by Tonya Kappes
“Julia is in the hospital with premature labor. They don’t think she’ll go into labor, and they are trying to stop the contractions. It happened in the middle of the night, and I didn’t want to alarm you because there’s nothing you can do.”
“Oh my God, Grady,” I gasped. My eyes filled, and tears slowly fell down my cheeks. Iris hurried over to see what was happening. “Julia is in the hospital.”
“Are you talking to Mac?” Grady asked.
“No, Aunt Iris.” Technically Iris wasn’t his aunt, but she was the closest thing to an aunt and always treated him as such. “How is Julia?”
“She’s hanging in there. Trying to meditate and all that business. Using all the techniques she’s been learning at Tranquility Wellness.” I could hear the worry in his voice. “I think it’s the stress of Angela Hafley practically accusing Julia of killing Florence that sent her into premature labor.”
“I’m going to come right now.” I stood up.
“Yes. Forget about the cake.” Iris must’ve felt the need to let me off the hook. “I’ll call down at the post office and tell them you need a replacement, and I’ll take Buster home.”
Iris always jumped in feetfirst. I loved her so much for that.
“No, Mom. We are asking you to stay where you are. Finish your route, and I’m sure we’ll be out of here by four.” Grady sounded like he was certain everyone was going to be okay.
“What about the baby?” I had to ask.
“She’s fine. Perfect size if something did happen…”
“Did you say she?” I really started to cry.
“Yeah. The doctor let it slip in the middle of the night when they were doing all those ultrasounds.” I could hear the smile and joy in Grady’s voice. “A little girl, Mom. A baby girl.”
“It’s a girl.” I looked at Iris, crying. I mean ugly crying. “You’re going to be a wonderful daddy. And if you’re sure you don’t want me to come, I’ll stay here. I will let you get settled, but I insist on bringing something from the diner after my knitting class.”
“We would love that.” Grady and I said a few more things before I got off the phone.
“This calls for a celebration!” Iris smacked her hands together.
I wasn’t feeling like too much of a celebration yet.
“What? Oh, Bernie. Listen to Grady. The doctors are going to send her home this afternoon. Women always go into premature labor, and you always hear about those medicines they give them to stop the labor so they can continue to full term.” Iris spoke like she was an expert, but in reality she claimed she was allergic to children and that’s why she’d never had one.
“Here.” Iris held up a small round cake she’d been drawing the most gorgeous icing flowers on. She had used the basket-weave technique around the double-layer strawberry cake, which was one of my favorites.
“Gorgeous.” The bold colorful flowers popped off the white icing background and were just too pretty to eat. “Someone is going to love this.”
“That someone is a new granddaughter!” In a flash, Iris cut two big slices and put each one on a separate plate. “And to our friendship, the icing on the cake of life.”
“Cheers.” We laughed and tapped our forks together before we both dug into the delicious strawberry delight.
Chapter 15
I’d like to say the cake was the perfect celebration and helped me get my head on straight, but nothing was going to fix me until I put my eyes on Julia and my granddaughter in that belly of hers.
Still, I did exactly what Grady had wished, which was extremely hard since I was his mom and he was my man-child. Iris was right. I had to trust that Grady knew best, and seeing them tonight was my plan.
I’d even decided to be nice to Courtney since I’d been an awful neighbor and accused her of murdering her own aunt. The entire situation with my grandbaby had really put things into perspective.
I left the wagon full of Courtney’s mail on the sidewalk with Buster standing guard. Or at least it looked like he was, but really, he had no clue. I took the cake into the community center.
The hall was decorated with hot-pink and pale-pink balloons, banners, and glittery gold signs that read HAPPY GRADUATION TIFFANY.
“Hello?” I hollered out into the center when I didn’t see a soul around. The clock on the wall told me it was lunchtime, and I was sure anyone working here today had gone to grab a bite. Maybe I’d see someone when I delivered the mail at the Roasted Bean or the diner.
