Page 18 of Stronger Than Blood

Chapter sixteen

Mick

I’d always figured the only reason the entity wasn’t worse was because Granny Ida kept him in his place.

She’d killed Preston Garrison, after all, and hadn’t hesitated to do so.

Now she was gone, his spirit was getting stronger, and I could sense it more often.

Not just in the house either. I was beginning to feel it…

almost as if his spirit was starting to plague me outside the house.

When I’d connected with Rory and all that…

transference had happened, I realized the entity, as Rory had called him, may not just be in the house any longer.

I was, and had always been, afraid the evil jackass would follow me around, actively haunting me, though I didn’t really think he was, not totally…

at least not yet. I knew it didn’t make sense, and had Rory not been at the farm when it threw the curtains back, I might have thought that was all in my mind.

I sorta wish it was in my head ’cause if I were insane, at least there’d be pills I could take to get rid of the constant feeling of fear that made me nervous and jumpy all the time.

Rory and I worked the next couple of days cleaning out Uncle Eddie’s store, although it seemed like just as we made some progress, another layer of trash emerged.

The only thing that made the work better were the occasional glances I got at Rory’s incredibly beautiful body.

Sometimes he’d even take his shirt off, and I was able to admire his muscles as he moved the trash or swept up around the building.

One time, I was so focused on him that I knocked over a container, which almost made me jump out of my skin.

We both broke out in hysterical laughter over that.

I was beginning to like having him around.

But regardless of how much I was enjoying watching Rory, I was also terrified of touching him, and I couldn’t pretend that by Friday morning, I wasn’t ready to work for Brenda rather than keep working on Uncle Eddie’s trash.

Rory surprised me once again, saying he was happy to continue working at the store if I wanted him to. At first, I refused, but he just shrugged and reminded me that he didn’t plan to be here forever.

There was something about Rory, something that caused me to trust him. And frankly, I didn’t trust people easily. I tended to think all strangers were dangerous until proven otherwise. There were even people here in Piston Creek who still hadn’t broken through my barriers entirely.

Rory was already different. I trusted him almost completely.

I wondered if it was just because of how attracted to him I was but then shook off the thought.

No, I’d been attracted to many men who I wouldn’t give the time of day to.

Regardless, even though I was sure everyone had been right in saying Uncle Eddie was likely hiding something under all the trash, I believed Rory wasn’t someone who’d steal it.

I would’ve wondered about that more, except the doctor had just walked into Granny’s room and was telling us he’d secured a room over at the rehabilitation center. “You will be more comfortable over there, and they have the new warm pool for occupational therapy, and—”

I listened as the doctor sold what was basically a nursing home to my great-grandmother.

Of course, the woman wasn’t buying it. More than once, she looked at me and rolled her eyes.

Finally, she’d had enough. “Okay, okay, doc. I got it. You want to put the old woman in a home, and the old woman is too damned weak to argue. But you take my word, I ain’t gonna go over there and waste away like all the rest of them old folks do.

I got canning to do and a whole mess of other stuff.

So you tell them busybodies over there they best be stepping it up if I’m going there.

No horsing around and putting me in a warm piss pool either.

You think I don’t know them old folks can’t hold their bladder? ”

The nurse who’d just come into the room snorted and dashed back out, and the poor doctor just shook his head. “The pool is filtered, but you don’t have to use it. You do, however, have to do your therapies if you want to get your strength back.”

“I’m ninety years old, Doc. I'm not a toddler who needs redirection. I’ll do what needs doin'. Now, when do you plan to boot my old ass outta here?”

I bowed my head, not wanting the doctor or Granny to see me smile. The old doctor looked as though he was on the verge of retirement himself. He couldn’t be more than a decade and a half younger than Granny, and I’m sure none of his other patients talked to him like he was a spoiled kid any longer.

I figured if either of them saw me smiling, one or the other might take to pulling my ear or some other old-fashioned punishment. “If you agree, we’ll have someone pick you up tomorrow morning to transport you."

