Chime and Punishment Page 3

  I realized that Jason was waiting for me to continue the conversation. He usually was. He was a pleasant person and quite gregarious, but never overshared about himself. I always assumed if someone wanted me to know something they’d tell me in due course. Jason tested that assumption, but I held firm.

  “Are you coming to the Signing Ceremony today?” I asked.

  “I’m going to try,” he said. “As soon as business calms down I’ll put a sign up and run over. Everyone who’s anyone is going to be there.”

  “All the requisite speech-makers will be there,” I said. “It’s a warm-up for the Winding Ceremony at the end of the month. Orchard comes out to support its own. And we love a reason for a party.”

  “It starts at noon?”

  “The speeches start at noon, then we’ll have folks signing and eating cookies until around two. Then a cleanup, and the cocktail party at five out on the portico. We need to set up the hall right afterward. There was a glee club concert that had to be rescheduled—”

  “The director got sick,” Jason said. “I volunteer with them. It was a nightmare, having to tell folks that we were canceling at the last minute.” He shuddered at the memory.

  “Yes, well, Jimmy Murphy asked if they could use the Town Hall tonight. We needed to move things around a bit and create a gap in the afternoon so we could help turn the space into a concert hall.”

  “I know the glee club is really grateful,” he said. “There’s a call out for folks to come by around four and help set up.”

  “That’s good. We’ll have a lot of tables that need to be moved. And the refreshments will need to be cleaned up, of course.”

  “What’s on the menu?”

  “I’m not on that committee,” I said. “That’s up to greater talents than I. Speaking of which, I should stop by the Sleeping Latte. See you this afternoon?”

  “I’ll try my best,” Jason said, giving nothing away.

  • • •

  Coming into the Sleeping Latte always made me smile. The building itself had always been an aberration in our sleepy New England town. Neon pink, blue, and lots of chrome in a sea of white clapboard, stone, and brick. The warm diner décor was hipster cozy, working with the most recent renovation that had made it look like a ’50s hunting lodge. Moira had bought it at a bargain price when the previous owner had realized high-end coffee with pretentious food didn’t work in the Berkshires, especially in the off-season. Moira still served the high-end coffee, but added regular coffee and a variety of teas. She recently started serving Italian sodas and shrubs—a specialty drink made with her father’s homemade syrup concoctions. Shrubs were my new favorite discovery. Vinegar, fruit, sugar, herb mixes, made into syrup and mixed with seltzer water. I was always happy to be one of Pat Reed’s tasters, and was delighted to give him a shelf in my refrigerator for his experiments. Who knew his latest seasonal concoction—cider vinegar, rosemary, and blueberry—would be so delicious?

  My favorite part of the Sleeping Latte is the smells. Nancy Reed had been part of the success of the shop from the beginning, and her breakfast sandwiches were to die for. When Nancy got a seat on the Board of Selectmen, however, her time became limited. Then Jack Clark was born, and Mac asked Nancy to help run the Corner Market, and she had even less time. Moira was forced to hire someone else to help in the Sleeping Latte kitchen.

  I took a deep inhale. Yum. The gates of heaven surely smelled like this. Cinnamon, caramelized sugar, tomato sauce, bread—the mixture shouldn’t be so intoxicating. I caught a glimpse of the kitchen magician herself, Frederica “Freddie” Hamilton, as she came through the kitchen door with a tray of goodies to replenish supplies. She looked as harried as ever, with her hair held up and back with a bandanna, her face brushed with flour marks, and her apron covered with smears of food. She caught my eye and went to wave. Unfortunately, one of the scones she was holding tipped off of her suddenly unbalanced tray and landed in front of the counter. She had the good grace to look embarrassed and went back to the task at hand.

  Moira Reed appeared from behind the curtain and picked up the errant scone. She turned and looked at me, shrugging her shoulders. “She’s a flipping disaster,” she said, leaning in and whispering in my ear.