I’d deliberately skipped the diner so I wouldn’t have to tell my parents about Julia and why she might’ve gone into premature labor. I couldn’t bear the thought that it was because of me snooping around and making the situation even more difficult by going on the mission impossible with Iris while Angela was at the farmhouse.
There was a table with a pink tablecloth flowing down to the floor. On top of the table were small plates and forks. It looked like a cake-table-slash-gift-table. There was a hot-pink birdcage their guests could slip cards into instead of just handing them to Tiffany or laying them on the table.
Grady and Julia had had something similar at their wedding. In fact, they’d had their wedding in the exact same place. And now they were going to bring a daughter into this world. My heart was so filled with joy, but also despair. To think Julia was so worked up about Florence’s murder that she went into premature labor really lay heavy in my gut.
Julia said she didn’t do it, and I believed her…only…why was she stressing out about it? She’d not been charged. The only thing I could think of was if she knew something more…or worse.
“No.” I shook my head and put the cake on the table, leaving it there. “I refuse to believe Julia had anything to do with Florence’s murder,” I said to Buster when I walked outside.
“Florence’s murder?” Matilda Garrison caught me off guard when she passed by.
“Matilda, hi.” My voice rose an octave. “I’m sorry. I was mumbling to Buster. But Florence’s murder is awful.”
She gave Buster a couple of pats while we walked next door to her coffee shop.
“I was just down at the post office. I thought I’d missed you.” Matilda held the door for me while I was busy digging around my mailbag and trying to walk at the same time.
Not an easy thing to do.
“I switched up my route today so I could bring Buster with me. I’m sorry.” It was so funny how people kept their eye on my schedule.
“I’m just glad you’re okay with Florence’s murder next door.” She and I stepped inside.
“You heard?” Not that I didn’t think word got around fast, but Matilda wasn’t one to gossip.
She was a hip young woman who never even said a foul word about anyone. I’d never seen her stick her nose into anything but her coffee beans.
She was so cool that all the high school kids loved to come and hang out with her. The dreadlocks she wore in her gorgeous long black hair were quickly becoming a fashion statement with a few of the young women.
Matilda was one of those gals who’d grown up in Sugar Creek Gap but moved away to go to school. She’d attended an actual roasting school located in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. After she completed school, she worked there and saved up enough money to come back home and open her own shop. She was like Grady. She loved Sugar Creek Gap and wanted to come home to give back.
“Let me get Buster a pupette.” Matilda knew Buster loved the cream dog treat. “Can I get you anything?”
“I was going to grab a caramel latte with extra whip.” I looked around at the tables in the store’s front, to the left of where I was standing.
There were a lot of customers, and I loved seeing how well Matilda had done since she opened.
I stood at the long counter on the right side with some barstools and remembered how the building had been an old-time soda fountain when I was a kiddo. It’d been empty since Grady had gone to college and stayed that way until a couple of years ago, when
Matilda bought it. She had kept most of the interior to revive it.
“Look at your hair.” The familiar squeal made my skin crawl. “It’s fabby! Don’t you think Tiffany looks great, Mac?”
Mac? Ugh. I slowly turned my head around to look over my shoulder and noticed the couple I’d not seen in the corner table when I’d come in. Lucy and Mac.
What on earth happened to his afternoon meetings? Did he all of the sudden change up his schedule?
“Thank you. I felt like I needed a change, and Matilda braided my hair.” Tiffany Franklin stood in front of them, blocking their view of me. She had on a waist apron I’d seen Matilda wear before.
“Hey, I’m not going to be able to wait,” I whispered over the counter. I had to get out of there and deliver Mac’s mail before he went back or even worse…saw me.
Not sure if she even heard me, I turned around and kept my head down as I darted toward the door.
“I’m sorry,” a person with a lower voice said when I came nose to chest with him.
“My fault.” I took the blame. My face flushed when I looked up and saw I’d nose-planted right into Alvie Franklin.
