Lethal Suds

by Sophia Barton

Once she felt steadier, she went to work on closing the shop. She turned on the alarm and stepped out, enjoying the light-scented air that hit her face. She didn’t mind the many smells inside the shop, but it was a relief to smell the ocean and nothing more.

  “Abigail? Abigail Kinsman?” someone asked.

  Abigail startled and turned to face the newcomer. It took her a second to recognize him, but she did. “Lee?”

  Lee grinned. “Yep. That’s me.”

  They’d gone to high school together, and they’d been friends. They hadn’t talked in too long, though. Abigail had left everyone behind when she’d married Kevin, and she regretted it more than ever. “It’s good to see you,” she said, stepping closer.

  A bundle of fur rushed toward Abigail’s feet. She jumped, then laughed at the small dog yipping for her attention. “And who’s that?” she asked as she crouched.

  “Princess Butterfly.” Abigail looked at Lee in surprise, but before she could ask, he smiled and continued, “She’s not my dog. I just walk her. Well, her and all the others, but Siegfried here is mine.” He tilted his chin toward an adorable mutt with one ear up and one down.

  Princess Butterfly was a fluffy white small dog, while the other was a distinctive-looking German Sheppard. “You walk dogs?”

  Lee shrugged. “I do. I own a dog grooming business, but I also walk the dogs of some of the clients who can’t do it.”

  “That’s nice.” And it was. Abigail wasn’t sure what else to say. She and Lee had been friends, but years had passed, and they didn’t know each other anymore.

  “I heard you were back in town,” Lee said.

  It wasn’t a question, but Abigail knew what he was asking. “I’m here to stay.”

  Lee smiled. “Yeah? Is your husband with you?”

  “Ah, no. We got divorced.” Abigail didn’t know if Lee would spread the news, but someone would find out eventually, and the entire town would know then. She might as well break the news herself to someone she liked.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” She was hurt and full of regrets, but she wasn’t sorry, not anymore. “How have you been doing?”

  “Busy building my business. I’m, uh, I’m not married. Never have been.”

  Abigail was tempted to tell him it was a good thing, especially when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She couldn’t be sure it was Kevin, but he’d been constantly calling, so there was a good chance it was. She didn’t want to sound bitter, though. She and Kevin were over, and she had a new life. She needed to stop thinking about Kevin. “You’re doing well, though. I mean, building your own business can’t be easy. I know how much work Aunt Charlotte has put into the shop.”

  Lee’s smile widened. “It wasn’t, but it’s doing well now, so that’s good.”

  Lee opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Abigail noticed someone walking toward them. She grimaced when she saw it was Randall, and Lee arched a brow as if to ask why she wasn’t happy to see the man. Abigail wouldn’t have been sure how to answer, so she was glad she wouldn’t have to.

  “Abigail,” Randall said, sounding delighted.

  Abigail didn’t like the sound of her name coming from him, not after the way he’d treated Aunt Charlotte. “Mr. Mersen.”

  “Call me Randall, please. Is Charlotte still here?”

  “She went home.”

  “Of course. She has to be exhausted, what with working with a broken arm.”

  Abigail frowned. “She’s doing well.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll come by sometime over the next few days to talk to her about the shop.”

  Aunt Charlotte had told Abigail she wasn’t selling the shop, so Abigail wasn’t sure why Randall insisted on this. The shop wasn’t hers, though, so she couldn’t exactly tell him to leave Aunt Charlotte alone. “You know where to find her.”

  “She must be glad to have you back in these difficult times.”

  “She didn’t die. She just broke her arm,” Lee pointed out.

  Randall didn’t look happy at his intervention. “She’s of a certain age, though. Her body won’t heal as easily as it would have a few years ago. I’m sure she can’t wait to retire and finally have the time to rest.”

  Abigail didn’t like where the conversation was going. “Well, I should head home. Thank you for coming by again, Mr. Mersen. I’ll let my aunt know you were worried about her.” She turned her attention back to Lee, and her smile felt more natural now. “We should talk again.”