  “Maybe. But she’s a genius baker,” I said, eyeing the pastry display. “How long was that scone on the ground? Do you think it’s safe to eat?”

  “You’re not eating food off the ground,” Moira said. “Let me get you a fresh one. And a cup of coffee?”

  “I really shouldn’t,” I said, patting the slight roll at the bottom of my stomach. Freddie’s baked goods were taking their toll.

  “But you will. Go sit by the window. I’ll be right over. I could use a break.”

  I walked over to the table by the window and put my bag on one of the chairs. I texted Nadia that I was going to be a little while longer. Take your time, she texted back. I could sense her relief in her text. While Moira was getting the coffee, I noticed that a few of the tables hadn’t been bused. This time of year was a tough one for businesses that depended on student help. The gap between the end of the school year and the beginning of summer term meant no student workers. I walked over and grabbed the tub that had been left on top of the wastebasket, inviting people to bus their own tables. Would that some people actually got the hint.

  I gathered dishes and didn’t stop until the tub was filled. I walked it back to the kitchen.

  “What are you doing?” Freddie asked, squinting at me through a cloud of flour.

  “A few of the tables needed to be cleared, so I took care of it,” I said. I walked over to the dishwasher and opened it. Half-full. I couldn’t tell if it was dirty or clean, but decided that the dishes on hand would make it full and soon enough they’d all be clean.

  “Thanks, Ruth. You’re a savior. I’m having trouble keeping up with it all this morning.”

  “Has it been busy?”

  “Busy? That’s one way to put it. I’m trying to get food ready for the party this afternoon and also keep the front of the shop in stock, plus special orders. I keep thinking I’m getting ahead, but then someone else comes in and buys a bag of scones or a dozen muffins, and I’m behind again.”

  “Your baked goods are famous,” I said. I wasn’t exaggerating. Freddie had become an Internet sensation when Nadia had uploaded a dozen short videos of her, calling them simply “Freddie Bakes.” Bake she did. With her short, dark curly hair, brown eyes, carved cheekbones, and long legs, Freddie could have been a model. She seemed quite unaware of how stunning she was and did little to show her looks off, preferring to wear overalls, tank tops, and high-top sneakers instead of catwalk fashions and stiletto heels.

  “Well, I don’t really mind being busy,” Freddie said, wiping her brow with the back of her hand and leaving yet another streak of flour on her face. “I can’t keep up with today, is all. Thanks for helping out.”

  “My pleasure. I’m going to run the dishwasher through. Make sure to unload it when it’s done. They probably need more cups out front.”

  I looked over and noticed Freddie back at her mixer, adding more ingredients to the large bowl.

  “Freddie, did you hear me?”

  “What? Oh, sorry, no, I wasn’t listening. Trying to get these cookies in the fridge—they need to chill for an hour. I want to get them ready for this afternoon.”

  I sighed and wiped my hands on the dish towel by the sink. I grabbed the empty dish tubs. “The dishes will be done soon. I’ll tell the people out front.” I walked back out to the front of the store.

  “Tuck, cups are in the dishwasher. Should be done soon,” I said.

  “Thanks, Ms. Clagan. We’re running low,” Tuck Powers said. He didn’t look me in the eye, but kept cleaning the milk frothing machine. I sighed and didn’t bother to try and chat. Tuck and Nadia had broken up a few weeks ago, and I knew Tuck blamed me
. I guess I was partially at fault, since I never thought Tuck was good enough for Nadia, and the goings-on around New Year’s proved that. While I didn’t encourage Nadia, I didn’t discourage her either. But I never wished Tuck ill. Hopefully he’d realize that soon.

  • • •

  “Where have you been?” Moira said, hitting a button on her phone and slipping it into the pocket of her apron. “Not busing tables again? How many times do I have to tell you, you don’t work here?”

  “Listen, you people keep feeding me for free. I need to earn my keep somehow.”

  “Well, today I’m not going to stop you,” she said, following me to an open table, carrying two coffees and two scones. “Tuck and Freddie are the entire staff right now.”

