Fat Cat Takes The Cake

“Well, yah. We bought new outfits.” Chase had gotten out her outfit again in the morning and re-examined it. She still liked it. They both bought jacket dresses. Julie’s had a short, flouncy, flirty skirt that matched her favorite silk scarf, while Chase’s was a bit longer with a draped-front jacket. The sale rack at Macy’s had been a gold mine. When you went shopping with Julie, you got results. That woman was a shopper.

“Didn’t he run for mayor of Minneapolis recently?” Julie asked.

A pair of mallards floated past, in the middle of the river, avoiding the ice beginning to form at the shoreline. Chase wondered what they were still doing in Minnesota. Maybe they hung out at a hot spring somewhere for the winter.

“Three years ago,” Chase said. “He lost by a lot, as I recall. I’ll bet ten dollars he’s going to run again next time.”

“I won’t bet against that, but I’ll bet you twenty he loses again.” Julie grinned.

Chase’s cell phone trilled. Julie raised her eyebrows and Chase shrugged to show she didn’t know who was calling. “Yes?”

“This is Ron North, Chase. Remember me?” The voice was unfamiliar. A man’s voice, but not very deep. An image of a skinny, sweaty guy was forming.

She frowned. His face was back there in the nether part of her brain, but out of reach. “I’m sorry—”

“Reporter for the Herald Gopher.”

“Okay.” She subscribed to that paper, but couldn’t remember seeing his name in it.

“Hey, we went to Hammond High together. I worked for the school paper then.”

Chase had worked for the school paper, but didn’t recall that Ron North had. At first. She dug a little further into her memories. Now she had him. A small, thin, wiry, nervous guy.

“Oh. Yes?” Why was he calling her?

“I was wondering. I got a idea for a article.” An idea for an article, she corrected him mentally. “I’d like to do a piece called ‘Local Girl Makes Good.’ You got that shop, right? That bakery?”

“I co-own the Bar None. It’s a dessert bar shop. That’s the only thing we bake.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short. Those’re good. So, what do you say?”

“To what?” She frowned and shook her head at Julie, who probably thought Chase was fending off a cable salesman.

“I’ll come by, do an interview, snap some shots. Get you in the paper.”

“When?”

“I’ll let you know. Talk to you later.”

With that, he was gone. “That was odd.” She told Julie about the call.

“I remember him well. Don’t you?” Julie made a sour face. Her hands, shaking her handlebars, sent tremors through her bike. “He had the most annoying crush on me. I couldn’t get rid of him for the longest time.”

“Oh, was he the stalker guy? How could I forget?”

“I’ll never forget.” Julie glanced at her watch. “Gotta get back.” She turned her bike and jumped onto the seat.

“Me, too.”

Chase remembered Ron clearly now. Julie had been greatly disturbed by the persistent, annoying, unwanted attention. She had started staying in at night, not socializing. Then, suddenly, he had switched his obsession to someone else and Julie had started living again.

•   •   •

An hour later Chase was showered and opening up the Bar None. The shop was busy in December and got busier the closer they came to the holidays. It was three weeks until Christmas. The tinkling bell on the front door got a workout all morning.

The two salesclerks worked in the front, Anna baked in the kitchen, and Chase worked in the office on orders and payments. When Chase finished up her computer work midmorning, she went out front to help.

“Chase, how are you?”

It was that reedy, young-sounding, male voice. She was surprised to see Ron North in the shop.

“Did we set a time?” She was sure they hadn’t.

“I had an errand across the street and saw, hey, here was your store.” He dug a notebook and pencil out of his jacket pocket and propped his skinny hip on one of the small display tables, dislodging a stack of dessert bar boxes.

Chase jumped to catch them before they hit the floor.

“Oh, sorry.” He fiddled with the pencil between two fingers, then dug a few peanuts out of his pocket and tossed them into his mouth.

She was recalling more bits and pieces about him. She remembered how he had always made her nervous when he was hanging around Julie. He was full of tics and usually sweaty. She remembered now that he had been on the school newspaper staff until he had to leave because of his grades. The smell of peanuts emanating from him triggered her memory, too. He had always reeked of peanuts.

As she restacked the boxes he continued. “How about that article? ‘Local Girl Makes Good’? Looks like you have a nice place going here. You own it, right?”

“I’m the co-owner,” Chase answered cautiously. “Anna Larson owns the Bar None with me.” She wasn’t sure she wanted Ron North to do an article on her. She glanced around at the full shop. “This isn’t a good time to chat, Ron. Maybe another time?”

“Sure, sure. I’ll just walk around and get some local flavor. Get it? Flavor?”