Page 16 of The Scent of Happiness

Celebrity after celebrity had walked the red carpet, and when the microphones were shoved into their faces, they’d rattle off names of designers. Who made their dresses? Who made their shoes? Not one of them ever mentioned their perfumes. Wasn’t that important? Without that essential piece, Brooke had no way of knowing if they were dressed well or not.

Emma scratched behind her ear. “The prettier the package, the more appealing it is to all our senses. You ever see restaurant menus with pictures on them? Perfume ads in magazines?”

“Those are dumb.”

“Those are effective. And on some level, you know it’s true.” Emma pointed to the display she’d made. “Otherwise you wouldn’t invest in such cute packaging.”

“The packaging is supposed to be the extra thing,” Brooke said. “You don’t take the wrapper into the tub with you.”

“Anyway, I’m coming over tomorrow, right?” Emma asked. “I’ll help you with some website stuff while I’m there.”

Brooke reflexively reached for her phone, where the screen was filled with alarms, reminders, and tracking apps. Her natural instinct was to work on five things at once, but she was getting better at managing her time. She needed to slow down and do fewer tasks to completion before starting new ones. “I should make sure my legal troubles are behind me before I jump into something new.”

“But you’re solving that,” Emma said. “You told me you talked to that hot lawyer and—”

“I never said Theo was hot!” It came out too quickly and too loud.

Abby looked up from a pile of mittens. Jada stopped arranging earrings. Sharleen leaned across her table to hear more.

Emma took her arm and steered her closer to the back door, away from the other crafters. “You didn’t have to say he was hot. I heard it in your voice.”

Brooke sputtered, trying to form words. Were her thoughts about him so obvious? “Theo and I knew each other back in the day,” she finally said.

“Yep.”

“And now he’s a lawyer,” Brooke said. “And there’s no way I’m going to hire him because he doesn’t care if I’m innocent or not.”

“So?”

“How can he be my lawyer without knowing that crucial bit of information?”

Emma’s curious look was gone, replaced by pure concern. “You have no idea how lawyers work, do you?”

“Lawyers are supposed to represent their clients, so—”

“Oh, Brooke, thank goodness you’re here.” Marci Lipinski, one of Brooke’s neighbors, was making a beeline for her table. “And you have the soap.”

Brooke and Emma exchanged a look. Of course she had soap. Why else would she be here?

“I mean, you have the soap.” Marci knocked over the pile of Pixie Wings in her haste to grab the Chateau Clair from the back of the table. “It was sold out at Riverside Gifts so I had to come here to get it.”

Marci seemed young for Chateau Clair. She was only in her fifties. She wore jeans and high boots, and her long hair was in a ponytail. Brooke would have guessed she’d go for one of her vanilla-based soaps, or perhaps the coffee-scented one.

Emma silently rearranged the soaps that Marci had knocked over.

“Sorry about that,” Marci said. “I got excited. This is for my mom.”

Marci was the caregiver for her mother, who was going through the middle stage of Alzheimer’s. People with dementia often lost their sense of smell, but highly fragranced things could sometimes cut through the fog.

“She responds to this one?” Brooke asked.

“It’s the only way I can get her into the shower,” Marci said. “She’ll wash if this soap is in there. I lie to her sometimes. I tell her, ‘Dad is waiting for you, he’s going to take you on a date, you have to get ready.’ That’s enough to get her into the shower and by the time she gets out, she’s forgotten about my dad. Sometimes she forgets she had kids. But hey, at least she’s clean.”

Brooke couldn’t help thinking about her own mom, and how terrible it would be if she forgot about Dad, or forgot that she ever fell in love and had a family with him. It made her heart hurt.

Everything about Marci looked tired, from the circles under her eyes to her faded jeans and old barn coat. She unzipped her backpack purse and held up the Chateau Clair. “How much is this?”

“We’re having a show special today,” Brooke said. “Buy one soap, get one free. I have two bars of your mom’s favorite, or you can pick anything else on the table if you’d like to get something for yourself.”