A familiar dark head catches my gaze and I lean over the sink to peer out the window. I recognize Mitch’s stride, but I only see a glimpse before he disappears. Jogging to the window over the counter for a better view, I press my nose against the glass and search the public docks where I saw him.
There.
He’s carrying a box across the parking lot and down onto the docks.
What’s he doing? Did he rent a boat?
Is he bringing supplies to his house?
No, that doesn’t make any sense. There’s no dock at his house, and why would he use a boat to transport anything when his truck is much more convenient?
Mitch walks back up the steps empty handed and disappears out of view once again.
Short of walking outside, there’s no way I can see what he’s doing.
Once again, he strides into view carrying another box.
An older woman with steel gray short hair walks behind him toting a bag in each hand.
Who is she?
He must be helping her, but with what?
“What are you gawking at? There an accident or something?”
Springing away from the window, I face Sally. Before I can come up with a plausible excuse or distraction, she marches over and cranes her neck to look out the window.
“Oh look, it’s Margie Swanson. She must be getting her groceries. She lives on one of the islands and comes to town once a month to pick up supplies. Now I see what’s got your attention. Your young man is helping her carry her stuff to the boat.”
She leans back and pats me on the shoulder. “You’ve got a keeper there.”
My mouth opens so I can tell her he’s not my anything, but then I snap it closed. I can’t very well confess it’s all a charade.
“I saw your friend, Mrs. Roberts, headed this way and thought you might like to know. I’ll keep an eye on things back here for you.”
“Oh.” I cast my gaze around the kitchen. “There’s nothing due to come out of the ovens for a while yet.” I point to one of the rolling racks. “Those cookies should be cool by now if you want to bring them up front.”
Sally nods and I walk out front as the bell over the front door jingles.
Mrs. Roberts steps in leaning heavily on her cane and looks around before smiling at me. “Hello, Franny.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Roberts. What can I get for you? You’re not out of meringues already, are you?”
She stops in front of the display case and rests both hands on top of the cane while she peers inside. “No, no, I have plenty of meringues left. I need something sweet for my bridge game tonight.”
“Okay, do you have anything in mind? A cake? Pie? Tartlets?”
“I’m not sure, everything looks so tempting. I would prefer individual servings so we don’t have to worry about making slices or plates and silverware. What would you recommend?”
“The fruit tartlets don’t require more than a napkin. I could box up an assortment of cookies for you. There are also cupcakes, doughnuts, muffins, or these mini cheesecakes and mousse cakes.”
“Oh my, I’m partial to cookies, but those little cakes look delicious.”
“Would you like a sample or two to decide?” It’s not something I frequently offer, but for Mrs. Roberts, I will bend the rules. “Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll bring a couple over?”
A rest before she heads back home couldn’t hurt.
“Thank you, dear.”
While she shuffles over to the chair, I pour her a cup of tea and grab a few items for her to sample.
“You know, you could call me anytime and tell me what you’d like. I’ll deliver them to you.”
“Oh, that’s so kind of you, but I enjoy getting out for a stroll. It’s good for me.”
“Okay, but the offer is always open.”
“Are you working alone today?”
“No, Sally is in back. She saw you coming and told me so I could visit with you.” I glance over my shoulder towards the kitchen. Sally should’ve brought the cookies up front by now.
“Humph—I doubt her reasons are so altruistic.”
“What do you mean?” Did Mrs. Roberts not like Sally?
They have both lived in town for as long as I can remember and are in the same generation, but they don’t socialize together as far as I know.
She stirs her tea and then raises her chin. “You recall I told you about my late husband’s penchant for charming other women?”
I nod once and freeze in place. Sally?
Her gaze meets mine and she nods. “Just so.”
My mouth grows slack. Sally?
I clamp my lips together and gaze over my shoulder to the kitchen. Holy crap!
Had Sally been avoiding her since she started working here? How had I never noticed? Actually, Mrs. Roberts usually came in during the afternoons when Olivia worked. Intentionally?
I slide onto the chair across from her. She takes a bite of each confection, sips her tea, and looks up.
“They are all wonderful. I’ll take two of each, please. Also, would you mind wrapping the rest of these up for me? I can’t finish them and I would like to save them for later.”
“Of course.” I carry them over to the counter and box them up.
It doesn’t look like she’s going to elaborate.
