I was going to have Jordy run out and pick up a couple hundred tapered candles for the event, but Willow had stopped by the inn to give me some inventory for the spa and she said she had more than enough candles for the vigil tonight. And as the day grows dim, we collectively illuminate the evening in Ember’s honor with the very candles she was set to sell in that store she opened up as a means of vengeance against my sister. It’s a sad story all the way around.
The tiny orange twinkle lights strung up over Main Street glitter like a string of citrine stars. Tons of silk maple leaves have been strung around the doorframes and awnings of all the local businesses, and autumn wreaths filled with colorful leaves dot the doorways. The lampposts have been festooned with leaves and pumpkins in preparation for the big Founders’ Day parade this Thursday. The high school and the auxiliary leagues are creating floats in every shape and size. And rumor has it, Cider Cove has procured quite a few of those enormous balloons, the kind you see at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. I have a feeling this is going to be a Thanksgiving to remember.
Our local pastor says a few kind words about Ember, and after a brief moment of silence the crowd begins to disperse, growing livelier by the second.
Jasper had to work late, but he said he would drive straight over and so I stand with Fish and Sherlock off to the side, watching as the crowd begins to mingle. Fish is warm in my arms, and I’ve got the kittens in my cat stroller. Already about three different women have asked whether I had a boy or a girl in there, so I told them the only thing I could: girls—triplets to be exact. Two of the three women looked as if they were going to pass out on my behalf.
Fish yowls, There’s Mayor Woods, Bizzy. She looks shifty to me. I sense she’s up to something. She lifts a paw, and I look in that direction.
Across the street, right next to the Lather and Light, I spot Mackenzie looking shifty as she keeps her head on swivel. And before I can think to head in her direction—and accuse her of looking to sink her teeth into another male victim—someone steps right up to her, a man no less.
“It looks as if you were right, Fish,” I whisper.
Sherlock barks. I’d head over there to see what they were saying, but I wouldn’t put it past her to kick me.
Sadly, I wouldn’t either. “I’d like to think she wouldn’t resort to a foot to the rear, but she definitely wouldn’t be showering you with bacon.”
The man in question is tall, dark hair with a heavy wool coat, and from this distance, he seems handsome enough to fit the cheating bill. I hold my breath as Mackenzie picks up his hand. It almost looks as if she’s studying it and—touching all of his fingers? Boy, I knew she was weird, but this is next level.
Fish mewls. What kind of a greeting is that, Bizzy? Is that what humans do before they get to licking?
It’s called kissing. Sherlock barks. And I’ve never seen Jasper or Bizzy shake hands that way.
“Nor will you. It’s weird.”
He pulls her into a hard embrace and lands a kiss to her cheek while she laughs at something he’s telling her.
I bet that’s Elliot, the mystery man she was looking for the other day.
I quickly pull out my phone and snap a half a dozen pictures of them.
Goodbye to you, Mackenzie Woods. I am so relived you are finally out of my brother’s life for good. As much as we were starting to get along again, I couldn’t shake that nagging feeling in the back of my mind, and now I know why.
Then just as quickly as he showed up, the mystery man stalks off, and she’s left shifting from foot to foot again as she glowers into the crowd. She’s probably placing a pox on the entire town. Figures.
Well, it’s curtains for you, Mayor Woods. And I say good riddance. I can’t wait to find a nice girl for Hux to date.
Who am I kidding? I’d be fine with a nice cobra so long as it wasn’t that viper.
The sound of music coming from a choppy speaker emanates from behind, and I turn to find a horror manifesting as it strides this way. Juni holds a boombox up on her shoulders while my mother and Georgie wheel shopping carts this way laden down with dozens of colorful quilts.
“Oh no.” I can’t help but moan.
Georgie cups her hands around her mouth. “Wonky quilts! Come and get your red-hot wonky quilts!”
Emmie tiptoes my way as if she was afraid to be seen by them. Can’t say I blame her. I plan on denying any knowledge of those women if it comes down to it.
“Bizzy, do something,” she hisses. “They look like a couple of bag ladies.”
“They are a couple of bag ladies. Bag ladies in training.”
Fish howls, Make it stop, Bizzy.
Sherlock belts out a sharp bark. Quick! Unleash the kittens! The crowd needs to be sidelined with cuteness.
“It’s too late.” I shake my head as the three of them walk right down the middle of the street like some awful parade.
Georgie eschews her hands for a bona fide bullhorn this time as she plucks one from her shopping cart. “Buy one wonky quilt, get a double pack of turkey toes for free!”
An entire group of women quickly mobs them as if turkey toes were the very incentive they were holding out for.
“Turkey toes?” Emmie looks as if she might be
