CHAPTER 10
R ose Glen just so happens to be one town over from Cider Cove, and it’s just as cozy and sweet as my hometown as well.
I’ve been so preoccupied with the inn these past few years, I haven’t explored nearly half the places I’ve wanted to, and it just so happens that the Cozy Corner Grocer and Gourmet has been on my list of things to see for quite some time.
Bright red oak trees line the path as I wrangle Sherlock, Chestnut, and Acorn on their leashes while navigating our way through the parking lot. I’ve got Fish in a tote bag on my arm with her little furry head poking out so as not to miss a minute of our new adventure.
The sky is a lovely shade of lavender, albeit growing darker by the moment, and the air is as icy as can be.
The boutique grocery store is just up ahead with the windows plastered with paper turkeys and pumpkins, reminding just about everyone that Thanksgiving is just days away. I’ll admit, it gives me a thin rail of anxiety to think about.
I’ll be hosting all of our friends and family in the main dining room at the inn, and thankfully it’s all catered by the kitchen staff with most of the food prep done the day before and the rest of it is a volunteer effort by Emmie and our mothers.
I give my entire staff the day off. The inn is always quiet on Thanksgiving as people run out to visit with friends and family in the area. As for me, helping out with the food, well, it’s a pretty well-known fact I’m a disaster in the kitchen.
As hard as it is to believe, I’ve actually had to throw out my fair share of pots and pans because I’ve forgotten I was boiling water, and apparently, the pots and pans I buy can only handle so much heat before succumbing to the elements themselves.
Thankfully, Jasper’s takeout game is strong, and it only rivals mine. If we ever do have children one day, our kids will be well-versed in Chinese, Mexican, Italian, and Thai food. Those seem to be our culinary obsessions.
“Here we go,” I say as we step inside the boutique grocery store, and the first thing that hits me is the scent of smoked meats mingling with the heavenly aroma of freshly brewed coffee. It’s a strange combination, but oddly it works. And judging by the way my stomach is growling, it works all too well.
The cozy ambiance of the store wraps around me like a warm hug, instantly putting me at ease. It’s bright, fairly large as far as I can tell, and yet homey with its dark wood floors and warm yellow walls.
The registers sit up front and everyone seems to have brought their own tote bags to load the groceries in, with no sign of a single plastic bag in sight. The cashiers are all wearing green aprons and bright smiles as they chat away with the guests. To the left, there’s the café that Macy was talking about. And, sure enough, there’s more than a handful of dogs lolling around the feet of their humans as they both partake in a quick bite.
There’s a bakery just beyond that, a coffee counter, a deli, and a sushi bar. In the middle of the store, there are rows and rows of self-serve food stations where throngs of people are loading up cardboard cartons of food by the pound. To the right, there’s the produce section, and just before that sits a sundries area where they feature candles made from honeycombs and an array of organic cosmetics.
“Wow, this really is a one-stop shop,” I muse.
Sherlock lifts his soft brown eyes my way. I think our first stop should be the doggie buffet. Where is it, Bizzy?
I shake my head as I scour the landscape for it but come up empty.
“I don’t see it,” I whisper. “Maybe we should ask an employee?” No sooner do the words leave my mouth than I spot a tall brunette working the coffee counter. “And I see just the employee to ask.”
We head in that direction as my furry companions trot eagerly at my side, their tails wagging with excitement as they take in the sights and sounds of the bustling store. Fish peeks out from the confines of my tote bag and her bright green eyes survey the scene with curiosity.
I bet they’ve got a kitty bar here, too, she mewls. I can smell the fish from here.
Her namesake just so happens to be her favorite food. In fact, that’s how she got her moniker to begin with. She couldn’t seem to get enough of the fish I was feeding her those first few days and, well, the name sort of stuck.
I can’t get over how adorable this place is. It’s a charming mishmash of gourmet food and everyday essentials, with shelves lined with artisanal jams, locally sourced produce, and an assortment of specialty cheeses. A display of freshly baked pastries catches my eye, and boy, are their golden crusts glistening under the soft glow of the overhead lights.
But I can’t let myself get distracted.
I make my way over to the bustling café area, where customers sit huddled together at small tables sipping on steaming cups of coffee and nibbling on flaky croissants.
The air is filled with the gentle murmur of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. And somewhere layered beneath that, soft rock music filters through the speakers. It feels more like a party than a grocery store. But with the way my stomach is starting to claw at me, my body is fully aware there is plenty of food to be had here.
I approach the counter and catch sight of Magda Cooper who just so happens to be a part owner of the store. Her dark hair is up in a chignon and she’s donned the requisite green apron as she bustles about behind the espresso machine.
She glances my way and a genuine smile lights up her face as she greets me with a wave.
“You look familiar,” she sings. “Didn’t we meet at the inn?” She winces. “You’re Ree’s girl, the owner. And yet for the life of me, I can’t recall your name.” I want to say Dizzy, but that can’t be right. Who in their right mind would name their daughter Dizzy? Certainly not Ree. That woman is the most grounded person I know. It’s too bad we let time and all of the messiness of life get in the way of what was such a great friendship way back when.
“Yes, I’m Ree’s daughter, Bizzy.” I give a hard emphasis on the B above the din of the crowd and she laughs.
“That’s what it was, Bizzy! ” Good grief, am I ever relieved I didn’t call her Dizzy. But then, with a name like Bizzy, I probably couldn’t have been the first to make that unfortunate mistake. “ What can I get for you today? Ask for the moon because it’s on me.”
“Aw, thank you for that,” I say. “I’d love a pumpkin spice latte, decaf, please. I’m already far too energized for the day.” I guess my solidarity with Emmie lives on.
“Okay, but I’m throwing in one of our pumpkin cheesecake muffins. We can hardly keep them in stock.” She quickly puts both together and passes them to me. “Is there anything else I can get you? Anything at all?”
“Well, yes, actually,” I say. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to ask you a few questions.”
“Oh? Sure, anything at all.” She smiles. “What questions do you have?”
“They’re regarding Blythe Betty.”
Her smile fades and is quickly replaced with a frown.
Blythe? She shakes her head at the thought. What could she possibly want to know about that witch? I know one thing for sure. She’s not getting a single straight answer from me.