“Okay,” Pippa said with a flourish of her hands. “If Nora’s not worried, then I’m not going to worry, at least not until this weekend is over. Portman’s is doing their lunch tour in ten minutes.” Pippa had joined the Garden Cove Chamber of Commerce to represent our store along with her husband Jordy’s coffee shop. She’d helped organize the itinerary for the event. “Rose Palace will be coming thirty minutes later, so it will be a quick turnaround.”
Rose Palace Resort is where Gilly used to work as the manager of the spa. She’d been accused of killing a security guard, who happened to be her abusive, crazy ex, and the manager ended up neck-deep in a local criminal organization. Needless to say, she quit her job and came to work at our shop. Massage therapy and aromatherapy went hand in hand. Our businesses crossed over in the best way.
“And we’ve got Parker’s Landing, Lakeshore Resort, Gardenia Hollow Resort and Marina, and Hunter’s Hillside Getaway successively,” Pippa informed us—as if she hadn’t already given us this information multiple times this week. “Nora, do you want to swap out the booth for the store?” She gave the Gazette a meaningful look before turning her gaze back to me. “Less traffic and all.” She shrugged, but I could tell she was worried about me.
“I’ll be fine,” I reassured her. “How many people still read the morning paper? And besides, most of thetraffic,” I said, using her word, “will be out-of-town tourists. They’ll have no idea who I am.”
“No worries,” Gilly added. “We are all hands-on-deck until this shindig shuts down.”
“Great.” Pippa put on a cheerful face, but I could see the stress in her eyes. “Text me if you, uh, need help.”
“If it gets bad, I’ll call Tippy and see if she wants to trade jobs for the day.” I gave Pippa a tight smile. “I’ll babysit JJ and JP, and she can dazzle the crowd.”
Tippy had worked in the shop when Pippa had taken maternity leave, and she’d done a great job. This weekend, she was celebrating three years of sobriety. She’d dropped out of college years ago and recently started online courses to finish her degree in psychology. She wanted to work as a drug and alcohol counselor.
Pippa, her older sister, acted more like a proud mother. Considering that their parents had cut them out of their lives, it wasn’t surprising that they developed a relationship beyond siblings.
“Tippy started online summer classes last week. She’s got too much homework to get done, along with everything else this weekend,” Pippa said, her voice tinged with pride.
“Don’t you worry,” Gilly said to me. “If anyone gives you crap or gets pushy...” she clenched her fists. “I’ll start naming and shaming. I know a lot of secrets in this town. It would turn a stripper blue to hear all the confessions people make to me while they’re on my massage table.” She let out a noise of frustration. “I wish I knew who wrote that letter. I’d give them a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.”
“Let it go before you give yourself an ulcer,” I told her as I tilted the supply dolly back onto its two wheels. “It’s not worth it.”
My bestie since kindergarten pished me with a flick of her wrist. “Luckily, I have a doctor at home who can treat me.”
I smiled. Gilly had married the love of her life coming up a year ago, in June, and she was still in the honeymoon phase. Her happiness with a really good man filled my heart with joy. She deserved to be loved well, and Scott Graham did just that.
ChapterTwo
As the late morning sun cast a warm glow over our booth, Ari, Gilly’s daughter, and Mason, Ezra’s son, were setting up the displays under the branded tarp that they’d put up for me while I had gone to get more supplies. Marco, Ari’s twin, was out of town for the week playing baseball. He played for the Rasfield Rangers, and they were playing a series in Arkansas. He wouldn’t be back until Monday. Gilly made all his home games, but the away games were harder, especially now that summer had kicked off.
Ari and Mason were both home for summer break from college and had been inseparable. For a hot minute, when they were in high school, I’d thought Ari might have a little crush on Mason, but it turned out she wasn’t Mason’s type. Wrong gender.
He’d finally come out to his dad at the end of last year, and I’d been so proud of Ezra’s reaction. He’d told Mason that he loved him, straight or gay, and he only ever wanted Mason to be happy. I hadn’t been there, but I’d seen the memory the next time we’d gotten dinner from the Taco Shake Shack. It had been the meal they had been eating when Mason had nonchalantly told his dad that he was gay and had a boyfriend named Dillon.
I’m pretty sure Ezra had already known—about the gay part anyhow—but I’d given him points for not saying it.
It had been another week later before Ezra had told me about the conversation. I’d known for a while about Mason, but only because Ari had let it slip once. Even so, I hadn’t told a soul. I figured the young man had a right to come out in his own time and in his own way.
And he had. Huzzah.
The tarp Pippa had ordered was a bright, sunny yellow. The “Scents and Scentsability” logo across the front was in a deep purple script, and we had three tables set up beneath it in a horseshoe configuration.
Mason’s infectious laughter filled the air as I wheeled the dolly the last few feet. He’d arranged the sample-sized scent balm display with artistic flair and slapped Ari’s hand away when she tried rearranging it. We were selling them for three dollars a tube as an introductory offer. Mason had been such a shy, quiet kid when I first met him, but college had brought out a different side to the young man. His energy brought a sense of excitement and creativity to our booth.
It was a Memorial Day weekend four years ago when I first met Mason. Ezra had invited me to dinner with the two of them. Shortly after we’d ordered our meal, I discovered the body of a woman in the lake, cutting our date short. He’d been a gangly teen, but I could already see the man developing. Now that he was twenty, he’d filled out a bit and looked more and more like his dad every time I saw him.
Ari, a science wizard and perfectionist, meticulously organized our products by type and scent, ensuring that each item was presented in its best light. In high school, she’d worn her hair short, and her clothes were mostly androgynous. Now, her dark brown hair was past her shoulders, and she wore a bright yellow cropped tank top and a lavender maxi skirt.
The second time she reached for Mason’s area, she whipped her hand away before he could slap it and flicked his ears. Both of them dissolved in a fit of giggles.
They straightened up immediately when a customer, Barb Clarence, stopped at our booth. Barb was the pharmacy tech at Craymore’s Pharmacy. The first time I’d met her, she acted like I was cooking meth because I’d asked for Pseudo-Act, my favorite antihistamine decongestant to use during allergy season. I bet she had been horrified to find out that the pharmacist she worked for at the time, Burt Adler, had been trafficking drugs out of the pharmacy. Barb had treated Leila well during her chemo, and it was the only thing that softened me toward the hard woman.
“Hi, Barb,” I greeted her. “Nice day for it.”
She smiled. “It sure is.” Leaning over, she scanned the scent balms. “I just love your Mint-alyuptus and Lavender Sandalwood. I’ll take a couple of each.”
“Awesome,” I told her. Ari was already dropping the balms in the bag. “That’s twelve dollars.”