  “What happened to, what was her name, Edith?” I said, peeking into the bag.

  “Edith called in. Said she was sick. Sick of being inside on a beautiful day, more like it. At least Tuck is here. He is like two people out front.”

  “I’m glad he is working out,” I said. “You were good to give him a job after everything that happened.”

  Moira shrugged her shoulders and added a spoonful of sugar to her coffee. “We all need to get a second chance at some point. He’s a good kid, deserves a break.”

  “Kid? You realize he’s only a few years younger than we are?”

  “A few years that feel like a hundred. He makes me feel ancient. He calls me Ms. Reed.”

  “Calls me Ms. Clagan. Anyway, I’m glad he’s here.” I took a sip of my coffee and closed my eyes. I love a good cup of coffee, and this was one of the best. After a beat I opened my eyes again. Moira had turned her phone over and was checking it for messages. “How’s Freddie working out?” I asked.

  Moira sighed, gently tapping her finger on the table. “I still curse Mum every day for making me hire her,” she said. She took a bite of the scone on her plate and chewed it slowly, taking a sip of coffee to wash it down. “Then I eat her food and thank the angels of baking for bringing her here so she can use her skills in the kitchen.”

  “Well, with Nancy being so busy around town, you need her in the kitchen, right?”

  “I do, for sure. But it would be nice if she could multitask. Sometimes it’s hard to realize she is Fred Hamilton’s daughter. That man is the king of keeping a million projects going at once.”

  “He is indeed,” I said. “We’re lucky to have him working on the clock tower.”

  “He’s lucky you gave him a job after Kim tried to have him blackballed.” Kim Gray, the town manager, had the power to fire people from town contracts. Whereas her power would have gone unchecked a few months ago when she ended the Hamilton family contract, these days there was a strong contingent in town who took every opportunity to question that power publicly. Inadvertently I’d joined in with those ranks.

  “Well, your parents gave him a good reference. Besides, he’d worked with my grandfather over the years, helping to do winding jobs when they needed help.”

  “Winding jobs. I’m glad he can help you with those. The day you had me help was enough for me. My shoulders still hurt. I can’t believe people do that every single week.”

  “It isn’t that bad,” I said. I was lying. Pulleys and machinery offset some of the work, but the tension was still high. Hundreds of revolutions a week. It was hard work, but I loved it. She cocked an eyebrow at me over her coffee cup.

  “We’ll get you in winding shape soon enough.” I laughed, taking a big bite of my scone.

  “Who knew your job was so physically exhausting? I know it was a mental exercise, especially after that talk you gave last month at the library.”

  “I still think it was too much detail,” I said.

  “I don’t. Harriet says they’ve had a run on all the books you talked about ever since. I think that’s partly why today is so popular. Folks want to see the inner workings all laid out before you put them together.”

  “I can’t believe Nadia is willing to wear a camera on her head for the next six weeks so she can get footage for a mini documentary,” I said. Her first idea was to have me wear it, but between the curls and the other devices I’d be wearing on my head at any given time as I worked, we decided that wasn’t a good idea. Nadia volunteered herself and insisted it was going to be video gold. Gone was the discontented twenty-year-old I’d met six months ago. Now she was one of the most valued parts of the Cog & Sprocket.

  Moira and I both heard a light tap on the window beside us and saw Jeff Paisley give us both a wave, a wink, and a smile that crinkled the normally smooth dark skin around his eyes and mouth. Well, Moira got the wink. Orchard’s chief of police is a job that, on paper, shouldn’t be particularly taxing. But that was on paper. The last few months he’d seen more action than some small-town police chiefs see in their entire careers.

  “How’s that going?” I said to Moira.

  “What?”

  “Don’t even try. You and Jeff. Remember, we promised we’d use each other as sounding boards.”

  “Well, then, be prepared, because I’m going to ask you about Ben. How are Jeff and I doing? Well, to say he is the kindest guy I’ve ever dated would be an understatement. He’s incredibly thoughtful. And he’s dead sexy.”

