I decided to focus on what was right with the world, and it was right in my arms.

  “She’s pretty great. And her Uncle Mac is just so excited about her.” I could feel Lucy standing over me. “I hope you don’t mind I came with him. I was at yoga, with Bernie”—she said it like it made it better—“and I just popped over to Mac’s house. Unannounced, of course, when I found him getting into his truck.” She snorted and sat down in the chair next to me. “When he told me he was coming here, I sorta invited myself.”

  “You know how it is around Sugar Creek Gap.” Julia put both plates on the family farmhouse table where we’d gathered every single Sunday since I was born and to this day to have our weekly family supper.

  That included Mac too. He still came every Sunday, but if he started to bring Lucy, I’d have to put a halt to him coming. That was that.

  Julia continued, “You can just stop by without calling or anything. Our door is always open.”

  I scowled. That was one invitation Lucy Drake would burn in her perfect-sized brain. In fact, I stared at her brain and wondered if she had any gray matter like I did. Or that’s what Dr. Hunter told me I had.

  “See those little white specs?” Dr. Hunter had asked me at my annual checkup, where she did a full-body midlife checkup along with a full blood panel just to make sure I was aging alright. “You don’t need to worry about those. That’s just aging brain.”

  That certainly didn’t make me feel good. That was also the same visit where she’d told me I needed to do better exercise for my bones and how yoga and Lucy Drake entered my weekly routine.

  Yeah. I saw Lucy Drake when I delivered the radio station mail, but I did everything in my power to deliver it when she was on air and not somewhere she’d see me.

  So, whenever I was at the Wallflower Diner, just a few doors down from WSCG, and Lucy came on after a song, I’d hightail it down there to deliver the mail. No different than thinking I could avoid Mac and his architecture firm and house by delivering in the afternoon.

  Julia was right about one thing. Maybe I did need to explore why this little situation with Lucy and Mac bothered me so much.

  But not tonight. Tonight, I was going to visit with my little Clara.

  “Who is Maw-maw’s girl?” I asked Clara in a baby voice as I snuggled her closer.

  If I was going to be a maw-maw, I was going to be the best damn maw-maw in the south. You could bet your grits on that.

  Chapter 3

  Iris was laughing so hard through the phone after I told her about Lucy Drake telling me how my gut health was awesome due to the yoga I’d done before going to see Clara, that I had to take the phone from my ear in fear I’d lose my hearing.

  Right now, that was about the only body part working.

  “That is the funniest thing.” Iris couldn’t stop herself. “I bet you were about to kill that woman.”

  “That’s really not the worst part.” I buttoned up my blue mail carrier shirt and headed down to the kitchen where my morning brewed coffee was a welcoming smell. “Grady insists Clara calls' me Maw-maw.”

  Just saying the words nearly made me gag.

  “For heaven’s sake!” Iris squealed in delight. “Stop making me laugh. My stomach is killing me from yoga.”

  While she continued to hoot and carry on, I did my morning ritual with the fur babies before filling up a to-go mug and heading out the door into the dark morning.

  “You might have to have a talk with Grady about making sure he texts you when Mac is over.” Iris made a good point. “But Julia is right. You do need to explore why it bothers you so much since you’re the one who called it off between you two.”

  I changed the subject. “Are you at the bakery?” I’d spent all night thinking about this, and I didn’t want my first thoughts of the day to be about it, especially when I’d not gotten any sort of divine intervention on why I did feel the way I felt.

  Trust me when I said that I’d prayed, screamed, and cried all night long to find some sort of peace in the matter.

  “I am. A full day ahead of deliveries. So many birthdays in the summer, which goes to show just what couples do when they are cooped up in the winter.” Iris always had a funny way of looking at things. “If I’m not there when you deliver my mail, make sure you get the outgoing bills from Geraldine.”

  Geraldine Workman was an employee of Iris’s and mainly worked the counter.

  “I will.” I hung up, quickly crossed over Main Street, and walked behind the post office where the employee entrance and the slew of LLV (short for lifelong vehicles) were. “Hey there, Nick Kirby. What a bright way to start my day.”

  Nick had been one of Grady’s high school friends. Instead of going off to college, he got his mechanics certificate. That kid could fix anything. He was as handy as a pocket on a shirt when it came to farm equipment breaking down.

