Chapter Twenty-Four

That evening, I slugged through my apartment doorway. I kicked off the boots and literally dragged myself to the kitchen. I threw the helmet on the island. I ought to hurry and shed my work clothes and hop in the shower before Jenny came home and discovered what I’d done. She would ream me out ’til Hades seemed palatable. After Allan's lecture, I didn’t need another one. I touched my jeans’ front pocket where I’d stashed Allan’s check.

Think about it.

I couldn't stop thinking about his check. I held the ridiculous pole with the absurd signs and daydreamed about owning my own business. However, all I seemed to do was think. Fanciful pictures of a cute boutique with large windows and the name in a black flowing script filled my head. I planned exactly what kind of inventory I could buy, too.

Until one of the kill-me strangers laid on his horn and jerked me from the moment.

Sigh. I dug Allan’s check from my pocket and set it on the kitchen counter. Although generous, I needed more to make my venture a “go.”

I snagged a granola bar from the pantry, and just as I chomped into the peanuts and oats, I heard an “ahem.”

I rotated slowly and found my good bud, Jenny, standing behind me. Then a colossal realization smacked me sideways—she came home early, and I hadn’t cleaned up.

One big fat oops.

“Nice outfit.” Jenny gestured toward the helmet. “Killer.”

“Thanks.” I took a bite. “You know me, always prepared.”

She slid onto a barstool. “For Halloween.”

I popped open the trashcan and tossed the filmy covering of the granola bar inside.

“Exactly when did you plan on informing me—or any of the Funsisters—about your job?”

“Hey, I hadn’t got around to saying anything to anyone.” With my mouth stuffed with crunchy bits, I shrugged. “How I pay my rent is none of your concern.”

Jenny passed me the “whatever” look.

“Okay. Fine. I’m tired of the crazy temp jobs and found one with the highway department.” I thumbed my chest. “I’m a flagger.”

Her brow lifted. “Hmm. You look as if you have been shoveling ditches.”

I leaned against the wall. “A little road grime never hurt anyone.”

“Don’t touch—”

“I’ll clean it.” I found paper towels and a spray bottle of soap under the sink. I covered the spot with liquid and wiped the smear. “And abracadabra.”

“Lovely. Now take off your shirt and pants and put them in the washer before you contaminate anything else.”

Jenny sounded exactly like my mother when I worked at Amazing Adventureland theme park with my friend Maggie. A day of sunshine produced sweaty pits and stinky feet. I’d parked my Keds outside the garage to air them.

I unbuttoned my shirt, toed off my socks, and slipped off my jeans when I remembered Allan’s check on the counter.

Jenny dragged the paper closer. “What is this?”

Uh-oh. “Pretty self-evident. A gift. From Allan.”

“Interesting.” Jenny took the check and read. “And a whole lotta moola. What for?”

I tossed the grimy pants in the washer. I stood in front of Jenny in my bra and panties, the ratty ones, barely covered by the unbuttoned shirt, exposed in many ways like the naked adventurers in the TV survival show.

I overlapped my arms over my chest. “Allan said I’m supposed to—quote—think about it—unquote.”

“Think about…what?”

“My future. A store.”

Jenny nodded. “Gotcha.” She dropped his check and disappeared into her room. She returned with a paper of her own, which she placed side by side with Allan's. “Here's mine. For your future.”

I pressed my lips into a level line and held back the overwhelming emotions which threatened to make me weep like a two-year-old. “I can’t take it, Jenny.”

“You can. It’s time.”

I examined the check. The dollar amount—notable. Hers matched Allan’s—five thousand dollars. “This is your life savings.”

“Some. Not all.”

“I-I”—I brushed my hand over my forehead, feeling the asphalt dust on my fingers—“I hate the highway job.”

“Of course, you do. It wasn’t the career you were meant to have.”

Jenny circled the peninsula and barely patted my shoulder. “Maybe I’ll quit Tuckers and join you. We can open a store. We can develop a business plan. Who knows?”

My eyes went large. “You'd leave your buying job and join me?”

Rubbing her chin, she nodded. “I might.”

“Okay, we can talk. Think. But first, a shower.”

“The water bill says you’ve been taking looonnng ones,” she said. “You’re wasting precious resources.”

“The drowned rat has resurrected.” I laughed. My prospects had changed. With a best friend by my side and money from another one, I felt empowered. “Hey.”

Jenny swiveled about.

“Want to go somewhere with me?”

She squeezed her brow. “Depends. Where?”

“Wedding Wonderland.”

“Oh.” She crooked aside her head. “Back to the crime scene?”

I nodded.

Jenny pursed her lips. “Okay. Give me a sec.”

****

After I showered away the road dirt and dressed, I let Jenny drive us to Wedding Wonderland in her car because she vowed to never ride in the scary rental. She steered into a spot near the storefront and killed the engine.

