Before she can open her mouth, I continue spilling out all my business, because apparently, I’m just grateful to have run across someone nice.
“The place I’m staying at has no utilities. Went to the post office, but they already closed up for the day. The sheriff showed up?—”
“The sheriff?” the woman asks, eyes lighting up.
“Don’t get too excited,” I grumble. “He was rude. Anyway, no one has been of any help. I just need to book a room and then I’ll be out of your way.”
The woman’s eyes narrow and she studies me quietly for a few seconds too long for my liking. “Sit tight. I’ll grab you some tea.”
I open my mouth to tell her I’d prefer coffee, but she disappears. Deflating, I drop down onto the shockingly comfortable sofa and wait for her to return. Moments later, she carries out a dainty silver tray with a porcelain, painted teapot, two miniature teacups, a small carafe of cream, packets of sweetener, and a couple of spoons.
So, we’re having a tea party.
I’m in a hurry and this lady just dropped us into turtle mode.
Rather than let my inner impatient city girl out, I thank the woman for the tea and fix mine up so it’s decent enough to drink. When I taste the hot liquid, I’m pleased that it’s something cinnamon-flavored with a hint of orange and the tea is strong.
“So, you met my son?”
Is she a mind reader or does the small-town gossip move that fast?
I blink at her, nearly choking on my coffee. “Elias Cove is your son? Did he tell you about me or something? He was awful to me?—”
“No, dear girl,” the woman says with a chuckle. “The sheriff. I’m Mae Calder. Sheriff Monroe Calder is my oldest boy. Looks just like his daddy did.”
Now I feel like a total idiot.
I take her frail outstretched hand and shake it. It’s firm and strong and not what I expected from the soft woman with a bird on her shoulder who enjoys tea parties with newcomers.
“Sorry,” I murmur before chugging the hot tea. “It’s just been a day. I’m trying to get my grandma’s house dealt with and haven’t exactly had success.”
“I miss Goldie too.”
I’m stunned at the sorcery of this woman who apparently seems to know everything. Of course she knew Grandma. Everyone did.
“How did you know I was her granddaughter?”
“For one, you look just like she did at that age. Two, you mentioned Elias Cove. Not difficult to put together.” Mae winks at me and gives my knee a small pat. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I, uh, the place isn’t fit for me to stay,” I explain, stumbling over my words. “I thought I’d just stay here a few days until I can get it sorted over there.”
Mae nods, a sympathetic smile on her face. “I’d love that, honey.”
Oh, thank God.
“But,” she continues, “we’re all booked out for the entire summer.”
The tea in my gut sours. “What? Surely you have something. Please.”
“I really am sorry.”
“What about that other hotel?” I ask, voice turning shrill. “The new one? Would they have any rooms?”
“People book out months and sometimes years in advance for BudgieFest,” Mae says with a frown. “You could try, but I’m afraid you’ll be turned down there, too. Now, I know you said Elias was awful to you, but I’m sure that was just a misunderstanding. Perhaps if you talk to him?—”
Her words are cut off by my best friend FaceTiming me. I go to decline the call and accidentally answer it instead.
“Oh. My. God,” Kayla says, red lips parted in shock. “Are you inside a dollhouse right now?”
