Bet GracieAnn could be another Sweeney Todd given half a chance. She’s not someone you want to tick off. Think
Reagan
cookies with blonde icing hair and flip-flops. I’m going back in that store and get my baked goods for tonight, then stop over at Dan’s Flora and Fauna for some of those sunflowers in his window that are bigger than a roasted turkey. Then I’m taking a cab home. Don’t be late for dinner, and wear something presentable. A little lipstick wouldn’t hurt either.”
“I can go with you,” I said, thinking another sprinkle doughnut might be in order. “I bet Percy’s still out front of the Fox, so I don’t have any customers. How am I ever going to get rid of him?”
“Worry about that later. You have bigger fish to fry. Confession’s good for the soul, and this time it might save your hide, least with Boone. You best go tell him that GracieAnn might be looking for him. If she shows up on his doorstep and says you sent her, Boone will hunt you down. With GracieAnn you best watch your back, literally.”
Auntie KiKi took my hand, her look pained. “Honey, you got a particular way of getting yourself in deep doo-doo these days. Someone ran you into the swamp and now you might very well get baked up into cookies. How does this keep happening?”
I watched KiKi go inside. GracieAnn had information I could use. I should watch her, see whom she was friendly with and maybe catch a conversation or two. That made me a stalker, and part of the Sweeney Todd conversation replayed in my head. I needed one of those bug things to plant in the bakery. Right, I couldn’t even afford a phone.
Chatting it up with Boone was not on my wish list at the moment. He’d fold his arms, shake his head, and proceed with a
what were you thinking
lecture. I wasn’t in a lecture-by-Boone mood. When I got back to the Fox there was no sign of Percy on my sidewalk. Things were looking up till I went inside to find my AC unit in bits and pieces all over the dining room hardwood floor. Percy had his jacket off, red tie loose and limp at his neck, a smear of grease on his right ear, a toolbox at his side. He sat on one of my dining room chairs digging around in the metal AC case wedged in the window. Central air was not a luxury of old homes with radiator heating and money-challenged owners.
“What’s going on?” I asked Chantilly, a few customers in the shop trying to act as if having machine pieces on the floor were a common occurrence.
Chantilly nodded at the mess. “Your AC was making weird noises.”
“If you were as old as that unit, you’d be making weird noises, too.”
Chantilly crooked her finger at me and I leaned across the checkout counter. “It may be a little warm in the Fox, but Percy isn’t harassing customers either. He chased off a whole busload of Red Hat ladies from the First Baptist Church over there on Bull Street who came to shop. You know how those gals in the red hats spend money. I remembered Percy did repair work to earn his way though college and told him about the AC. When he gets that done maybe we can break something else around here to keep him busy and off the streets so to speak.”
“He looks happy. I think he’s humming.”
“‘Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’ from
Oklahoma
. At it for an hour now.”
I went into the dining room and, without looking up, Percy said, “I’ll have this baby up and running for you in no time. One summer I helped my uncle Chicken. He’s a repairman over there in Garden City. Can you hand me that Phillips head screwdriver out of my toolbox? Always keep my toolbox in my car just in case something like this happens. Got to be prepared, that’s what Uncle Chicken says.”
I handed off the screwdriver, then retrieved a denim jacket out of the display for a customer. Chantilly was busy at the checkout. Well, shut my mouth and call me a clam. I was actually making money. I glanced back to my AC unit and Percy reconnecting hoses and metal parts like
Reagan
cookies with blonde icing hair and flip-flops. I’m going back in that store and get my baked goods for tonight, then stop over at Dan’s Flora and Fauna for some of those sunflowers in his window that are bigger than a roasted turkey. Then I’m taking a cab home. Don’t be late for dinner, and wear something presentable. A little lipstick wouldn’t hurt either.”
“I can go with you,” I said, thinking another sprinkle doughnut might be in order. “I bet Percy’s still out front of the Fox, so I don’t have any customers. How am I ever going to get rid of him?”
“Worry about that later. You have bigger fish to fry. Confession’s good for the soul, and this time it might save your hide, least with Boone. You best go tell him that GracieAnn might be looking for him. If she shows up on his doorstep and says you sent her, Boone will hunt you down. With GracieAnn you best watch your back, literally.”
Auntie KiKi took my hand, her look pained. “Honey, you got a particular way of getting yourself in deep doo-doo these days. Someone ran you into the swamp and now you might very well get baked up into cookies. How does this keep happening?”
I watched KiKi go inside. GracieAnn had information I could use. I should watch her, see whom she was friendly with and maybe catch a conversation or two. That made me a stalker, and part of the Sweeney Todd conversation replayed in my head. I needed one of those bug things to plant in the bakery. Right, I couldn’t even afford a phone.
Chatting it up with Boone was not on my wish list at the moment. He’d fold his arms, shake his head, and proceed with a
what were you thinking
lecture. I wasn’t in a lecture-by-Boone mood. When I got back to the Fox there was no sign of Percy on my sidewalk. Things were looking up till I went inside to find my AC unit in bits and pieces all over the dining room hardwood floor. Percy had his jacket off, red tie loose and limp at his neck, a smear of grease on his right ear, a toolbox at his side. He sat on one of my dining room chairs digging around in the metal AC case wedged in the window. Central air was not a luxury of old homes with radiator heating and money-challenged owners.
“What’s going on?” I asked Chantilly, a few customers in the shop trying to act as if having machine pieces on the floor were a common occurrence.
Chantilly nodded at the mess. “Your AC was making weird noises.”
“If you were as old as that unit, you’d be making weird noises, too.”
Chantilly crooked her finger at me and I leaned across the checkout counter. “It may be a little warm in the Fox, but Percy isn’t harassing customers either. He chased off a whole busload of Red Hat ladies from the First Baptist Church over there on Bull Street who came to shop. You know how those gals in the red hats spend money. I remembered Percy did repair work to earn his way though college and told him about the AC. When he gets that done maybe we can break something else around here to keep him busy and off the streets so to speak.”
“He looks happy. I think he’s humming.”
“‘Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’ from
Oklahoma
. At it for an hour now.”
I went into the dining room and, without looking up, Percy said, “I’ll have this baby up and running for you in no time. One summer I helped my uncle Chicken. He’s a repairman over there in Garden City. Can you hand me that Phillips head screwdriver out of my toolbox? Always keep my toolbox in my car just in case something like this happens. Got to be prepared, that’s what Uncle Chicken says.”
I handed off the screwdriver, then retrieved a denim jacket out of the display for a customer. Chantilly was busy at the checkout. Well, shut my mouth and call me a clam. I was actually making money. I glanced back to my AC unit and Percy reconnecting hoses and metal parts like
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