“I’m new in town, yes.”
The woman nodded, a puckered smile on her face. The big hat she was wearing was covered in fake flowers with one big sunflower in the middle. She had on a floral, button-up silk blouse, an off white skirt and the ugliest sandals SuAnn had seen in ages.
“Dear, I’m the mayor’s wife. My husband is Reginald Bankston. He also runs Seagrove Bank.”
“I guess with a name like Bankston…”
“Yes, we’ve heard that joke many times,” Henrietta said, cutting her off. This was not a woman who would appreciate SuAnn’s sense of humor.
“Can I interest you in some poundcake? We have the best anywhere around.”
Henrietta scrunched her nose. “No, thank you. I’m trying to watch my figure.”
SuAnn couldn’t help but look her up and down. She was about to pop out of her skirt, so she wasn’t sure whose figure she was watching but it certainly wasn’t her own.
“Then why are you here?”
Henrietta pulled a piece of paper out of her giant handbag and gave it to SuAnn. “Our annual Spring Fling is coming up. We’re trying to get donations from local businesses for our silent auction. It’s a good marketing opportunity.”
SuAnn looked at the paper. “Oh, that sounds nice. I’d be glad to donate.”
“We also have a pie contest, but it looks like you only make cakes?”
“Actually, no. I make all sorts of things.”
Henrietta smiled slightly. “I don’t want to brag, but I’ve won the pie contest every year for twelve consecutive years. I’d hate for you to feel bad if you don’t win.”
SuAnn chuckled. “Honey, I rarely lose anything I put my mind to.”
The tension hanging in the air was palpable as the two women stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Thankfully, the door chimed and a new customer came in.
“Well, I can see you’re busy. You’ll find all of the information there.”
SuAnn folded the paper and stuck it in her apron pocket. “Have a good day, Hen,” she said as she turned back toward the counter.
“Oh, it’s Henrietta,” she called back to SuAnn, correcting her.
SuAnn said nothing. Boy, this was going to be fun.
Chapter Two
Meg stared at the book sitting in front of her on the kitchen table. While Christian rocked Vivi to sleep, she had a few precious minutes to study before heading off to bed herself.
It wasn’t that long ago that she was at school in France, learning and soaking up culture at the same time. Now, she had a hard time making sense of the numbers on the page. Why had becoming a mother warped her ability to understand math?
“She’s finally asleep,” Christian whispered as he walked up behind her and kissed the top of her head. “How’s the studying coming along, mon amour?”
Meg loved his thick French accent, especially when he used terms of endearment. “Well, I’ve come to realize that giving birth has made me an idiot.”
“Do not say such things,” he said putting his arms around her neck and kissing her cheek. “You are so intelligent, and you know this.”
“Maybe I’m just not cut out for this. I mean, I have my poor mother taking care of my daughter, and what if I fail these classes? At the community college? I’m not even at a real university, Christian.”
He sat down next to her and took her hand. “You think too much, my love. I know you can do this. Let me help you, okay?”
Meg smiled slightly. “But you don’t teach math, sweetie.”
He chuckled. “I remember enough. Now, show me what you don’t understand.”
“Your total is twenty-two forty-nine,” Julie said as she rang up three books for one of her favorite local customers. Miss Bessie, as everyone affectionately called her, was ninety-two years young. She always came in with her long-time caregiver, Amelia, and she only came on senior discount day.
“And I did get my discount, didn’t I?” she asked, as she always did.
“Yes, ma’am. You sure did,” Julie said, as she always did.
This week, Miss Bessie was buying a cookbook, even though she didn’t cook. She was also buying a birdwatching book, even though she could barely see. Julie assumed that Amelia read the books to her. This time, she was also buying a local history book.
“Miss Bessie, I noticed you picked out a history book this week. About Harriet Tubman?”
Bessie smiled as she leaned back in her wheelchair. “Oh, yes. You know, I was told as a small child that we share a bloodline with Harriet Tubman. Always made me so proud. I swear I stood two inches taller every time Momma said it.”
“That is something to be proud of,” Julie said, putting her books into a brown paper bag. Dixie refused to get plastic bags after seeing how detrimental they were to the local environment.
“You know, they used a local river to transport slaves to freedom.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“Oh yes. The Combahee River. I can just imagine my ancestors smelling the warm scent of the sweetgrass as they hid, hoping for freedom.” She closed her eyes and smiled, her thoughts a million miles away.
“I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.”
“Miss Bessie, we’d better get going. You don’t want to miss bingo, do you?” Amelia said, putting her hands on Bessie’s shoulders.
“Oh, Lord no!” Bessie said, cackling with laughter. She leaned in and looked at Julie. “I win almost every time.”
Julie chuckled. “I bet you do. Have a good afternoon, Miss Bessie. See you next week!”
She watched Amelia roll Miss Bessie down the sidewalk and out of sight. Julie was so thankful for this town and its people. Every day, she got to talk to the most amazing individuals that she never would’ve crossed paths with back in Atlanta.
Sometimes, she thought about how different her life was now. It wasn’t that long ago that she was married to a cheater, living in a big lonely house, interacting with the horrid women at her tennis club and thinking that was a great life. Now, she was living on a tiny low country island, seeing her daughters and granddaughter daily and head over heels in love with the man of her dreams.
“Anybody need a break?”
She turned around to Dixie poking her head out of the back room. “What on Earth?” Julie said, running out from behind the counter and hugging Dixie tightly. She hadn’t seen her in months, and it felt good to wrap her into a big hug.
“Thought I’d sneak in the back way so my fans wouldn’t see me out front,” Dixie joked. Gosh, she’d missed her sense of humor. When Dixie was around, she felt safe.
Julie pulled back and looked at her. She looked good and healthy. Mostly, she looked happy. “When did you get home?”
Dixie smiled. “About an hour ago. Harry told me to take a nice nap, but I wasn’t about to go without seeing my girl!”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home today? I would’ve had a special dinner or something.”
“That’s exactly why! You’re a busy lady… and grandma… these days. No sense in fussing over me.”