“Alyssa. Ava,” Nan Jenkins says, moving toward the front of the pack, face puffy and mascara stained. “It’s so nice to see you two out and about.”
This is just her way of digging in to see how I respond.
I know her games, and I refuse to play them.
My head tilts to the side, one eyebrow lifted as I take her in.
She’s wearing a pair of denim overalls with a white-collared shirt underneath. Today, her red hat is understated—a ball cap with large white peonies across the brim.
“Is something wrong, Mrs. Jenkins?”
She sniffles, standing up straight. “It’s awful. Truly awful.”
I’m about to ask her what’s awful, but she barrels ahead with a barrage of questions.
“How’s Nina? Nick West?” Her whole demeanor shifts from melancholy to meddling in a matter of seconds.
“Fine,” I say, looking around to her friends, who are all still rather subdued for the Red Hats.
“Just fine?” she asks, leaning forward as though I’ll impart some secret to her.
“Holy moly,” Ava hisses from across the table. “Get the hint, lady.”
Mrs. Jenkins turns to her, and I smother a laugh.
“What was that, dear?”
Ava makes a point of looking down at her phone, trying to cover up her outburst.
“Sorry, I spoke out loud.” She lifts her phone into the air. “My professor is sending emails during the holiday, and nobody is responding.”
She shrugs and Mrs. Jenkins huffs, turning back to me.
“You know, you missed out on helping with the Christmas carnival.”
Nope…didn’t miss out on a thing.
They ask for help every year, but really, they just want bodies to do the work as they bark out orders. They aren’t interested in ideas or changing things up.
I pass.
“You could always help us scout the area for the missing girl,” she says, so nonchalantly I almost miss the remark.
“A missing girl?” She puckers her lips, nodding her head so aggressively that flowers detach from her hat, falling to the floor at her feet. She doesn’t so much as flinch.
“We could use your help.” I go to speak, but she raises her voice, pressing forward. “It’s Esther Long’s granddaughter after all.”
I’m not familiar with Esther Long, but it’s still sad to hear.
“I really wish I could help, but Ava leaves today.”
She lifts her hand. “Say no more. Your time with her is valuable. It goes so fast.”
I nod and give her a polite smile, hoping she’ll leave it there.
“Maybe you can help with the Fourth of July festival?”
No such luck.