  Lee smiled back. “Sounds good. I know where to find you, so I’ll come by soon.”

  Abigail still wasn’t sure what to think about Randall, but she felt better at the thought that she had at least one friend in town. She and Lee were nowhere near as close as they’d been when they were teenagers, but with time, she hoped they would be. She sorely needed a friend now that she was back, and talking to Lee made her feel like she was slipping back into her old life more easily than she’d expected.

  3

  Abigail eyed the lye Charlotte had directed her to take out of the container.

  “You need to mix it with the frozen goat milk,” Aunt Charlotte said.

  Abigail looked at her. “I read on the Internet that it could burn me.”

  “Which is why I asked you to wear long sleeves, work gloves, and protective goggles. Don’t worry too much. I know you’re new to this, but if I can do it, so can you.”

  Abigail wasn’t too sure about that. Making soap sounded interesting, but after what she’d read about lye burns, she was hesitant. She wasn’t only afraid to hurt herself. She knew beginners could make mistakes that would burn the goat’s milk and ruin the soap, and she didn’t want that to happen. Aunt Charlotte wasn’t rich, and she couldn’t afford to waste ingredients that way. “Maybe we should hold off the soap-making thing for a bit,” she tried.

  Aunt Charlotte sighed. “We can. There’s still enough soap in the backroom to keep us up for a few weeks. But you’re going to have to learn eventually, Abby. It’s not dangerous. I promise. I was afraid, too, the first time I did it, but everything went well.”

  “How many batches did you ruin?”

  Aunt Charlotte blinked, then laughed. “That’s what you’re worried about? Oh, Abby, you shouldn’t be. I ruined some batches, too, especially in the beginning. But there’s no other way to learn. If you want to make soap, you’re going to have to start somewhere.”

  She was right, but that didn’t help as much as Abigail wished it did. She bit her lower lip and eyed the ingredients, reaching for the lye. Just then, they heard the shop door open, and Abigail sighed in relief. “I’m going to see who it is and what they want,” she said.

  “You’re running away,” Aunt Charlotte answered, but Abigail was already taking off the gloves and goggles and moving to the main area of the shop.

  She stopped when she saw who was waiting for her. “Mr. Mersen,” she said. Her voice was cool, but she made sure to be polite.

  He nodded at her. “Ms. Kinsman. I was looking for your aunt.”

  “I don’t think she wants to talk to you, not after what happened the other day.” Abigail hadn’t had the time to ask yet, but she would, eventually. She wanted to know what was happening. If she was going to have a role in the shop, she needed to.

  “Still. You would do me a favor if you could ask her to come out here.”

  “She won’t have to ask me. I’m coming,” Aunt Charlotte said, pushing the backroom door open and stepping into the shop.

  Abigail looked around. She doubted either of them wanted the conversation to be public, but she felt it was her right to be a part of it, if anything so she could make sure Randall didn’t do anything.

  “Good morning,” Randall told Charlotte. “I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment.”

  Aunt Charlotte huffed. “I don’t want to talk to you. I already know what you want, and my answer is still no. It’s always going to be no. If you’re not here to buy
soap, you know where the door is.”

  Randall’s gaze moved to Abigail, then back to her aunt. “Maybe we should have this conversation alone?”

  “I just told you my answer, Randall. Stop acting as if you didn’t hear me. Abigail’s presence doesn’t change anything. I am not selling the shop to you, or to anyone else. You need to stop bothering me before I call the chief of police.”

  “That won’t be necessary. But I know how tired you are, Charlotte. You’ve been working hard, and you even hurt yourself. It’s obvious this job is too much for you.”

  Abigail could have told him this was the worst thing he could tell Aunt Charlotte. She knew she was getting up in age, but she didn’t like being called old, especially not by someone she disliked.

  She straightened her back, and Abigail held her breath. This was going to be good. “I am not old,” Aunt Charlotte said.

  “I never said you were old.”

