Page 26
Story: Craving Consequences
And a nightmare to organize.
As Mayor Ferguson’s personal assistant, the task should have been Peggy Sue’s, but I made the mistake of thinking I wanted to be helpful. A mistake I regretted immediately when I spent eight weeks working with Mr. Sutton getting his cornfield ready. Almost eighty with failing hearing, it had taken a lot of miming and passing notes, but we finally got the maze carved out to match my hand drawn map.
Still, she’s not wrong. It had been fun once I stopped stressing about someone getting lost and enjoyed the evening.
“I’ll let Mr. Ferguson know,” I tell Maisie, scooping up my breakfast with one hand and waving my change away with the other. “ Are we still good for the you-know-what?”
While Lauren may not be in the vicinity and the bakery is relatively empty, keeping a secret from my best friend is the equivalent of hiding something from the FBI. It’s not possible. Lauren can smell the attempt on me.
Still, somehow by the grace of God, I have somehow kept this party from her and only have the two weeks to go.
Maisie chuckles and gestures with the nod of her head in the direction of the backroom. “Started all the prep work and will have everything ready for pickup bright and early Friday morning.”
I grin. “You’re the best. Thank you for all your help. I can’t wait to see the...” I drop my voice to a whisper, “cake.”
“Oh, I am so excited. I think it’s my best work.”
Exchanging smiles, I promise to see her tomorrow and hurry to leave, only to get as far as the sidewalk when Thelma Walker and Florence Page block my path.
Eighty-five and a solid four feet of trouble smile up at me like a pair ofCheshire cats.
“Good morning, Mrs. Walker. Mrs. Page. How are you this sticky morning?”
“Feeling old,” Thelma pipes up as if waiting for the question. “It’s a long walk from Magnolia Avenue in this heat with no benches to rest on.”
I draw in a slow breath to keep from repeating my argument through gritted teeth. “I’m really sorry to hear that. Mayor Ferguson has your suggestion in the books. I wrote it myself. He will look into it the second he’s—”
“We’re ninety years old, Everly. We can’t spend our last few days on earth walking.”
Because I’m not suicidal, I don’t correct them their age, but nod sympathetically. “I absolutely agree we could use a couple of nice benches around town. I’ll make sure Mayor Ferguson has a look over your request.”
“And don’t forget the awning. No point sitting in the hot sun without some cover,” Thelma prompts.
That’s not going to happen. I might be able to swing a few benches here and there if I can convince Mayor Ferguson to have someone local build them, but awnings are pushing it.
“I’ll add it to the notes.”
Not a lie. I will include it, but I know it will get rejected.
“We did also have another concern,” Florence cuts in, voice barely above a whisper. Her brown eyes, the hue of a wet log, blink up at me. “The MacAllister house.”
I wait for her to continue but both are staring at me like they’d given me a dire proclamation of doom.
“I’m sorry. What about it?”
Florence and Thelma exchange glances.
“We heard Bron Shaw has offered to take the listing,” Thelma hisses with the dramatics of someone discussing porn.
“Of course you know what a concerning idea that is,” Thelma prompts.
What’s even more concerning is the fact that, no, I have no idea what they’re talking about. Bron never talks to me about his work and I don’t think I’ve ever asked him. Granted, I don’t think he’s actually ever sold a house. As a junior member on the team, he follows the others to viewings and learns the process. I had no idea he was even getting listings.
“What Bron is doing at work isn’t really my—”
“He can’t sellthathouse, Everly. Surely Mayor Ferguson understands the gravity of the situation,” Thelma gasps, bonyfingers clutching at the gold cross dangling around her throat. “It’s just not holy.”
“Mayor Ferguson doesn’t interfere with property sales,” I point out, trying not to stare at the fat, purple vein wiggling beneath the paper thin skin at the back of her hand. “The house will eventually sell and a family will make good use of it. Isn’t that what’s important?”
Table of Contents
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