Eleanor looked down to see a woman who was probably in her early thirties but was dressed more like someone in her early sixties. She had a sleek platinum bob, the kind with sharp edgesthat looked like it required frequent upkeep. She wore pristine white slacks, neat little loafers, and a lightweight sweater set in a soft lilac hue. It was a rather formal outfit for a Friday afternoon, and Eleanor couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit shabby in her shorts and t-shirt, even if that was the correct outfit for her current activity.
“Um, hello,” she said.
The woman smiled at her, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. Her smile was more pro forma than it was warm.
“Good afternoon,” the woman said. “I’m Winnie Burnett. I’m the head of the town’s historical society and, in less of an official capacity, I like to keep my hand in the goings-on about town.”
She said this as if its importance should be self-explanatory.
“Oh,” Eleanor said. “Wow. That’s, uh, that sounds very enriching.”
Winnie looked at Eleanor as if Eleanor had missed the point entirely.
“It is,” she said. “I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself, because it seems like you have undertakenquitethe project here.”
Eleanor was starting to think she knew what was going on here. In her past life, she’d served on dozens of parent committees, not to mention the groups she had been part of with other lawyers’ wives. Winnie Burnett, Eleanor assumed, was the head of every group she’d ever joined.
Eleanor also knew that the best way to deal with someone like this was to stay in her own lane. When Jeremy was younger, she’d let herself get all out of sorts when some of the other parents had indicated that they knew better than Eleanor how to do this craft or that activity, but she’d gradually come to recognize that such bossiness, for lack of a more polite term, usually had more to do with the other person than it did with anything Eleanor was up to.
“I am,” she agreed peaceably. “I’m opening a bookstore.”
Winnie’s eyebrows rose. “A bookstore,” she repeated flatly.
“Yep!” Eleanor said brightly. “There isn’t one in town, so I think it will be a great addition!”
“Uh huh,” Winnie said doubtfully. “And that will entail… what, exactly? Construction? Will it disrupt the neighborhood?”
“No, it shouldn’t,” Eleanor said. “Most of what I’m changing is inside the building. And once the business is open, there’s plenty of street parking.”
“Your current work is outside the house,” Winnie pointed out.
“I’m cleaning the gutters,” Eleanor countered. To punctuate this, she dropped a handful of sodden leaves and sticks. It didn’t even come close to hitting Winnie, but the woman looked at it with an expression as shocked as if Eleanor had dropped the muck directly on her head. When Winnie looked back up, Eleanor smiled her sweetest smile. “I’d be doing that no matter what I was doing with the building. Gutters do insist on getting gummed up, huh?”
Winnie did not look at all satisfied with the way this conversation had gone.
“Right,” she said. “Well, just as a bit of neighborly advice, you might want to make sure you have all your permits in place. I go to every town meeting, so I can tell you that these things can become major headaches if you don’t deal with them.”
Eleanor had the suspicion that, despite her somewhat standoffish demeanor, Winnie was actually trying to be helpful. Even so, the younger woman’s words sent a pang of anxiety through Eleanor.
“Permits?” she asked.
“Well,” Winnie said, “if you intend to take a building like this one, which is zoned as a residential building, and use it for business…” She paused, considering. “You’ll have to petitionthe town to rezone it for business use, for starters. Plus, you’ll probably have to do some sort of neighborhood impact assessment. Sometimes there is a community petition aspect, sometimes not. But it really isveryimportant that you make sure to hit the deadlines for each of these steps, since there can be fines if you miss even the smallest step. I can get you a copy of the regulations, if you want.”
“Shoot,” Eleanor said.
Winnie had been looking a little too pleased for Eleanor’s taste as she listed the different forms of paperwork, but when Eleanor let out her little expression of dismay, the woman’s face did drop. This reasserted Eleanor’s conviction that the woman might enjoy taking control, but she didn’t do so with malice. She did seem to really be trying to help.
“It can be tough,” she said sympathetically. “But as long as you follow all the town rules to the letter, you’ll be fine.” She glanced down at the elegant watch on her wrists. “Oh dear. I have to get going to a meeting. Good luck!”
She walked smartly toward the street, then bundled herself into a neat little sedan. This left Eleanor behind wondering if she knew exactly what she’d gotten herself into with this dream store of hers…
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Okay,” June said to herself. “I got keys. I got my wallet. I got the book. I got… where did that wine go?”
She spun, eyes darting around the kitchen, until she saw the bottle of wine that she’d purchased for book club sitting on top of her microwave. Well, it was anyone’s guess why she’d put it there, but if she found it, she wasn’t going to ask any more questions.
She was too tired to worry about any extraneous questions. She was honestly probably too tired for book club, but skipping felt like giving in. She wasn’t sure what she was giving into… but she was too tired for that, also.