“No, sorry, doc, I’ve got to work tomorrow morning, and I’d prefer to be with her if they’re going to transfer her to the nursing… um, I mean the rehabilitation facility.”

Granny gave me a pointed look at my almost saying nursing home. A place she swore she’d kill herself before going to. “Well, it’s Friday, so the best I can do is hold them off until afternoon. Can you be here by then?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I appreciate this, doc,” I said and felt Granny’s hand patting mine.

I knew she was afraid of going to the nursing home, and I understood why.

She’d told me her mom had been put into one back in the 1970s, and the place had been nothing less than a Halloween horror show.

No, I didn’t want her going, period, but I wasn’t trained to give her what she needed at home.

So, the very least I could do was be there when they transferred her.

***

Working with Brenda was everything I’d hoped. She was her usual happy, cheerful self. Of course, she was a perfectionist, just like her aunt, but I’d been taught to meet those expectations long ago. Besides, there wasn’t anything she wanted me to do that I hadn’t already done time and time again.

“Now, I don’t usually do meringue pies, but I’ve already had a dozen requests for your chocolate pie, now word’s gotten out that you’re working for me, so if you don’t mind whipping up a few of those, we’ll forgo the cobblers since folks can just come on over here and get those if they want them.”

“I’ve had a hankering to make chess pie lately. Those are always a favorite. Should I make up a couple of those too?” I asked, causing Brenda to beam.

“Oh, Mrs. Crouther asks for that all the time, but I never have time to make them. Yes, please. Tomorrow, I’ll have you bake a couple of cakes, just like you did at the grocery store.

Folks will be wanting to take both to their family lunches.

Oh, this is just wonderful,” she exclaimed.

“I’ve been wanting to do better with that sweet little shop over at the hotel, but I just didn’t have time or the staff,” she said before bouncing out into the main part of the café.

The crowds didn’t get busy early in the morning, but there was always a lot of prep to do, and I happened to know for a fact that Fridays were insanely busy.

I knew the pies were going to be displayed in the big glass coolers in the hotel. I wasn’t really one for the monster meringue toppings, but because those cases were so big, I figured I needed to boost the height a bit, at least.

Granny Ida had taught me how to make pie crust shortly after I’d moved in, so I’d had plenty of practice.

Now, I could make them in my sleep. I decided I’d make ten pies, two sweet potato, and two chess for the top shelf.

Then, six meringue pies for the lower shelf, and even after they were cut, they should still look pretty.

It only took me an hour to finish them all.

I usually made twice that many at the grocery store, so I had plenty of time left.

The other case in the hotel often sat empty.

According to Mrs. Danforth, the lady who ran the hotel, she didn’t have the clientele to buy up that much. I didn’t believe that for one minute.

There were people all over Piston Creek who would go to the little shop to grab dessert, provided we made it desirable enough, especially with the park on one side and the cute little convenience store on the other.

So, I fixed up a whole bunch of banana and chocolate pudding cups.

Luckily, Brenda had a lot of bakeable cups she used for her cobbler, which was a legendary dessert on her buffet.

But why would someone buy it there when they could come over here and get all-you-can-eat?

So, the moment I saw them, I knew they were exactly what I needed.

I still had a couple of hours left on the clock, so I made some banana and zucchini muffins using the same cups. I had just pulled those out when Brenda came in. “Lord have mercy, Mick, when did you have time to do all this?”

I laughed. “Well, I would’ve been faster, except I had to spend time finding everything I needed.”

“It’s a lot. I’m just not sure there’s enough of a market… but let’s get it over to the store,” she said, and I wondered if maybe I’d overstepped.

It was just after nine o’clock as we loaded the food into Brenda’s food van, which she sometimes used for catering. I’d helped her a couple of times on those gigs, so I knew how to store all the pies and stuff to prevent anything from getting bumped.