  “You just told me the job is too much for me. Well, I have news for you. I’m not going to retire. And even if I were, I wouldn’t sell the shop to you. This place is going to stay a shop. It won’t become a new bed-and-breakfast, hotel, or whatever you want to turn it into. If I ever decide I’ve had enough of making soap, the shop will go to Abigail.”

  Abigail and Aunt Charlotte had talked about this, but she’d done her best to ignore the conversation. Abigail knew her aunt wouldn’t stop working anytime soon, even with a broken arm. But now, Aunt Charlotte was telling someone else about it, and Abigail wasn’t sure what to think. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted the shop. She was here to help, and she’d been grateful for the opportunity because it had taken her away from Kevin. She just didn’t know if she wanted this job to become the rest of her life. She was grateful and honored that Aunt Charlotte had thought about her, but was it what she wanted? She had no idea.

  Randall looked from her to Charlotte. “Abigail doesn’t know how to deal with the shop,” he said.

  He sounded perfectly reasonable, and Abigail had been thinking the same thing just a few moments earlier. Still, his words made her bristle. Who was he to say that she couldn’t do this?”

  Aunt Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest, careful of the cast. “I don’t care. I’m not retiring anyway. She’ll have me for years, explaining to her how to deal with the shop and make soap. You need to leave, Randall, and never come back, not unless you’re here to buy soap. My answer isn’t going to change, and I know Abigail won’t sell to you, either.”

  Abigail held her breath, wondering if Randall had finally gotten the hint or if he was going to try to push. She was relieved when he nodded curtly and turned around to leave. She and Aunt Charlotte both watched him, and Abigail waited until the door closed behind him to turn to her aunt. “He’s still going on about you selling the shop.”

  Aunt Charlotte rolled her eyes. “He’s been after me for months. The broken arm is just another excuse for him. He’s been telling me I’m too old, that I deserve to retire and rest, things like that. He doesn’t understand I’d go crazy if I had to stay at home the entire day.” She shook her head and relaxed. “No. This shop is my life now, and I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

  “You said you would leave it to me if you decide to retire.”

  “That’s the plan, yes. I shouldn’t have said that in front of him because we haven’t really talked about it, but he makes me so angry.” Aunt Charlotte smiled and patted Abigail’s shoulder. “And we don’t have to talk about it anytime soon. I know your life is still in shambles after what happened, and I don’t expect you to make any kind of decision anytime soon, especially not something as important as becoming the owner of the shop. Don’t worry about it too much. Don’t think about what Randall said. Relax, learn how to make soap and how to deal with the shop. You have all the time in the world to make decisions.”

  Abigail was grateful. She barely knew which way was up right now, and she couldn’t find it in herself to make this kind of big decision. She sucked in a breath. “All right. I guess we should go back to the backroom so you can teach me how to make soap.”

  Aunt Charlotte grinned. “Let’s go.”

  The soap-making was a disaster, exactly like Abigail had expected. She added too much lye at once, even though Aunt Charlotte had told her to be careful, and she’d burned the batch of goat milk. She wasn’t happy, and she’d promised herself she’d do better next time.

  Because there would be a next time. She wasn’t going anywhere, not when her aunt needed her, and apparently, not later, either. She’d been thinking about what Randall had said for most of the day, and even though she knew Aunt Charlotte wouldn’t change her mind, she had questions.

  “Why does Randall want to buy the shop so badly?” she asked at the end of the day while they were adding more soap to the shelves and cleaning up the shop. Aunt Charlotte didn’t look as tired today, so Abigail hadn’t pushed for her to go home.

  Aunt Charlotte looked up from the rosemary soaps she was moving around. “You’ve been wondering since he left, haven’t you?”

  Abigail saw no reason to deny it. “I have. He’s insistent. He came yesterday, then today. He implied you were too old to do this job and that you should retire. He was rude, and I don’t understand. What’s so important about this shop?”

  Aunt Charlotte put away the last soap and stepped back. “It’s not the shop that’s important, but the spot it’s in.”

  “On Main Street.”