Amazed, I stared into the blackened abyss. I opened the car door and exited. Jenny did the same thing. We circled the front end and leaned against the front bumper. I couldn't take my gaze off the overcooked remains.

Jenny knocked my side with her hip. “You got the willies?”

“I should.” A chill raced up my arm. Scary. I nodded. “I do.”

“Wouldn't blame you if you did have them. I do even now. I grew a few gray hairs when I heard how you escaped. Luckily, I have an excellent hairstylist.”

I shifted my gaze to the area of the storeroom office and gulped. A terrifying pain rooted in my chest and made my pulse pound. If a few more minutes had passed, I would have been a goner. “Looking at it, I’m amazed I got away. Not an experience I want to repeat.”

Thank goodness I'd been determined to save myself.

The ruins of the men's haberdashery couldn’t be missed either. All the wet, charred, broken remains. Can’t work at that store either.

I rubbed the scar on the top of my hand where a cinder did its best damage when the gowns flamed and spouted. “I think I trust people too much.”

Jenny tilted her head. “Being kind is a virtue. Your mother raised you to be so. To work hard. To respect others.”

I gave a negative toss of my head. “I'm naive. I trust easily.”

“You won't go through this again.”

“No. Never.”

Another car rolled into the lot and parked beside Jenny’s. I looked over and saw my mom— What is she doing here?

Mom exited her vehicle and moved toward Jenny and me. “Hi, girls.”

I stood straighter and kissed her cheek. “Mom.” I did my best not to choke.

“Mrs. Cooks.”

“I was headed home when I saw you two.” She crossed her arms over her chest, almost transfixed by the devastation. Then she turned. “You okay?”

“Yes.” I went back to rest against the front bumper and stare at Wonderland.

“Jenny, is she?” Mom asked.

Jenny wobbled her head. “I think so. However—”

“I can’t wait to hear.”

“You should ask about her latest temporary job.”

Label my best friend a traitor.

Mom’s perfectly plucked and outlined eyebrow arched. “Oh?”

“Highway flagger.” I said out the side of my mouth for Jenny's ears, “Bigmouth.”

Jenny barely giggled.

Mom huffed a sigh. “I need a moment.” She dropped her handbag on the hood of Jenny’s sedan and took out…her checkbook. After she scribbled for a bit, she ripped off a sheet and folded my fingers over it.

I looked at the paper. The amount written— Whoa! My heart flipped over. “Mom?”

“For you…to open your store.”

“How funny,” Jenny said. “I gave her a check. Allan did, too.”

I passed back Mom's offering. “I can't take your money.”

“Why not?” Mom asked. “You took Allan's and Jenny's. You can take mine.”

“I’m just thinking about theirs. I didn’t commit.”

“Maybe you should. I have faith in you and so do your friends.” Mom grinned.

“You people don't get it.” I so didn't want to confess my innermost truth.

“Get what?” she asked.

“What-what…” And from God knew where, I blurted out, “what if I fail?”

“You think we'd let you fail?” Jenny snorted. “Not in our lifetime. Besides, failure isn’t such a big deal. People who fail learn something.”

“You’ve never failed.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “I did fail a long time ago.”

“When?”

“At sixteen. I took the driving test three times. Parallel parking’s a killer.”

I raised my gaze to the heavens.

“It was awful,” Jenny said. “My brother drove me everywhere until I passed the driving section. My parents insisted I pay him, too.”

Mom and I smiled at each other.

Mom nodded. “I failed once.”

“You?” I pointed.

“Me. Pot roast 101. Raw. Your dad ate a huge piece and never said a word. Luckily, he didn’t get ptomaine.” Mom stuffed her check in my hand again. “Do it, Hattie. I have every confidence in you.”

“In me?”

“More than you know.” She recrossed her arms and looked at the building remains. “Now, we have another quandary. What to do about Tracey's wedding dress? As you know, the one she bought at Wedding Wonderland is all gone. Poof.”

I stuffed the check in my front pants' pocket. “I have an idea—”

“What?”

Jenny and Mom looked at me as if I’d never had a brainwave before now.

“You're such alarmists. I could call the alterations lady, and we could do a nip and tuck on Mom's gown.”

“My gown?” Mom bit her lip. “Would Tracey wear mine?”

“She would.” I wound my arm with my mother’s and laid my head against her shoulder. The scent of roses tickled my nose. “It’s the best alternative. I don't know why we didn't think of it anyway.”

Mom melted. “I would like her to. What can we do about the cake?”

I found a small stone at my feet and picked it up. I lightly tossed it in the air a couple of times. As Jenny opened the car door, I halted long enough to rest my hand on the top of the hood. “I have an idea about the cake, too. How about cupcakes decorated like flowers and arranged on tiered cake plates?” With a smile, I walked to the passenger side and slid inside the vehicle.

Jenny started her sedan. “Smarty pants. Guess you did learn something while working here.”