Fat Cat Takes The Cake

Chase gave him a wan smile and nodded, then moved on to people who were interested in buying dessert bars.

A young couple stood frowning at the display case while Mallory was busy taking money from two college coeds for two boxes of Margarita Cheesecake Bars. Chase explained what some of the ingredients were in several types of bars, keeping track of Ron North out of the corner of her eye. She hoped he wouldn’t knock any more boxes down.

He strolled beside the pink shelves on the sidewall filled with boxes and bumped another table, but not hard enough to topple the stack of boxes. She couldn’t figure out what he was doing. He wasn’t, she was sure, interested in buying, and she had told him she couldn’t talk. Maybe he was waiting for a lull in business? Good luck, she thought. It might stay like this until six.

Chase’s next surprise was seeing Dickie and Monique Byrd walk into the store.

“Charity Oliver,” Dickie boomed, sticking out his hand.

At the moment, she wasn’t waiting on any customers. She shook his outstretched hand, soft and dry, wondering if he had looked her up in the yearbook immediately before dropping in. If he remembered her, he’d call her Chase. No one called her Charity except Anna.

“Maybe we don’t need to have a reunion if everyone is going to come into my shop,” Chase said, using a smile and a tilt of her head to soften her words. “Ron North is here, too.”

“Ho, ho, ho!” Dickie sounded like Santa Claus.

“Monique, nice to see you again.” Chase reached to shake his wife’s hand since he wasn’t going to acknowledge that she was there. The woman kept her hands to herself and stared at Chase’s. That’s a little odd, Chase thought. Chase peeked at her own hand in case it was covered in dough or powdered sugar. That wouldn’t have surprised her, but it seemed clean.

Ron was inching toward the front door.

“I wondered if you could do me a big favor,” Dickie said. “Mona, give Charity a poster.”

Chase remembered that Monique had been called Mona in school. Sometimes she was called Mona the Mouth because she talked so much. Chattered on and on about nothing. It seemed she had gotten over that. Or maybe she couldn’t get a word in with Dickie running off at the mouth like he did.

Monique caught sight of Ron North and flinched, her eyes wide and frightened for a split second. Ron seemed to sneer at her, then threw open the door and left. Monique returned her attention to them, completely composed. She dipped into the large, heavy-looking bag she carried and pulled out a roll of paper. She unfurled what proved to be an eleven-by-seventeen-inch poster, which she handed to Chase, being careful not to touch hands or fingers.

Her phobia about touching people suddenly clicked in Chase’s memory. Monique was a little unusual.

A startlingly large picture of Dickie’s oversized head, in full grin, stared out at her. If Julie had bet with her about him running for mayor again, she would have won. It was a campaign poster touting “Rich Byrd for Mayor.”

Good luck, she thought, changing your nickname to Rich.

Monique had seen her draw back to read the large print. “Isn’t it lovely?” she said, showing all of her huge, white teeth. With those and her perfectly coifed helmet, her stylish belted suit and high-heeled mid-length boots, she was ready to step into the role of mayor’s wife and pose for photographs. Maybe even for a portrait above the mantel.

“Did you do it?” She remembered that Monique ran Dickie’s campaign for class president, which had been much more successful than his first run for mayor. Chase thought he was still on the young side to be a mayor—most of the members of their class were about thirty-two years old—but some towns had young mayors.

“I did.” Monique beamed even brighter. “Here, it’s yours.”

Chase tried to hand it to her. “That’s okay. I don’t need one.” Monique stepped back and kept her hands at her side.

“Charity,” Dickie said, moving in close. “We’d love your support. If you could just put this in the corner of your window, we’d appreciate it so much.”

Chase thought as quickly as she could. She couldn’t endorse this guy. “I’ll have to ask my business partner.”

“We’ll wait. We can shop for some desserts, can’t we, Mona?”

No way was she going to put up his poster. “She isn’t here right now.” She threw a stern frown at Mallory, who was nearby, eavesdropping, so she wouldn’t give Chase away. “I’ll consult her later.”

Chase took the poster and retreated to the kitchen.

THREE

At the end of the day, Chase flipped the sign and everyone trooped into the kitchen to help clean up.

Chase loved this time of day. Everyone could relax and she could revel in the fact that this cute, sweet-smelling place was part hers. She never got tired of doing that. She opened the office door and let Quincy out to prowl.