Donally, Claire - Cat Nap (A SUNNY & SHADOW MYSTERY)

“Take it easy,” she assured him, “we’re not going after your food.”

Sunny bent to get into the cabinet and began passing cans down to Mike. “Yikes!” she exclaimed as she found one that was so swollen, it wobbled as her hand brushed it.

Carefully picking up the container, she looked at the label. “When did you ever buy canned apricots? And why?”

Mike shrugged. “Can’t say.” Then he held up a finger, frowning. “Wait a minute. There was a recipe in the magazine that comes with the Sunday paper. It was for homemade barbecue sauce. You started out running canned apricots through a blender.”

“And when was this?” She nervously eyed the deformed can. Its top and bottom made little domes.

“Barbecue season,” her dad replied. “Summertime.” He squinted into the air, trying to call up the memory. “Can’t have been last summer. I was still pretty much out of it. Didn’t go shopping on my own. Maybe it was the summer before? Or the year before that?”

“Whenever it was, we’re lucky this thing didn’t explode and leave us cleaning apricots and sticky apricot juice from all these shelves,” Sonny said. “Why don’t you get a bag, and we’ll put this away separately.”

She carefully combed each shelf, but luckily the can of apricots was the only time bomb she discovered. The contents of each shelf got divided—what could go, what should stay—and the keepers were returned to the cabinet. By the time they were done, they’d accumulated a good-sized collection of stuff that Mike shouldn’t be eating anymore—canned hash, sloppy Joe mix, Vienna sausage, jars of meat sauce, and a lot of salty canned vegetables.

“Canned potatoes?” Sunny said in disbelief, hefting a can. “You couldn’t just cook a potato?”

“They’re cut up in little chunks.” Mike defended his choice. “Good for making potato salad.”

They also contributed some dry food to the collection. For some reason, Mike was heavily overstocked on corn muffin mix. And he also added most of their boxes of flavored gelatin. “I had more than enough of that stuff in the hospital,” he said. “And when I came home here, flat on my back, I ate it to please you. No more. If I get really sick again, let’s stick with applesauce.”

Mike went into the garage and returned with a cardboard carton marked “Books.”

“One of the ones you already emptied,” he quickly explained when he saw the look of dismay on Sunny’s face. “I figured if it could stand up to your library, it should be able to hold this stuff.”

Sunny agreed and, after they got everything stowed away, asked, “Do you want to drive over now?”

“It’s getting kind of late.” Mike glanced out the window. The light was already fading. “We’ll both go tomorrow. That’s when Helena will be there,” he added in as offhand a tone as possible.

“Okay,” Sunny said, reaching up to the top of the fridge to pet Shadow while he nuzzled against her hands. That let her hide her grin from Mike. If he wants to impress his lady friend, it’s not my business.

“ Besides,” Mike went on, “I’ve got some buddies to call. After I tell them what we found in our cabinets, maybe they’ll decide to clear theirs out and donate, too.”

*

Sunday morning wasbright but chilly, although it warmed up in the afternoon. Mike finished his three miles of hiking around the outlets, then they loaded their donations into his car.

“Where is this food pantry?” Sunny asked as they drove off. “Is it downtown?”

Mike shook his head. “Real estate there is too expensive. They’re in a store on Stone Road—what used to be a store. Place went bust, and the landlord can’t get a new tenant, so he’s letting the Elmet Ladies use it.”

Sunny nodded. Even in a long-settled development like the New Stores, there was always one hard-luck shop. Sunny had seen three tenants, for example, in the space next door to the MAX office. As a landlord, though, it was probably against Ollie Barnstable’s principles to let the place out for free.

As they neared their destination, Sunny recognized the place. It was a stand-alone store with a good-sized parking lot. First it had been a showroom for high-end car stereos and alarms, and then a guy had tried to operate a computer repair shop. Its last incarnation had been as a ninety-nine-cent store, and even that had failed.

“They couldn’t get people out here even to buy cheap crap,” Mike said, nodding at the number 99 that still showed in the plastic sign over the door. “They left it up because it’s the 99 Elmet Ladies.”

A hand-painted poster saying FOOD PANTRY had been taped to the inside of the window.

Sunny got out their box of food. Mike held the door for her as she entered the store. It was a very bare-bones arrangement. A makeshift counter stretched across the interior space, cutting off the back corner of the former store. It had obviously been knocked together out of plywood, although an attempt had been made to create a homier atmosphere by stapling gingham-style plastic tablecloths over the bare wood. Behind the counter, industrial-style metal bookcases stood at right angles against the walls. Helena Martinson and several other women stood stocking or rearranging the contents. While the shelves weren’t quite bare, they weren’t overflowing either.

Mrs. Martinson spotted them and went to the counter. “Oh, thank you, Mike! And Sunny,” she added.

“Not many customers,” Sunny said, glancing around. Except for herself, Mike, and the Elmet Ladies, the store was empty.

“Officially, we’re closed on Sundays,” Mrs. Martinson explained, “except for real emergencies—and to restock.” She began unloading the carton they’d brought, arranging the contents into different piles.

“Ah,” she said in satisfaction when she came across the hams. “We try to come up with three meals a day for each customer, but it’s hard to offer anything balanced when we’re depending on donations. Zack Judson tries to help, giving us some of his overstock, and we’re trying to shame the big supermarkets into helping, too.”

She noticed the hand-lettered label on the side of the box. “If you’ve got any books you’d like to get rid of, Sunny, we’ll be holding a sale next month.” Her cheeks got a little pink with embarrassment, but she continued her pitch. “We’ve got to raise funds any way we can.”

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” Sunny promised, remembering the hectic job of getting her stuff out of her old apartment. “Thinning the herd might be a good idea. It will give us a bit more space in the garage, although Shadow will miss the piles of boxes. He likes to play at mountain climbing.”

“Toby likes to climb, too.” Helena bobbed her head a little, grimacing. “At least he tries. Most of the time he tumbles and takes something down with him.”

“Youthful energy,” Sunny said hopefully. “Sooner or later, he’ll settle down.”

“It’s a lot more responsibility than I realized, taking on a pet.” Mrs. Martinson finished her sorting and called over a couple of the other ladies. “Maybe I should have listened to Carolyn Dowdey—”

“Carolyn Dowdey!” One of the other women made the name sound like a bad word. “When we set up the 99 Elmet Ladies and made plans, she was right in the middle of everything, voicing her opinions on how to do everything. But when it comes to volunteering to help out—I haven’t seen her in almost a year.”

“Her cat was very sick, and Carolyn had to spend a lot of time taking care of her,” Mrs. Martinson offered weakly.

But now she has the time to go and squawk at Zack Judson, Sunny thought.