“Well…well…well…” I was sensing a little sarcasm in his voice. “If it isn’t our very own Columbo. Our little miss nosy.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.” I stepped to the right to get around him and out the Roasted Bean door.
He stepped right.
I stepped left.
He stepped left.
“I think you might have some explaining to do to me and my daughter. Not to mention a few apologies.” He lifted his head and yelled to Tiffany, “Ain’t that right, Tiff?”
“It sure is, Dad.” She glared at me with teenage-girl eyes that would strike me dead. “It’s bad enough to be humiliated in church when I didn’t get the scholarship, let alone be humiliated in public when someone accuses you and your family of murder.”
“I’m sorry, I have to go.” I pointed out the door.
“You’re not going anywhere until you apologize to my daughter,” he seethed. “Angela Hafley came down to the community center a little while ago and questioned me on all sorts of things. Including how I have an alibi. Go on. Apologize.”
“I’m waiting.” Tiffany put her hand on her cocked hip. Mac and Lucy both stared at me.
I noticed Mac looked down at the table, but Lucy watched the show.
“You want me to apologize to you for what? You showed up at Florence’s house the night she was murdered and demanded to know where she was. When her husband told you, you went over there, only to grab my son’s shovel out of the back of his truck and use it to hit Florence over the head, killing her, all because your daughter didn’t win the scholarship, making the mother of my granddaughter a suspect.” I jabbed my finger at him. “You have no one to blame when Angela checks out your alibi and realizes you’re a murderer.”
“I’m sorry, Bernie.” Matilda walked over with my and Buster’s drinks. “I was just down at the department when I met you outside. I was going to confirm that Tiffany and her dad were here that night for a few hours with me, trying to salvage my freezer items since our electricity had gone out and the generator didn’t come on. This old building isn’t the greatest in storms, and Mr. Franklin, being a handyman, was very helpful in getting the generator to kick in.”
“Bernadette has finally lost her marbles,” I heard Lucy loudly whisper to Mac.
I sucked in a deep breath and lifted my chin in the air.
“I’m sorry I misled Angela into thinking you could’ve had something to do with Florence’s murder.” I slowly shifted toward Tiffany. Out of my peripheral vision, I could see Mac’s outline. I felt so stupid. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the scholarship, Tiffany.”
When I turned back around, Alvie had already moved out of the way of the door, giving me freedom to leave.
I sucked in a deep breath and felt the warm air fill my lungs.
“I’m going to take you home right after we deliver the rest of this mail,” I told Buster. “Then I’m going to take Courtney a piece of the cake before I go to knitting class. After that I’m going to go see my son and his wife.”
Buster didn’t care what I had to say. He was just happy to have the treat Matilda had made him.
“I guess we can assume Mac is dating Lucy because they’ve been inseparable since the clogging festival.” I could feel myself starting to feel a little sad and kind of out of sorts.
After that, I delivered to the rest of the shops on Main Street, excluding the Wallflower Diner, figuring I’d just stop by there before knitting and grab a bite to eat. That’s when I’d take my parents their mail.
Like a good boy, Buster was happy to get home. Rowena was happy to see me only because her kibble had gotten low. Forget there were some morsels still in there. She liked to have her bowl full.
Chapter 16
It only took me a couple of minutes to get the babies settled to be alone for a few hours. I still needed to deliver the mail to the neighbors on my street. It was a perfect late afternoon to do that on my walk over to Social Knitwork.
“You two be good.” I opened the closet door and grabbed the knitting bag Leotta had given me with all my supplies. “I’ve got to get my knitting skills perfected now that we know Julia is really moving along,” I told the dog and the cat.
Buster wiggled and jiggled in delight at just the sound of my voice. Rowena yawned and sauntered back to the bedroom, where I’m sure she’d not be seen again until tomorrow at breakfast.
Unfortunately I had to take my mail carrier bag, too, since I needed to deliver the street’s mail. I did leave a little early so I could go by the diner.
