Checked out

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

“Gay as a goose he was, but well hidden. Usually I pick right up on these things, and I never suspected a thing until I spotted that key chain.” Karen reached around a large pot of rosemary and plucked out a small pineapple sage plant toward the back. “Have you ever tried this?” she asked, breathing in the scent of the spicy plant. “I love to use it with chicken.”
“I haven’t” Tessa pinched off a small leaf and chewed on it. “It’s wonderful, pick one out for me too.”
Karen placed a second plant in Tessa’s handcart. They were spending a Sunday afternoon herb shopping at O’Toole’s in Madison. “Remind me to get a bag of their garden mixture, I need to repot that tarragon you gave me last fall,” she said, pushing open the door to the greenhouse.
“I’m going to go ahead and pay for mine” Tessa called after her, “I have enough work to do in my yard without adding more new plants.”
She pulled her cart across the gravel, trying not to look around at any more things she might try to buy. Too late, she saw a gorgeous wind chime made up of painted tin butterflies. She parked her cart to the side of the stairs and climbed up onto the porch to take a closer look at it. The wooden porch was crammed with a variety of garden themed crafts from local artists. Inside the converted old home were candles, oils, and soaps created from organic herbs grown on the farm, plus several shelves of preserves, sauces, and honey harvested from a local apiary.
“Karen, you should sell some of your pots here” Tessa showed her a small glazed bulb pot decorated with a beautiful, hand rendered amaryllis, “remember those gorgeous ones you gave us last Christmas? Or how about some of the oil lamps you made for the Silent Auction, everyone went crazy over those. I thought Sid William’s wife and Deena were going to take it to the parking lot over them. I know she probably was the one that keyed Deena’s car afterward.”
“I might talk to Betty about it” Karen looked over the pottery display, “these little bulb pots are adorable, I could do a few of them over a weekend.”
A tall red haired woman behind the jewelry display listened with interest. She stepped out from behind the counter and approached the two women. “You’re a potter?” she asked with interest, “we’ve been wanting someone to take over Jake’s classes after the New Year.”
“I was so sorry to hear he had passed” Tessa said sympathetically, “I saw it in the newsletter you send out. I had no idea he was even ill.”
“It did happen quickly. They diagnosed him in February, and he was gone by April. I came up from Melbourne to help Mom with the farm for a few months.” The woman replied and pushed back a lock of hair that was hanging in her eyes. “I’m Sara, by the way, Betty and Jake’s youngest daughter. Mom’s in Jacksonville with my brother and his wife this weekend, and she pressed me into working.”
“Nice to meet you in person! I’ve seen your picture in the newsletter, you design jewelry, don’t you?” Tessa looked in the display case at some of the bracelets offered. “These are gorgeous, are they yours?”
“I do. I have a studio in Melbourne, but I can work anywhere. I wanted to stay up here for a while until Mom seemed okay on her own.” She walked behind the counter again and reached in to pull out a few of the bracelets for Tessa to look at. “Have you ever taught a pottery class?” she addressed Karen.
“That’s funny, but it’s the second time this weekend someone has suggested that I teach classes” Karen answered. “I’m taking a raku workshop down at the Stephen Foster for the next few Saturdays, and the instructor saw some of my work and suggested it.”
“Are you talking about Arthur Wetherington? We’re trying to get him to do some classes too, but his schedule is packed for the next year. I just love him; he came and had dinner with Mom and I the first weekend he was back. He and Dad grew up together; I think they are cousins somewhere down the line. He was completely torn up when Dad died. But there really wasn’t time to prepare anyone, it happened so suddenly.” She paused and changed the subject. “Aren’t his classes wonderful? We used to visit him sometimes whenever my parents went out to California. His home was amazing. He would always let us make a complete mess in his studio with leftover clay and paints he kept around for us. I’m so glad he’s moved back here.” The office phone rang and Sarah excused herself for a moment.
Tessa looked at Karen. “So he’s permanently moved back here. He must be taking care of Ms. Faye. She doesn’t seem ill, but I imagine she could hide it pretty well if she wanted to. She may have had falls we don’t know about, or anything. As big as that house is, she could lay there for days without anyone knowing.”
Sara joined them again. “You think about it, okay? We just need someone to lead a really basic beginner’s class, some clay working technique, firing, and stuff like that. You could do some wheel demonstration, but most of the class won’t be up for that in the beginner class. We usually start classes the first week after the New Year and they go until the beginning of March. We pay the instructor twenty-five a class, which isn’t much I know, but it will take care of gas. Just let me or Mom know, and we’ll start advertising it in the next newsletter. Plus, as an instructor we could probably work you a little discount on garden purchases” she added after seeing Karen’s overfull cart parked beside Tessa’s.