What am I going to say to Sally? Should I even say anything? If she wanted to talk about it, she would have mentioned something.
Although, I can’t imagine how that conversation will go. It’s not like she is likely to say she didn’t want to wait on Mrs. Roberts because she had an affair with Mr. Roberts.
I package the rest of her order and put both boxes in a bag.
Mrs. Roberts uses her cane to rise from the chair and walk over to the register.
Do I know any of the other women her husband had affairs with? Images of all the women around her age flash through my mind.
“The ladies will love your sweets, thank you.” She hands me her money.
I smile and finish ringing up the sale.
“Enjoy, Mrs. Roberts. Have a good game.” I can’t think of anything else to say. I don’t know the first thing about bridge and my brain is still stuck on the multitude of possibilities and ramifications of who Mr. Roberts was fooling around with.
The bell over the door announces her departure.
I huff out a breath and turn facing the kitchen. I’m going to follow Sally’s lead. If she doesn’t say anything, then neither will I.
Sally is drying her hands at the sink. I glance at the cookies all still sitting on the rack.
“The cookies were still a little warm, so I cleaned the counters instead.”
I had checked them before she came into the kitchen to announce Mrs. Roberts’ impending arrival. They weren’t warm.
“Okay.”
“They might be cool now. I’ll bring them out now, if you want.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll bring him out in a little bit. You go ahead.”
She nods and walks out of the kitchen with her head down.
Had she heard Mrs. Roberts tell me?
If she had stood by the archway and listened, she could have heard what was said.
The counter is clean and there are dishes drying in the rack. She might have been cleaning the entire time and heard nothing.
I shrug and walk over to lean on the counter. I have no desire to broach the topic with her anyway. It’s really none of my business.
There’s a knock on the back door. Mitch opens it and walks inside. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I wanted to tell you I’ll be out of town for a few days. I’ve got a few things to tie up back in California.”
“When will you be back?”
“I’m not sure. I’m going to stop and see my folks once I’m done, but no longer than a week.”
A week?
No Mitch for an entire week?
I’ve gotten used to seeing him every day. Well, almost every day.
I guess that means no drives or accomplishing anything else on our list.
“You must miss them, being so far away.”
“Yeah, I always try to make sure I see them at least once every couple of months. Sometimes it’s hard if I’m on location but they’ve visited me a few times when I couldn’t get away.”
It must be nice to have a close relationship with your family, to want to spend time with them and not feel like a perpetual disappointment to them.
But then, how could any parent not be proud of Mitch?
“What are your plans for the week?”
“Nothing special.”
Same as any other week, I’ll be here at the bakery.
“When I get back, we’ll have to plan to tackle one of the things on our list.”
I smile.
“I looked it up, there’s a train if driving up Mt. Washington scares you too much.”
“The Cog. I’m not sure that would be any less scary, have you seen the track it climbs on? It’s steep.”
Mitch chuckles, leans against the counter next to the sink and folds his arms across his chest.
“We could try both and see which is worse. An experiment.”
“You’re going to enjoy torturing me, aren’t you?”
“If you’re really too scared, you don’t have to do it. We can do something else.”
“No, I want to.”
“You don’t look very convincing.”
I stand straighter and lift my chin. “Better?”
“Okay, if you’re sure, we’ll plan it when I get back.”
Let’s hope my courage lasts that long.
“Be good while I’m gone. No running off with Blake.”
Blake? Oh, Bobby.
Mitch heads for the door.
“I make no promises. Bring me back a souvenir.”
He looks over his shoulder. “Promise and I’ll bring you back anything you want.”
Anything?
Smiling, I cross my arms around my waist. “Okay.”
“Deal?”
“Deal.”
He opens the door. “You going to tell me what you want?”
“Surprise me.”
Mitch winks and walks out the door.
“Be safe.” I call out before the door closes.
“Who was that?”
Olivia stands in the archway smiling at me.
Was it time for her shift already? A glance at the clock confirms it is.
“Hi Olivia.”
She is still staring at the door.
“It was the new tenant upstairs.”
Sally poked her head in the kitchen. “I’m heading out now.”
“Thanks Sally, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Are you still coming over tonight after work? I’m planning on throwing shish kebabs on the grill. The boys insisted I buy a watermelon at the grocery store so outside dining is a must for the sticky faces and fingers.”
No more hiding.
“I’m looking forward to it.”