“What on earth?” I looked over at Courtney’s and noticed a U-Haul moving truck parked in her driveway. It hadn’t been there a few minutes ago when I’d come home. “Hey, Courtney,” I called to her when I saw she’d pushed open the door with the stopper to make it stay open.
“Hi, Bernadette.” She didn’t seem unhappy with me. After all, I’d practically named her a killer too. “I guess Mac told you that I’m moving home.”
“He didn’t say a word.” I dragged the mail cart behind me with her packages on them. I was somewhat happy with her telling me she was moving so I didn’t have to lug this thing around for much longer. “I do have your mail and a piece of cake.”
“Piece of cake!” Her eyes shot open. “I’ll take it.” She waved me up.
I put my mail carrier bag on the sidewalk outside of her gate. It was awkward trying to maneuver everything at once, and I wasn’t going to be there long. And I had to admit, I was happy to see her leaving town for Grady’s sake.
“Some packages and some cake.” I dropped the handle and handed her the single-serve cake box Iris had given me. “This was actually a sort of peace offering. Piece of cake for peace.” I laughed at my corny joke. “I know. Such a mom thing.”
“It’s funny. I’m sorry you were upset with my friendship with Grady, but honestly, like I told Julia, it was nothing more than that. She was just so angry, and when I teased and called her Judy, like Grady had told me they joked when her hormones were off, she kinda went off the deep end.” Courtney flipped open the box and smelled the contents.
“Yeah. Hormones can do funny things when you’re pregnant.” I wasn’t giving her a pass, but I knew if she’d told Angela Hafley all of this, it did make Julia look like she killed Florence so Courtney would keep her word and leave town.
Exactly what she was doing. Fear knotted in my gut.
“Anyways, does Grady know you are moving?” I started to unload the cart one package at a time. “I hate to pile onto your already big pile of boxes.”
There were boxes in the house I could see from here.
“Come on in. It’s a little hot out here, and I want to grab a fork.”
I followed her inside and stood in the family room while she walked into the kitchen. “Grady doesn’t know. I didn’t even tell the
school board yet. I just wanted to get out of here. I only have a certain time to get the U-Haul back, or they charge you an arm or a leg.”
She rambled on and on about her family charity. I couldn’t stop myself from looking inside some of the open boxes that I’d delivered this week. They were stacked up near a sewing machine, which sat on top of a table along with a fax machine.
Monica was right about the x-ray machine at work and the contents being fabric.
Papers were strewn all over the place.
“They are having a girl,” I told Courtney when she came back with her fork. I’d meant to leave my knitting bag next to my mail carrier bag but forgot. I dragged the falling strap up on my shoulder. “Julia had some contractions, but the doctor has gotten them stopped now. After knitting class, I’m going to go over there to see them.”
“A girl? Grady will go crazy. Tell them I said congratulations.” She took a bite of the cake and then pointed it at her sewing machine. “I do sewing and knitting. Too bad I’m moving, I was looking forward to going to Social Knitwork to shop.”
She reached in one of those boxes and took out the photo album. She flipped it open.
“I’ve been sewing blankets for families who have become recipients of our family charity.” She showed me the most gorgeous quilts and blankets. “I use their child’s old clothing or high-school-logo’ed shirts to make them. So when we send the kids off to college, they remember where they come from and come back to give back.”
“You sound exactly like your aunt Florence.” I couldn’t help but make the comment. “Grady was a recipient of her scholarship she helped fund at church.” I was about to excuse myself when I noticed the painting Wes Rogers had stolen from Florence’s house per Courtney’s request.
“You got the painting?” I questioned.
“Yeah. Can you believe after all that?” She must’ve devoured the cake, because she closed the lid and sort of smashed the box. “Zeke didn’t want anything, but I did give him a few thousand dollars to seek treatment for his gambling. I really do believe he was in love with Aunt Florence. For the life of me, I still can’t see why she’d marry him.”