  “Exactly. You know Randall owns the real estate agency?”

  “I didn’t, no.” Although Abigail wasn’t surprised.

  “He has plans for Main Street. He wants to buy the shop and the others around it to build a luxury hotel. He thinks it’ll bring in tourists.”

  Abigail frowned. “We already have tourists.” And during the summer, there were so many of them that the town was barely livable. Having even more of them would be horrible.

  Aunt Charlotte waved. “He wants to make the town a trendy holiday destination or something like that. He’s working on the hotel, but also on other things.”

  “And he needs the space for that hotel right on Main Street.” Close to the beaches and the restaurants and shops, although if Randall destroyed those shops for his hotel, it might not work.

  “He does. But I’m not selling. I wouldn’t even if he wanted to keep the shop as it is, but he’s not. He wants to destroy this place, and I won’t let that happen. We won’t. The other owners on the street won’t, either, and the mayor isn’t particularly happy. But Randall is Randall, and he’ll only do what’s good for him. He doesn’t much care about anyone else.” She sighed. “Don’t worry about all of this, Abby.”

  Abigail wasn’t sure she could do that. She still didn’t know how she felt about inheriting the shop when Aunt Charlotte retired, but it would never happen if Randall got his hands on the shop. “I can take on more responsibilities if you want me to,” she offered.

  “That won’t be necessary. I’m not selling, Abby. I can promise you that. I worked too hard to get this shop to where it’s at now, and no one but Randall wants to see the town overrun by tourists even more than it already is.”

  Abigail was relieved. She hadn’t been planning on any of this, but she also knew she couldn’t go back. She had nothing to go back to. This was her life now, and she had to make the best of it. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but it couldn’t be worse than what yesterday had brought.

  4

  Making soap was more complicated than Abigail had thought. She’d never really thought about making soap. She bought it, just like everyone else, but that was where her interest stopped.

  Until now.

  She didn’t want to ruin the ingredients Aunt Charlotte had bought for a second time, so she’d been reading up on it even more than before. No matter how many times Aunt Charlotte had explained, Abigail was terrified of getting it wrong, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t like feeling like a failure, which was why she
was reading up on it. The coffee she was sipping—caramel, lots of it so it barely tasted like coffee—also helped. It was nearing the end of lunch hour, and Abigail would have to go back to the shop soon, but in the meantime, it was nice to take a break.

  She felt like she hadn’t taken a break in a long time, and she was tired.

  “Abby,” someone said.

  Abigail looked up and blinked. She smiled at Lee, then looked around. “Alone this time?”

  He smiled. “I’m on a break. I left my dogs at home, so yes.” He gestured at the chair on the other side of the table Abigail was sitting at. “Do you mind? It’s a bit crowded.”

  The coffee shop was always crowded at lunch time, and Abby didn’t mind. “Of course.”

  She watched Lee as he sat down, and she put away her phone. They’d been friends once, and she wondered if they could be again. She needed friends. She’d never felt so alone, even with her family at her back, and she wanted that to change. She wasn’t sure it could, but she was going to try. “So, dog walking,” she said.

  Lee shook his head and sipped on his coffee. “Not exactly. I don’t only do dog walking. I also have a dog grooming business.”

  “You told me about that. I have to say, it’s not what I expected for you.” She’d always thought he would work in theater, or maybe in the movies. He’d certainly been a good enough actor.

  Lee shrugged. “I know what you’re thinking. I wanted to be the next Leonardo DiCaprio. It wasn’t for me, though.”

  “No? You seemed so sure of yourself.”

  “I was also eighteen. And I tried. I went to LA. I got jobs as a waiter, went to auditions. I even got a few roles. But they didn’t pay much, and in the end, I think my passion for acting wasn’t strong enough, you know? I’m in the town’s theater group, though, and it’s more than enough for me. Besides, I’ve also always loved animals, so the dog grooming thing is good for me.”

  “And you still act, but as a hobby.”

  “Exactly. What about you? I know you wanted to be a teacher.”