Madeleine broke into laughter and said, “Claire, I honestly had no idea it was you Tabitha was talking to. I overheard the time she planned to meet you here and decided to intervene. I just couldn’t let it go.”
Claire laughed good-naturedly. “When it sounded too good to be true, I should’ve known better. She said it was a prime location, which it is by the way, but that it was coming available very soon.”
Lucy smiled and shook her head. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
She couldn’t understand Tabitha’s way of thinking and was too tired to try.
Claire bid them good evening and Lucy let her out, leaving Madeleine standing there smiling at her.
Lucy slumped a little and Madeleine patted her shoulder. “You handled that as well as anyone could’ve, Lucy. She’s been spreading her gossip all over town. I think most people think she’s just a crank but I…have a feeling she’s…oh, honey.”
Lucy sniffled and Madeleine gave her a hug. “I’m not a bad person. She makes me out to be a big evil pervert or something. Maybe I’m paranoid but I think she’s behind some of the cancellations I’ve had.”
Madeleine said, “If you treat your customers right, you’ll be able to make up the business. I wouldn’t want anyone she could influence as a customer anyway. Ignorant hag. You know what? I think she protests too much. She’s probably hiding the biggest secret of any of us. And, honey, trust me, you’re not evil. I really do miss you. All that talk wasn’t just for show.”
Lucy smiled at her former boss and noticed when Madeleine scrunched up her shoulder and then reached up to rub it. “How long has it been since you’ve had a massage?”
Madeleine squinted at her and grinned. “I planned to ask you the same question. How would you like to work out a trade so that we don’t both wind up bent old ladies?”
“Now that I can do!”
Lucy’s mood was much improved when she left that evening after trading appointment times with Madeleine. She looked forward to her massage with relish, feeling blessed that she could do the same for her friend.
She swung by the print shop in the next block to pick up the labels for Beck’s Bees Pure Wildflower Honey and Bee’s Knees Body Products. Beck had been working long hours getting all the body products mixed and the containers, tubes, bottles, and tins filled so they could label and price everything that night.
“I’m here!” she called out as she dropped her purse and keys on the table by his chair. The house was filled with the sweet scent of orange blossoms. There was no sound for a moment, and then she noticed a whirring sound. She turned, trying to pinpoint its location. Her purse had landed on his answering machine and it was rewinding.
“This is Beck…and Chloe!” Lucy heart slammed in her chest as she heard the dual greeting from Beck and his former girlfriend who kept chiming in with him. “We can’t come to the phone right now. Leave a message and one, or both of us, will get back to you.”
She bit her nail, a habit she despised, while listening to how happy he sounded. How happy Chloe sounded.
The machine played the last message left. “Hey, Beck. It’s…it’s Chloe. I have some news…I wanted to tell you.” There was a pause. “I’ll call you on your cell. Bye for now.” The tone of that message was so hesitant, pained almost. It dawned on Lucy why that might be, realizing that Chloe had called and probably heard the same message she’d just listened to. Heard for herself that he hadn’t been letting go.
A noise behind her caught her attention and she turned to find Beck standing in the back door with a box of containers. He looked torn and she went to him.
“I’m sorry, baby. My purse landed on the answering machine. I should’ve stopped it when it first started playing.” She was worried he might be angry at her but she couldn’t see a trace of it in his eyes.
He set the box on the tile counter in the kitchen and sighed. “It’s all right. It’s way past time to change that message.”
Lucy smiled as he came to her and she looked up at him. “That’s an old-school answering machine you got there, sexy.”
Beck smiled, “I know, but it’s easier for me. Why don’t you record a professional sounding message for me in that sexy, honey-sweet voice of yours?”
“Why, Mr. O’Malley, I’d be delighted.”
Cooter came snarfling into the room and grunted at her as he sat down beside her, waiting for his pats. Beck sat in his chair and pulled her into his lap, pulled the machine over and went through the process of erasing the outgoing message and setting it up to record again.