Buzz Off - By Hannah Reed Page 0,63

He had gone among his honeybees with gentle bare hands and slow movements. I could handle that, too. Besides, didn’t my bees know me by now?

After pulling a bucket of bee syrup from the bed of my truck, I opened one of the hives and poured some into a feeder. As I said, bees are hungry at this time of year when the flowers are still blooming but pollen is getting scarce. To preserve their stores of honey until they really need them the most, Manny always supplemented their diet with sugar syrup. I intended to follow his lead.

The tricky part when dealing with so many honeybees is making sure they aren’t underneath your fingers.

“Ouch!” I quickly scraped off a stinger embedded in my thumb, closed up the top of the hive, and moved on to the next one, repeating the process over again.

“Ouch, jeez, that one really hurt.” This time the target was my neck.

Did I mention that bee stings emit an odor that riles up the other bees? Once stung, my only recourse was to cover up any exposed body parts. That is, if I had anything to cover up with. Otherwise, they’ll keep it up.

In my semi-panic, I stepped sideways, forgetting about the nails. Flip flops are not the proper foot gear for walking on nails.

By the time I returned to The Wild Clover, my neck was red and throbbing, I had a pronounced limp, and I’d ruined one of my favorite pairs of flip flops.

“What happened to you?” Carrie Ann asked.

“Nothing. Never mind.”

Before I could gimp to my storage room office, Holly came into the market.

“Your sister is up to something,” Carrie Ann said to Holly, talking over my head as though I didn’t exist. “She’s been overly nice to me since I arrived this morning, then she informed me of errands but wouldn’t share what they were, and finally she came back a few minutes ago all banged up.”

“I wouldn’t ask any questions if I were you,” Holly replied. “You’re better off not knowing.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Carrie Ann said.

“Story has a problem with physical coordination,” Holly continued.

“Two left feet?” Carrie Ann chuckled. “Now that you mention it, I’ve noticed that, too.”

“Since as far back as I can remember,” Holly added.

“How’s business been?” I asked, diverting them before they could start in on examples of my klutziness. I also was wondering if I should go to the emergency room with my bloody feet. When did I get my last tetanus shot?

“Still slow,” Carrie Ann said. “A few tourists came through town, antiquing in the area. Lori Spandle stopped by and pumped me for information about your bees. I didn’t tell her a thing, not that I actually know anything to tell her. Stu came for his paper. You know, the usual.”

“Holly,” I said, “can you handle the store while I have a word with Carrie Ann?”

“Sure.”

“You’re firing me, aren’t you? I can hear it in your voice.” My cousin stuck her fingers in her ears and started making some la-la-la noise with her tongue.

I grabbed her arm and pulled her into the back, trying to walk gently. I shut the door.

“Am I at least getting severance pay?” Carrie Ann leaned against a shelf, looking defeated. “Unemployment would be good, if a severance package is too much to ask.”

What nerve. The woman, until recently, had been so part-time I wasn’t positive she actually worked for me. Now she wanted a going-away package?

“I’m not firing you,” I said.

“You aren’t?”

“Nope.”

“Then why all the drama about talking to me in private? Oh, I get it, you don’t want your sister to hear what we are talking about. Is it about her?”

I plopped into my office chair and gestured for my cousin to take a seat in a metal chair next to me. I wondered how to begin.

The direct route seemed best. “I need the truth from you and nothing but the truth.”

“I can do that.”

“Good. So . . . I’ve been getting weird vibes.”

“You and me both. That’s what comes from talking to the universe.”

“Huh?”

“Every day I talk to the universe. It’s easy. You go outside, face up to the sky, and tell God or the universe or whatever energy source you believe in what you need or want. It really works, but sometimes you get weird vibes. Is that what you mean?”

I had to admit that Carrie Ann was much more interesting sober than she was in a drunken state. Glimmers of the young woman I’d chummed with