  If I fed him a good meal, he’d fix just about anything.

  Now that he’s grown up, like all these boys seemed to have done, he co-owned the local mechanics shop where he rented garage space just a couple of blocks from downtown, which just so happened to be on the border of my third loop, making them not on my route.

  “Mrs. Butler.” He went to hug me but pulled back. He showed me his hands. “I’m all dirty, and you look so clean in your mail outfit.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I put my arms out. “I don’t care, and I could use a hug this morning.”

  Nick smiled and wrapped me up in a big grizzly bear hug like he did when he was a kid.

  “How’s your mama and them? I’ve not seen them in a long time, now that you kids are all grown up.” I looked up at him.

  Another thing. These little boys had all grown taller than me too.

  “They are good. In fact, my mom bought Clara a present and said she was going to drop it off once Julia got back on her feet.” He smiled, and the dimples in his cheeks deepened. He shook his head, pulling the towel out from the mechanic’s overalls to wipe his hands. “I still can’t believe Grady Butler is a dad.”

  “He did good, kiddo.” I had that stupid happy grin on my face that I’d seen so many other grandmothers have. “How ’bout you? You seeing anyone?”

  “Nah.” By the way he said it, I could tell he was lying. “No one serious. Not yet. But when I do, I’ll let you know. But that means you have to stop by the garage more than once a month.”

  “Now that I live in town, I walk everywhere and these”—I looked down and wiggled my feet—“do not require gas or service.”

  Service was a stretch, but he didn’t need to know how they ached.

  “You were always so fun. Clara is going to be one lucky grandkid.” He pointed to the old mail trucks. “The government isn’t paying me to stand around and gab this early. I’ve got to get some of these vehicles running.”

  “Yep.” I looked at the old things. “The government won’t replace them. That’s why they’re called lifelong vehicles.” I nodded and waved him off. “Tell your parents to stop by and see me.”

  “Mama would love that. Have a good day. It’s supposed to be gorgeous.” He plunged back into the guts of one of the little cars as I headed inside to get my first loop of mail.

  The Sugar Creek Gap Nursing Home and Senior Living Facility.

  The facility was located behind the post office which made it super easy as my first loop of the day. After I filled the residents’ mailboxes there, I would stop back by the post office to grab the mail for my second loop, which included all the downtown shops and my street of a few houses.

  Today, the
nursing home went by much quicker than usual. My dear friend who was always waiting on me, Vince Caldwell, had taken a month-long vacation to visit his son out west. Vince wasn’t in the care facility department; he was in the condos located on the property. In fact, my parents had moved out there after they were built.

  It was perfect for independent living, and there was very little yard to maintain, though my mom about threw a duck fit when the community didn’t allow her to plant whatever flowers she wanted in the front yard, even though her backyard was a flowering oasis.

  Filling the communal mailboxes was easy and I was on my way in no time. Especially since no one was even awake at this hour.

  Plus, without the distraction, I would get my mail route delivered earlier so I could meet Julia at the doctor’s office to babysit Clara while she went in for her health check. This was going to be a big one too. The doctor was supposed to clear her to go back to work. I couldn’t help but worry what that meant for Clara. I’d tried six ways from Sunday to work my finances so I could retire and keep her myself when Julia went back to work. But Richard didn’t leave me in any shape financially, and I’d given the only real thing I owned to Grady, which was the farm. And I’d not been at the post office long enough to draw any sort of good retirement, so my worries would have to stay until Julia figured out what she was going to do.

  The thought of that precious baby getting her hair pulled by some mean child or even the thought of one of them giving her a running nose just hurt me to my core.

  I shook it off and grabbed the next loop of mail, sticking it into my mail carrier bag and off I went on the rest of my morning route. The downtown businesses were on the left side of Main Street as I walked toward Short Street. The old mill was located at the far end across from Short Street, which still had a flowing creek that ran along the right side of the street, making the area a historic sight and unavailable for anyone to build on. But on the other side of the old mill wheel was the courthouse, fire and sheriff’s department, as well as the town’s library and funeral home. After those shops’ mail were delivered, I would head down Short Street to Little Creek Road, where I’d deliver my neighbor’s mail.

 

‹ Prev