  “Sounds like it is going well, then.”

  “Yup. So, of course, I’m doing what I can to screw it up. Normally, I would have had a torrid affair and broken up by now. Jeff wants to take it slow, and I’m trying.”

  “Is his mother still planning on visiting?”

  “She’s here. Got here yesterday afternoon. I had dinner over there last night.”

  “What’s she like?”

  “She seems really nice, but very protective of her son. I got the distinct impression that if I hurt him, she’ll take me out.”

  I laughed. My own mother was distant, at best, so I envied that fierce maternal love. But Moira’s mother, Nancy, treated me like her own daughter, so I was getting used to the feeling of being loved.

  As if she were reading my mind, Moira told me that her mother had picked up Jeff’s mother this morning. “They’re spending the day together,” she said.

  “Yikes.”

  “Yikes indeed. Mum’s bringing her to the ceremony.” Moira paused. “I hope Mum and Kim don’t have a fistfight in the middle of the ceremony. Don’t laugh. They’ve been going at it lately. I suspect my mother getting on the Board of Selectmen was the worst thing that happened to Kim in a long, long time.”

  “Nancy and Jimmy Murphy are quite the team.”

  “They are. He’s got the political skills. Mum is trying to hone his killer instincts, so they can go after Kim and get her out once and for all.”

  “Nancy’s been working on that for weeks.”

  “I know. She’s stopped talking about it at home, but I know she’s got something up her sleeve. All right, enough about all of that. How’s Ben?”

  I sighed and told Moira about Ben’s trip and my suspicion that he went to see his ex-wife.

  “What happened with them, anyway?” Moira asked.

  “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about our exes,” I said, looking out the window at the passing cars.

  “Still?”

  “I know, I know. It’s just that, the Ruth who married Eric Evan? I don’t even know her anymore. I don’t think Ben would have dated her. I’m so relieved that Ben is nothing like Eric, don’t get me wrong, but Eric took the lead when we first met, and I let him. Ben doesn’t take the lead, and I don’t want to rock the boat.”

  “Ruthie, you have to talk to him.”

  “I do. My challenge is that he may say that he’d go back to his ex if he had the chance. And that might break my heart.” I took a deep breath.

  Moira reached over and grabbed my hand. “Hey, he’s crazy about you. Everyone can see that. But you’ve got to talk to him
if this is worrying you. You know that, right?”

  “I know. It’s only that things are going so well. I’m dating the nicest, best-looking guy in Orchard—”

  “Hey there—”

  “Fine. One of the best-looking guys in Orchard. My life is going really well with my work. I feel like I’m a part of this town. I don’t want anything to screw this up, you know?”

  “I do know, but you still need to talk to him.”

  “I will,” I said, forcing a smile. “After today is over, I will.”

  chapter 4

  A new wave of customers came in, and Moira had to go back to work.

  “Want me to stay and help out?” I asked, stacking my empty plate on top of hers.

  “No, I want you to go back to your shop and make sure you’re ready for this afternoon. I know you have a million things to do.”

  “I don’t, not really. Between Pat and Nadia, things are in good shape. But you’re right, I should go back and check in. See you later?”

  “Try and keep me away,” Moira said, giving me a quick hug.

  • • •

  I walked out of the Sleeping Latte, considering continuing my procrastination tour by going over to the Corner Market. I held back. I might need something to do a little later. As I turned toward the shop, I noticed a Mini Cooper pulling up beside me. My heart stopped for a moment, but then I exhaled. Eric’s car was a different color. I forced myself to relax. I’d gotten a letter from him last week. A letter, not an e-mail or a note. Heavy-duty stationery, his initials in the upper left-hand corner, complete with his return address. I hadn’t opened it yet and was still wrestling with the why of that. Our divorce was final, and I hadn’t seen him in months. I really didn’t want to. Did I?

  Nancy Reed spilled out of the passenger side of the Mini, calling my name.