faded with age and almost indecipherable.
Religion. Funny that Lucinda would group Wiccans in with traditional religions. I bet the head of the Lutheran church would beg to differ with her on that point.
I’d arrived just in time for a rush of customers. That was life in this business. Dead as a doornail one minute; flooded with customers the next. Lori Spandle chose that exact time (planned, I’m sure, for maximum effect) to make a grand entrance and start stirring the pot.
“One of my best friends is at the doctor’s office right now,” she said in a loud voice. “And she might have swine flu.” Her evil little face turned to the register, where I had begun checking out customers. “Has anybody been in Story’s backyard recently? I bet she’s raising swine back there.”
A few locals snickered at her attempt to ruffle my feathers. Seeing a showdown between the two of us was like having ringside seats at a wrestling match.
“Laugh all you want,” Lori said to them, “but I’m going to prove Story is to blame and that my friend got it right inside this very store because of poor hygiene practices.”
“That’s nonsense and you know it,” somebody said.
“Throw her out, Story,” came another. Advice I would have gladly followed, except my customers were doing a mighty fine job of defending me and my store.
“Lori has a friend?” I heard someone mutter. I wanted to answer that question with a big fat “no,” but I bit my lip.
This was going great.
They kept it up. “Spandle, are you trying to start something again?”
“Yah, what are you up to?”
How the woman makes a living selling properties in this town is truly remarkable, considering Johnny Jay would beat her in a popularity contest, and nobody in Moraine likes him one bit.
“Just remember,” I thought I’d better remind folks all the same, “nothing contagious ever started in my store, and it’s never going to, either. We take pride in cleanliness. Isn’t that right, everybody? Have you ever seen my store dirty?”
Everybody had to agree that they hadn’t.
Which reminded me that I’d better dust the choir loft before the seniors’ next card game up there. If anybody was going to find a fingertip of dust, it would be one of those women.
“Besides,” I blurted out. It just flew at her in spite of my effort to control myself. “The only pig in this town is inside my store.”
Lori’s face went even redder as she caught my implication. “You’ll pay for that remark!”
“You’ll pay for your products or get out of my store,” I replied.
After Lori stormed out and the rush of business slowed, I tried to call Aurora, but she didn’t answer her phone. Starving, since I’d missed lunch, I grabbed a yogurt from the cooler and wolfed it down while taking a break outside, where I was surprised to discover dark clouds moving in from the northwest, just like Lucinda had predicted. How had she called that one so right?
Stanley came in later and told us that Aurora had been called down to the police station to give a written statement. He said he’d been walking down Main Street when he saw the chief turn onto my block. “I thought he might be after you,” Stanley said to me, “but nope, he was being more sneaky than usual and was aiming for Aurora’s place. I hung around long enough to watch him pull out with her in the back of his squad car.”
“Why Aurora?” I wanted to know, but Stanley didn’t have any additional information. He did have some other good news for me though.
“Now that your mother is preoccupied and isn’t on the schedule, I’m willing to come back part-time,” he announced.
“Yes! Please! That would be wonderful.” Poor Stanley had endured more than his fair share of my mother’s verbal abuse and deserved the peaceful work environment I could now give him. That is, if we could just keep Lori out of the store.
“I’ve already cleared it with Carrie Ann,” he added.
Oh, right, I
Religion. Funny that Lucinda would group Wiccans in with traditional religions. I bet the head of the Lutheran church would beg to differ with her on that point.
I’d arrived just in time for a rush of customers. That was life in this business. Dead as a doornail one minute; flooded with customers the next. Lori Spandle chose that exact time (planned, I’m sure, for maximum effect) to make a grand entrance and start stirring the pot.
“One of my best friends is at the doctor’s office right now,” she said in a loud voice. “And she might have swine flu.” Her evil little face turned to the register, where I had begun checking out customers. “Has anybody been in Story’s backyard recently? I bet she’s raising swine back there.”
A few locals snickered at her attempt to ruffle my feathers. Seeing a showdown between the two of us was like having ringside seats at a wrestling match.
“Laugh all you want,” Lori said to them, “but I’m going to prove Story is to blame and that my friend got it right inside this very store because of poor hygiene practices.”
“That’s nonsense and you know it,” somebody said.
“Throw her out, Story,” came another. Advice I would have gladly followed, except my customers were doing a mighty fine job of defending me and my store.
“Lori has a friend?” I heard someone mutter. I wanted to answer that question with a big fat “no,” but I bit my lip.
This was going great.
They kept it up. “Spandle, are you trying to start something again?”
“Yah, what are you up to?”
How the woman makes a living selling properties in this town is truly remarkable, considering Johnny Jay would beat her in a popularity contest, and nobody in Moraine likes him one bit.
“Just remember,” I thought I’d better remind folks all the same, “nothing contagious ever started in my store, and it’s never going to, either. We take pride in cleanliness. Isn’t that right, everybody? Have you ever seen my store dirty?”
Everybody had to agree that they hadn’t.
Which reminded me that I’d better dust the choir loft before the seniors’ next card game up there. If anybody was going to find a fingertip of dust, it would be one of those women.
“Besides,” I blurted out. It just flew at her in spite of my effort to control myself. “The only pig in this town is inside my store.”
Lori’s face went even redder as she caught my implication. “You’ll pay for that remark!”
“You’ll pay for your products or get out of my store,” I replied.
After Lori stormed out and the rush of business slowed, I tried to call Aurora, but she didn’t answer her phone. Starving, since I’d missed lunch, I grabbed a yogurt from the cooler and wolfed it down while taking a break outside, where I was surprised to discover dark clouds moving in from the northwest, just like Lucinda had predicted. How had she called that one so right?
Stanley came in later and told us that Aurora had been called down to the police station to give a written statement. He said he’d been walking down Main Street when he saw the chief turn onto my block. “I thought he might be after you,” Stanley said to me, “but nope, he was being more sneaky than usual and was aiming for Aurora’s place. I hung around long enough to watch him pull out with her in the back of his squad car.”
“Why Aurora?” I wanted to know, but Stanley didn’t have any additional information. He did have some other good news for me though.
“Now that your mother is preoccupied and isn’t on the schedule, I’m willing to come back part-time,” he announced.
“Yes! Please! That would be wonderful.” Poor Stanley had endured more than his fair share of my mother’s verbal abuse and deserved the peaceful work environment I could now give him. That is, if we could just keep Lori out of the store.
“I’ve already cleared it with Carrie Ann,” he added.
Oh, right, I
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