Marion tried to sleep late on Sunday mornings, but rarely made it past eight o’clock. A lifetime insomniac, she seemed to do better on less sleep than most. Teeter had called her last night, drunk and loud as usual, and even though she would have loved the company of a man she did not feel like being bothered with him. She told him she was going to bed early so that she could make the first church service in the morning and he had the temerity to laugh at her before hanging up. He must have either forgotten what she said, or figured he could talk her into letting him come over anyway. He kept ringing her phone and trying to text her until she reached over and turned the phone off at one o’clock. Stupid bastard, she thought as she went back to her book, I hope he doesn’t try to just come over and think I’ll let him in. She worried while she tried to concentrate on her book. What if he showed up with that huge white Explorer he just bought? Everyone in town would recognize it parked out in front of her house. She didn’t even have a garage she could hide him in. He sounded completely wasted and judging by the noise in the background must have been at Follies, which was not too far from her house. She got up and walked into her kitchen without turning on the light. Standing by the sink, she checked the street to make sure his Explorer wasn’t lurching it’s way toward her house. She went to the living room and turned off her porch light, so that maybe if he did show up he might have the sense to think she was really asleep. Just to be safe, she ran back to her room and turned off her bedside lamp as well, and then lay there in the dark listening for cars. She must have fallen asleep finally, because she woke up with a numb left arm from having it curled under her pillow and found she still had her glasses on. Her book had fallen off the bed onto the floor, losing her place. She shook out her arm, and checked her phone to see if he had kept calling. The last call was at two thirty, she would have to remember to clear her phone messages and numbers out later. She got up and went to the kitchen to start some tea. She reached for the electric kettle, and turned the water on to fill it when she suddenly jumped back splashing her feet with ice water. Dammit, there was another mouse dropping on the counter, which meant there were lots more everywhere else. She turned off the water and grabbed a handful of paper towels. Picking up the rice sized dropping like it was radioactive and dropping it into the garbage can, Marian shuddered. God she hated mice. What had made them begin to invade her home now? She had lived here a little over a year and never seen even the smallest trace of a bug or rodent until this fall. She sprayed a huge amount of bleach on the counter and wiped it with another fresh handful of paper towels. She then sprayed the entire counter down with Lysol just to make sure there were no errant mouse germs or lurking Black Plague ready to take out the town beginning at her house. She got out her phone book and called the first pest control company listed. So what it was Sunday? That’s what answering services were for. She left a very detailed message on their machine, and stressed that she would be at home the next morning for them to return her call as soon as possible. Hanging up, she decided to clean out all the cabinets with bleach and Lysol. That would give her something to do for a few hours until she could call her Caroline up at Emory. She knew her daughter could sleep easily until noon like most teens, so as much as she wanted to talk to her about her new school, she decided to let her have a few more hours. She grabbed her broom out of the laundry room and began sweeping the kitchen floor looking for more plague infested droppings.
She was head first in a cabinet when the phone rang. She backed out without smashing her head, and felt around on the countertop for it. The caller ID listed “Action Alarm” and sighing she answered it. The alarm company representative informed her that the alarm was going off on the west side of the building and that they had called the police. Marian would need to go down to the library and deactivate the alarm. Shit! She hung up and ran to go throw some sweat pants on. She saw herself in the mirror heading out the door, she probably should have thrown a bra on too, but she didn’t have time. The officers were probably already there and would be waiting to be let in the building to check for intruders. It was always a false alarm. More than likely it was nothing, a bird flying too close to the building could set off the inside alarm. The women took turns monthly to be on call for the alarm company, so it figures it would go off when it was Marion’s time. She checked her face in the visor mirror as she headed toward the library and reached under her glasses to wipe away an eye booger. Couldn’t this have happened later, damn this morning was turning out to be a total bitch! Not enough sleep, mice droppings, and now she had to go dicker around with a stupid police report about their over sensitive alarm system. She parked by the book drop, and grabbed a piece of gum out of her purse. She didn’t even have time to brush her teeth this morning; she would just have to make sure she didn’t stand too close to whoever they sent to investigate.