“Great, yes,” she says dismissively as she makes her way toward me at a rapid rate.Shestops in the middle of the raspberry massacre, turns, and drops into the seat, a bit winded from what must have been extra rapid ker-clunking to get here.
“Ihave news,” she says with a similar expression to the one she had the day she told me plans for aYellowBarnhad been submitted to the council.
Iclasp the top of the mop handle in both hands, rest my chin on them, and smile at her. “Haven’tbeen much of a fan of your news lately,Mrs.B.”
“Well,I’mafraid this is no better, my love.”Sheshifts in the seat. “Worse, in fact.”
Idrop my forehead to rest on my hands and close my eyes. “Okay, hit me with it.I’mon a roll with bad news.”
“Mynephew says the planning board’s ready to vote on theYellowBarnstore at next week’s meeting.Andenough councilmembers now support it for it to pass.”
Knowingit was inevitable doesn’t stop the churning in my gut.Myeyes sting and a lump grows in my throat asIlift my head to look atMrs.B.
“Well,Iguess we fought the best fight we could.”Imake a sweeping gesture at the store. “Getyour quality fruit and veggies while you can.Beforeall that’s available is cheap, tasteless garbage.”
“Mynephew says the ‘yes’ side will swing it by just two votes.”Sheturns to look through the window at the happy, bustling street and sighs. “Ifonly that executive guy hadn’t givenRitaWigginsaYankeesseason ticket and topped upGeraldMontgomery’slibrary fund so it buys a bunch of computers on top of everything else he wanted.Maybethey might have been noes instead of yeses.”
Didshe say whatIthink she said?
Myblood runs cold, my fingers turn to ice, and my stomach plummets to the tiled floor then bounces back up to my throat. “What’sthat,Mrs.B?Whodid that?Whatexecutive?”
“Apparently, there’s been an executive from the company in town for a few days, and he got to know the soft spots of some of the councilmembers and used it to his advantage.”
Ifollow her gaze to whereMaxis scrutinizing some incense sticksAngusis showing him.
Myblood is no longer icy cold.It’sboiling.Araging boil.Andbubbling up to my burning face.
Heused me.
Thebastard used me.
Hewent along with me trying to help him get to know and understand the locals, not because he was open to learning the effects his store might have on them, but because he was using it for intel on how he could buy them off.
“Thebastard used me.”
“Polly!” saysMrs.B, her mouth open in shock.Shemight never have heard me swear before.Carlyusually has the monopoly on workplace profanity.
Myheart pounds, sending a banging, raging pulse to my head.
Themop handle clatters as it bounces on the tiled floor.Imust have let it go.
Ican’t bite my tongue.Ican’t.
Irace to step aroundMrs.Bin her walker but lose traction on the watery raspberry mush.Bothfeet slide from under me asIfly back and land perfectly in her lap.
“Ooph,” she cries asIclimb off her knee and skid again.
ThistimeIgrab onto the edge of the cabbage display and just about keep myself upright. “God,I’mso sorry.Areyou okay?DidIhurt your legs?Idropped on you pretty hard.”
“I’mfine.Perfectlyfine.Butyou are obviously not, my dear.”Sheleans forward and holds onto my arm. “Youlook like you’re either about to sob your heart out or punch someone on the nose.”
Ilook out atMaxagain. “Yeah,I’mnot sure which it is either.”Iturn back toMrs.B’sconcerned face. “Let’sfind out, shall we?”
Heartpounding like a caged animal in my chest,Imarch out the front door, step over a splattered chocolate ice cream cone on the sidewalk, dodge between smiling early shoppers, and come to a stop behindAngus.
There’sa swooshing noise in my head thatI’veonly ever heard while underwater.Orwhen my ears are blocked from the shower.Myarmpits are sweaty, and my face must be the color of the raspberry mush.
Maxlooks up from examining the label on a mason jar candle.
