Page 39 of Beaches, Bagels & Babes

Candace did not know what to say. Having so little blood family of her own, she had always looked at Demi’s with awe. The idea that she could be considered a part of it was special to her beyond words.

Rather than address any of those more complicated feelings, Candace observed, “Katina really seemed to hit it off with Rio.”

Demi snorted.

“They’re still hitting it off. Katina had to coach my theia on pronouns, but she adored Rio as soon as they praised her spanakopita. For some people, food is a love language.”

“Yeah,” Candace agreed wistfully. “I know what you mean.”

Demi’s eye roll might as well have been audible. With a smirk, she added, “Speaking of… Someone is trying to get your attention.”

Candace got whiplash from how quickly her head snapped to look across the boardwalk. The snicker it drew from Demi only stung a little. Waving at them, Daisy held up their special of the day chalkboard sign. She’d drawn a giant arrow that pointed towards the ground.

“An arrow?” Candace pouted, “I don’t get it.”

Daisy’s waves turned to frantic downward gesturing before her attention was taken by a customer.

“I think she wants you to look around near here,” Demi guessed.

They both set to seek-mode, investigating under the bayou shack’s polished wood countertop and enamel swivel stools made to look like curled up shrimp.

Taped to the underside of the stool Candace habitually sat on, they found a tissue-wrapped package.

She held it in her trembling hands as her brain forgot what she needed to do next.

“Well?” Demi urged, “Open it! Doesn’t look like flaming dog poo to me.”

Candace cast her unhelpful friend a look. Sucking in a breath, she broke Daisy’s carefully placed tape seal, peeled back the paper layers…

—and gasped.

It was a sea glass flower pendant—a daisy, to be exact.

Six dainty, milky white oblong shards for petals, and an amber lump made up the middle core.

The pieces were connected with intricately woven copper jewelry wire that also formed the stem and a curling leaf.

If Candace wanted, she could attach it to a necklace or keychain.

Now, though, she held it cupped in both her hands as if it were gold.

Nonono, this isn’t good! Candace’s inner monologue went haywire as she struggled to come up with a platonic explanation for the gift.

“Wow,” Demi whistled. “Zee always was great with her wirework, but I never thought she could be sweet. Seems like she’s come around.”

“We’re friends. I think, maybe…”

“Friends, huh? So, when are you going to tell her you want more?”

“What?! Are you crazy? I can’t do that.”

Demi took a long, languid sip of her tea. “Can’t, or won’t?”

“Both,” Candace grumbled. Her thumb swept across the amber center’s smooth surface, marveling over it. Softer, she continued, “Things are going so well for Daisy. If I bring that up , it could ruin everything. I won’t mess up her life again.”

“She might not let you have a choice on that one. Giving you meaningful flower presents… Asking you to sleep over after late-night planning sessions… the goofy look she’s giving you right now… That woman is dropping some cosmic-sized hints.”

“You’re reading into things. We haven’t even been in the same room together in almost a month.”

“Mm-hm. Yeah, and she was really hoping you would stay longer.”

Candace was feeling hot, and not in a good way. The sweltering, thick air was making it difficult to breathe. She argued, “It was late. Daisy gets worried about me crossing the bridge at night, that’s all.”

Winking, Demi finished, “Because she cares about you. Zee hasn’t ever asked me to stay over, you know. Whenever I see her, you’re all she talks about. It couldn’t be any more obvious how you two feel about each other. Why deny it?”

Through the crossing boardwalk crowd, Candace and Daisy locked eyes. In her usual Bagel Bombs! tank top and aqua blue athletic shorts, her fresh undercut complementing the longer length of her hair, the woman looked as confident as she had on the first day Candace came back to Wonderwood.

Strong. Self-assured. Sexy.

She was Daisy— no, Candace reminded herself— Zee DeMarco. And Candace would always be the person who hurt her most.

Apologizing to Demi, Candace made up an excuse about her break being over. She fled from Daisy, and the feelings that were growing impossible to fight.

Throughout the first half of August, Candace did her best to cut back contact with Daisy.

She stopped answering her good morning texts, and pretended to be too busy for their nighttime chats.

