Because it occurred to me, I’d never done it thus far. Had Winnie?
“Earth to Naomi. What are you doing?”
“Looking for something that doesn’t exist apparently.” I brushed my hands together to loosen the dirt from the plant. I grimaced as it clung to my skin. I scrubbed my hands on my pants.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, pulling off her coat and boots. “The dinner crowd from the mill just wouldn’t leave. I told Orville he needs to hire at least one more waitress.”
“Two, so you can have a little more free time,” Trish suggested.
“Time to do what?” Marjorie wrinkled her nose.
Sounded like something I’d say. Which was why it seemed strange I had a reply. “Start a hobby. Read a book. Go to the movies.”
“I already do the last two.”
“I thought you always wanted to learn to knit,” Trish said.
“No, I said I admired people who could at that craft fair.” Marjorie held out her hands. “I don’t know if I could wield needles without stabbing someone at one point.” She winked.
But Trish saw the levity for what it was and moved to put her arm around her. “Was it bad again today?”
“Wait, is something wrong?” I asked.
“Not really. Just the men from the mill, and even some of the new women, can be a tad much.”
“Are they touching you? Because that’s illegal,” I huffed.
Marjorie shook her head, “It’s more how they talk to me and treat me, like I’m worse than a piece of gum stuck to a shoe.”
I winced. “That’s awful. I’m surprised Orville allows it.”
“I haven’t told him. He’d toss them out and never mind the fact he’d be ruining his business. I’m handling it.” Marjorie shrugged.
“People will be dicks. Which is when you spit in their food,” Trish replied, still hugging Marjorie.
“I can’t do that!”
“Maybe I can have the house put a hex on them,” I offered.
“Don’t make a mockery of its power.” Trish side-eyed the walls. It was rather ridiculous.
Winnie clattered down the stairs, shaking her head. “I didn’t find anything.”
“I found a hottie,” Trish teased with a wink. Of late they’d been doing more PDA, a term Winnie assured me stood for public displays of affection.
“Stop it,” Marjorie protested, and yet she didn’t move away, despite her blush.
A timer went off in the kitchen.
“What are you making?” I asked as Trish headed for the oven.
“Eggplant lasagna. Chaffle garlic toast. And a sugar-free, crustless cheesecake for dessert.”
It took me a moment before I exclaimed, “You made a low-carb supper?”
“Well, yeah.” My friend rolled her eyes. “You didn’t really think we’d be jerks and make something you couldn’t eat.”
The shame burned as I realized it never occurred to me that they would do otherwise. “Thanks,” I mumbled, taking a sip of my drink and almost spitting it out as I realized I was drinking in front of Marjorie. Since that would draw more attention, I quickly swallowed and put my glass aside.
“No problem. We should be able to eat in just a few minutes. Just waiting for Darryl to arrive.”
“Darryl’s coming?” For some reason the shock of it had me inhaling, which led to me choking.
Which was, of course, when Darryl arrived.
13
I was still choking as Winnie opened the door for Darryl. Marjorie thumped me on the back, and Trish laughed her ass off.
I was less than amused to greet him with a red face and streaming eyes. To his credit, he looked concerned.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” My voice squeaked. “Wrong tube.”
“Oh.” He gripped my hands. “I heard what happened at the store today. I stopped by, but you were out.”
Exactly how many people had come by during my short visit to the mill, and would it have killed Brigda to tell me? Probably.
“I’m fine. The store will be fine. The police are on the case.” I managed a weak smile. “Part of owning a business, I guess.” Of all people, Darryl would understand. His own gas station had recently suffered a similar fate, courtesy of my ex. It was a wonder he still talked to me.
“We should put a spell of protection on the store,” Trish suggested.
“Oooh. Traps.” Winnie rubbed her hands a little too gleefully.
Which made me think of those metal jaws in the cartoons that clamped onto people’s legs. “I’d rather not harm potential clients.”
“You’d only have it armed at night when you close.” Trish waved a hand.
“Set a trap on a timer?” I snorted.
“Can’t hurt to try,” Winnie argued.
We spent a good portion of dinner discussing various ways to protect the shop. Some