Lorna Barrett - Bookplate Special

“Sure,” Tricia said, eager to do whatever it took to get Pammy out of her hair and out of her home. But then, even though her kindness had been abused, everything about this seemed so wrong, so… nasty… so unlike Tricia. “Where will you go, what will you do?”

“Today?” Pammy asked, and smiled. “I might just go to the opening of the village’s new food pantry.”

“The what?”

Pammy glowered at Tricia. “Don’t you even know what’s going on here in Stoneham? Stuart Paige is in town to dedicate the Stoneham Food Shelf.”

“Who?”

Pammy gave her a withering look. “Do a Google search on the man-see what good he’s done here in New Hampshire. You might want to follow in his footsteps.” Pammy grabbed her purse, slinging the strap over her shoulder before wrestling the heavy suitcase toward the door.

Stuart Paige? The name did sound familiar.

“Do you need some money?” Tricia asked, the guilt already beginning to seep in.

Pammy managed a wry smile. “You already took care of that, thank you. Look, I’m sorry I told you I had nowhere to go. That wasn’t exactly true. I’ve hooked up with some people here in Stoneham. I’m pretty sure I have a place to stay for the night-or maybe a few. You don’t have to worry about me, Tricia. I’ve survived on my own for a long time now, although I may have to actually get a job.”

For a moment, Tricia was speechless. Was it possible she could have tossed Pammy out days-even weeks-earlier, instead of fuming in silence? And what about the threat of actually looking for work? From what she’d said, Pammy had never held a job for more than a couple of months before some catastrophe would occur and she’d be asked to leave. Still, Tricia couldn’t shake feeling like a heel. As Pammy brushed past her, Tricia reached out to stop her. “I’m sorry, Pammy. It just wasn’t working out.”

“Don’t worry, Tricia. I always have a contingency plan.” She dug into her jeans pocket and came up with Tricia’s extra set of keys, handing them over. “Thanks.” And with that, she went out the door.

“Miss Marple,” Tricia called, and the cat dutifully hurried to the door. It was time for work. Tricia closed the dumbwaiter and sent it down, then shut and locked the apartment door as Miss Marple scampered down the stairs ahead of her. By the time Tricia got to the shop, Pammy was waiting for her to unlock the door that faced Main Street. Tricia retrieved Pammy’s second suitcase from the dumbwaiter and carried it to the exit. Pammy’s cheeks were pink, and for a moment Tricia was afraid she might be on the verge of tears. But when she spoke, her voice was steady.

“Good-bye, Tricia.”

“I’m sorr-”

“No, you’re not.” Pammy shrugged. “I’ll be back for those books in a couple of days. Bye.”

Tricia unlocked the deadbolt and waited for Pammy to exit, but her departing guest stayed rooted.

“Did you piss anyone else off?” she asked.

Tricia frowned. “What do you mean?”

Pammy stepped over what had once been a carved pumpkin. Now it lay shattered on the sidewalk just beyond the welcome mat outside the shop’s door.

“It didn’t belong to me.”

“No, carving a pumpkin is fun, and that’s something I’ll bet you haven’t had in a long, long time,” Pammy said, stepping over the orange mess. She continued north down the street, without another word or a backward glance.

Tricia studied the shattered pumpkin; its crushed, lop-sided, toothy grin looked menacing. She closed the door and went in search of a broom and a trash bag.

“Today isthe first day of the rest of your life.”

Never had an old saw held so much promise-and guilt-for Tricia. Though preoccupied with the whole Pammy situation, she managed to get through the store’s opening rituals. Pammy’s comment, that she might learn something from the likes of Stuart Paige-whoever he was-and the crack about having fun, had stung. She was a productive member of her community, pitched in at community events, and liked to think she treated her employees and customers well. And she had fun… sometimes.

Okay, not so much lately. She worked seven days a week, had no time for friends or hobbies, and her love life…

Lost in thought, she barely noticed when her assistant, Ginny Wilson, showed up for work a full fifteen minutes late.

“Sorry,” she apologized, already shrugging off her jacket. “The car wouldn’t start. Brian had already left for work, and I thought the guys from the garage would get to my place quicker than they did. And when I went to call you, the battery in my cell phone was dead.”

Tricia waved a hand in dismissal. “The day started out crappy, so nothing could upset me this morning.”

“Oh, good. Maybe I should ask for an extra day off-with pay,” Ginny said, and giggled.

“You’re not improving my mood,” Tricia said, but didn’t bother to stifle the beginnings of a smile that threatened to creep onto her lips.

“Isn’t Russ back today? That should cheer you up. Have you got a date with him tonight?” Ginny asked, rolling her Windbreaker into a ball and shoving it under the sales counter, along with her purse.

Tricia’s statement that nothing could upset her had obviously been a lie. Things hadn’t been going so well on the romance front. Pammy’s presence these past few weeks hadn’t helped. “I’m not sure if he’s back yet.” Russ had been traveling on business a lot lately, although he hadn’t exactly been candid about what that business entailed. As the owner/editor of the Stoneham Weekly News , why did he even need to go out of town, when nearly all his revenue came from local ads?

Ginny looked around the store, which was devoid of customers. “Goodness. Are we to have a Pammy-free day, or is she still in bed?”

“She’s gone for good-I hope,” Tricia affirmed. “After what happened yesterday, I felt I had to ask her to leave. I can’t risk a repeat of her carelessness-not when it comes to my customers.” She wasn’t about to mention the forged check.

“Hallelujah! Now the cookies and coffee we put out will actually go to our customers, instead of being hogged by that-that-” Ginny seemed at a loss for words. She scrutinized Tricia’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Tricia sighed. “I feel bad about the way I-”

“Tossed her out?” Ginny suggested.

“I did not toss her out. I merely suggested that two weeks was a tad long for a short visit. Pammy wasn’t the least bit fazed. In fact, she said she’d ‘hooked up’ with some local people.”

Ginny pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

“Do you think she could’ve found a boyfriend here in Stoneham?” Tricia asked.

“Stranger things have happened.” Ginny cleared her throat.

“Pammy mentioned the opening of a new food pantry here in Stoneham. What do you know about it?”

“Oh, yeah, I heard Stuart Paige is in town to dedicate it,” Ginny said.

“Stuart Paige…” Tricia repeated. “I’ve heard the name. I just can’t remember who he is.”

“Some rich mucky-muck. He gives away money. That’s got to be good karma, right?”

“I guess,” Tricia said. The circa-1930s black phone on the sales desk rang, and she grabbed the heavy receiver. “Haven’t Got a Clue, Tricia speaking.”

“Tricia, it’s Deborah Black.” Tricia’s fellow shopkeeper; owner of the Happy Domestic book and gift shop. “I just had a visit from your friend, Pam Fredericks. She wanted to know if I had a job opening. As it happens, I do. Did you know she’s listing Haven’t Got a Clue as her last place of employment?”

“What?”

“I thought that would be your reaction.” Tricia could hear the smile in Deborah’s voice.