Communications were kept professional. Despite Daisy’s best attempts to steer their conversations to ‘fun’ topics, if it was not about Bagel Bombs!

or business-related, Candace did not engage.

It was beyond difficult. Candace wanted to talk to Daisy about her art, her day, what she thought of the show they had been watching… if they could forget about everything and run away together…

But this was how things had to be if Bagel Bombs!— and she— was going to make it through the summer. Candace just needed to focus on finding their golden ticket to take down her uncle. She promised Daisy that she would fix things, and she was determined to keep good on her word.

No matter how miserable it made her.

The worst part was that Daisy noticed the emotional pull back.

She asked if something was wrong, and Candace flopped out a fib about how she was exhausted.

That she was trying her best, and everything was fine.

She encouraged Daisy to focus on the cafe and herself.

Candace was no stranger to playing oblivious when it came to placating hurt feelings with others.

Yet, lying to Daisy only made the pit in her stomach deepen.

Candace felt anchored by her past. It dragged her down, and she was letting it. For all the hurt she had caused, it was where she deserved to be. Daisy was the only one who could set her loose. Yet, Candace, mired in self-hate, kept pushing her away.

Until she could not.

The minute Candace arrived at the fun pier offices on another soupy late-summer morning, she was greeted by Janice.

The woman was, in the kindest terms, Uncle Perry’s sycophantic secretary.

Janice had been around longer than any of his other employees, and it was a sure bet that she knew where all the (hopefully) metaphorical bodies were buried.

She was a devoted Christian, the type who believed ‘imperfect vessels could produce God’s perfect works.

’ So, of course, she worshiped Peter Perry.

For as long as Candace had known her, the woman looked the same with her endless supply of knit sweaters worn even on the hottest summer days and long, ankle-length skirts. Today, it was the ugliest combination yet of puke green and a busy bathroom curtain of a floral pattern.

Practically bouncing with excitement, Janice told Candace, “The Solid Rock Group is stopping by today to work out some final details with Mr. Perry. He asked you to be at the meeting.”

“Why? That has nothing to do with me.”

Candace was a prop in those meetings. They never spoke to her, and only looked her way to leer. She was sick of it.

The woman’s eyes popped behind her glasses. She pushed them up the bridge of her pug nose with a disapproving look. She would never think of questioning Peter Perry’s wisdom, but she was too much of a coward to talk back to Candace, either.

“I didn’t ask. He’s a very busy man, Candy. I sent the details to your calendar.”

Flatly, Candace thanked her. Bending her schedule for a narcissist (anymore than she already was) had not been a part of her plan for today. Candace had bigger fish to fry, and she was running out of time.

In her desperation, Candace had even broken into Ernest Leary’s old office to root around.

The deceased accountant had always been a bit of an odd duck.

He was friends with her uncle, and a part of the boy’s club and Wonderwood’s regressive political sphere.

Yet, when Candace went off to college with aspirations in his field, Leary encouraged her.

The rigid values his type stuck to could bend in very odd places.

Unfortunately, there was nothing useful in the abandoned space, nothing important, as if anything consequential had already been cleared out.

For the rest of her day, up until the meeting later that afternoon, Candace continued her fruitless ‘straightening.’ She lost track of time and was the last to arrive at her uncle’s office.

The place was located off-boardwalk in a very nice colonial-style building on Wonderwood’s main street.

It was a historic building, an old ship captain’s mansion with a gorgeous widow’s walk balcony that overlooked the town below.

Peter Perry cared nothing for the history, of course, but enjoyed the prestige of doing business there.

Unlike his dank, mildewy space beneath the pier, this place was meant to impress.

Separate from his private study, business was conducted in a hall of a room that was gilded to the nines.

It had artful crown moulding, gaudy Victorian-style wallpaper, and ornate French salon furniture in a mock imitation of grandeur.

Candace had always thought her uncle decorated the place like a funeral parlor.

Meeting eyes with her glowering uncle, Candace took the open seat next to him. On his other side, Vinny Lamarka gave her a cringingly upbeat hello. The God Squad was seated on the opposite side of the oversized table. Spread out between the two groups were an array of documents.