We drove the three blocks to the hotel and Brenda’s shop. Mrs. Danforth opened the door for us, and we were carting stuff in as people began arriving. “Oh, I’m so happy you’ve come to work with Brenda,” Linda Fox, a woman who’d been Joann’s secretary when I was in high school, said.

“Oh yes, we all agree,” several other ladies said, and they gathered as we carried the food in. By the time we were unloaded, poor Mrs. Danforth was in a frenzy, dishing up pie slices to go.

When the mayor arrived, she smiled happily at the display, which, to be honest, was haphazard with all the rushing around.

“Looks like we’ve got a new celebrity in town,” she said as I grabbed a pair of gloves and began scooping up orders as well.

Brenda, of course, had to get back to the café, but she looked sympathetically at us as she left.

“I’m not sure about celebrity, but I know how to fatten the townsfolk up,” I teased and got a backhanded tap on my shoulder from Mrs. Danforth. “Shh, no one wants to hear that when they’re tanking up on sweet Southern treats.”

“Listen to her, son,” Ms. Johnson said before taking a big bite of one of the muffins.

I stayed and helped as we basically cleared out the merchandise I’d cooked for the day. “Um, what happened?” I asked.

“Well, like the mayor said, before she all but got forced out of line, we have our baking celebrity in town.”

“We sold out, though. I mean, do you usually sell out?”

She shook her head. “No, we have a few regulars that come in for coffee and whatever Mrs. Kennedy has cooked up, but no, besides that, we don’t sell that much.”

I sighed. “Well, do you think we’ll get another run tomorrow?”

Mrs. Danforth winked. “Yes, it’ll be much worse tomorrow ’cause every one of the women you saw here today will tell everyone how delicious your pies were.”

“Oh,” I said, then sucked in a deep breath. “Well, I guess that means I’ll be coming in early. Is the only way in through the front door? I’d like to get set up before folks come in. This looks like a tornado hit it.”

Mrs. Danforth chuckled. “I’m afraid so unless you want to come through the back door, but you’ll have to walk all the way through the hotel. This is much better.”

“Okay, well, I’m going to talk to Brenda and see what she thinks. Maybe we should double up for tomorrow. She wanted me to make some cakes too. Do you think they’ll sell?”

“Oh, I think whatever you make will sell. I’ve not had anything you’ve cooked yet, but I’ve been hearing how excited they all are about Mrs. Kennedy hiring you. I guess you’ve got quite a following from your time at the grocery store.”

“I guess I do. Well, okay, I’ll help you get cleaned up.”

She chuckled. “No need. All I have to do is toss these used pie plates and wipe things down. Now, if we’d have gotten anything into the display cases, then I’d have asked for help.”

I nodded. “Um, well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I told Brenda what had happened, and she looked surprised, then smiled. “Okay, well, you said you can work faster now you’ve had time to find stuff.”

“Or I can come in earlier. In fact, I prefer to work alone, and if I’m not dancing around your other workers, I can get a lot more done in a shorter time.

I can also get all the food moved over and the displays filled before people bombard the store.

Do you mind if I come in around one or two in the morning? ”

She opened and shut her mouth a couple of times before she shrugged. “I don’t mind at all, and you seem to know what you’re doing. But I can’t come in that early. Elias is wanting me to come in fewer hours, not more.”

I laughed. “I won’t need you, trust me. I worked the night shift at the grocery store and got used to being there alone. I prefer it, like I said.”

“Okay, well,” she said and worked a key off her chain, “you come on in when you want and just clock in. Mrs. Danforth has Beth Langly manning the desks at night, but I’ll speak to her so she knows to let you in when you’re ready to move stuff over.”

“Thanks, Brenda. I promise we’ll work through all the rough spots. But if today’s traffic is any indication, you’ve got yourself a nice little side hustle over there.”

She nodded and smiled, although it was weak at best. I think maybe I’d caused my poor cousin more of a headache than she’d anticipated. Not that I wasn’t just as surprised as she was.