No Attachments - By Tiffany King Page 0,17

ribbing got too personal, she'd remind the patrons of any past deeds they weren't too proud of. It seemed like she had dirt on everyone. It was a benefit of being that old and living here as long as she had. She'd seen a lot of people grow from child to adult in this town, and witnessed many things people would now like to forget.

I was still chuckling after she reminded busybody Chrissy Dean about the time she got caught with Michael Ridge's hand up her skirt during the homecoming dance back in ninety-nine. Chrissy scurried off, mumbling about people having the memory of an elephant.

"Fran, how do you know all this crap?" I asked, locking the door and flipping the "closed" sign over.

"Darling, I realized years ago that in a town this size you need to keep track of things. When a scandal arises, everyone suddenly forgets their own past sins. After seeing a couple of the newer residents run off by gossip years ago, I decided to make it my job to remind everyone that no one is perfect. Could you imagine how boring it would be if we were?" she asked, shuddering as she flipped off the light switch, plunging the store into semi-darkness.

"At your age, shouldn't you be walking the straight and narrow?" I asked, heading out the back door with her. The question was meant to tease, but there was a layer of curiosity beneath it. What happened to us after we died was a nagging question in my head. Even though I knew some would say my curiosity was morbid.

"Honey, it's too late for me. I figure, either god will give me a free pass for my charming personality, or he'll give me the boot. It's too late to be fixin' things now."

"Heaven would be lucky to have you," I said loyally, walking down the cobblestone path with her.

"You know, honey, you don't need to walk me home," she reminded me, the same way she did every night. "My house is less than two hundred yards from the store, not two miles," she added.

"I like walking you home, so there," I told her, not mentioning the fact that it made me feel better to keep an eye on her while she navigated the uneven path in the dark. I knew it would piss her off if I admitted I was afraid she'd trip or something. I knew how much her independence meant to her.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" she asked, opening her front door that was never locked.

"Not tonight. I think I'm going to hit the sack early."

"Any big plans tomorrow?"

"Well, since it's Sunday, and we're closed, I'm going to cross another item off my list. I need to kick it into high gear if I'm going to finish all the items," I said with a slight edge of panic in my voice.

"You'll do it. Which one are you doing?" she asked, although I could tell she already knew.

"The fear one," I answered, making busywork of searching for my car keys in my purse.

She clucked her tongue disapprovingly. It was the one item on my list she didn't approve of. She could handle the one-night stand or her suggestion of an affair, but conquering my fear of heights was a different story.

"You know I need to do it," I reminded her.

"There's plenty of ways to conquer that fear without jumping off some damn bridge. I'm sure your twins are all in," she retorted, referring to Tressa and Brittni.

"Brittni is. Tressa is deathly afraid of heights and claims she has no desire to ever conquer her fear."

"She's a smart girl."

"You didn't think that when she pranked your least favorite customer last week," I threw out, finally finding my keys.

"Well, that's because sometimes that Tressa acts like she's still in high school. Besides, anyone with a brain knows it's not the best idea to wrap a store toilet bowl with Saran Wrap. Most people who use our bathroom really got to go, and having their pee puddled in their shoes is not good. I could not for the life of me figure out why there were wet footprints trailing from the bathroom door."

"It was gross," I laughed. "But you have to admit it was pretty funny how the minister's wife, Shelly, scurried out of the store thinking she had missed the toilet."

"That was the only highlight of the whole incident," Fran replied, chuckling along with me. "She's always judging others whenever they look anything