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One
Sean
As I pull up to the Public Works Department to discuss another possible electrical contracting job with my acquaintance—and the director—Matt Newby, a redheaded woman zips inside ahead of me. The thing that grabs my attention first are the stripes of bright pale green that flutter around her cheeks. She’s tinted the hair that frames her face, and while I don’t typically think about women’s hair that much, I find the color…intriguing.
The next eye-opener is how she walks, with a skip in almost every step. Following her, as if my feet have been called by some invisible Pied Piper, I catch her going into Matt’s office. I continue to follow her, since I’m heading in this direction anyway, becoming caught up in the aroma that’s wafting through the air. It reminds me of autumn, of a scent and a flavor that gets added to nearly everything this time of year.
I grab a few whiffs of it, wondering if it originates with her.
The door is open, allowing me to overhear their conversation, even though that’s not my intent.
“You do realize that you interrupted an official phone call, right?” Matt. I recognize his voice.
“You were hanging up, Mattie. Don’t act like you weren’t. Do you want these muffins or not?” says a light and exquisitely feminine tone that reminds me of bells ringing around the holidays.
“Well, of course, I want the muffins. Bring ’em over.”
“Ask nicely.”
There’s a huff of breath. “Please bring the muffins over here,” he speaks in a monotone, but apparently, the magic word works.
“They’re pumpkin spice with cranberries and pecans. Your favorite.”
Pumpkin spice with cranberries and pecans? That sounds like heaven. Even though Matt and his friend are clearly not finished, I find myself stepping up to the threshold as if obeying a tug at the end of a rope.
His mouth is full of one of the muffins Green Stripes has brought, the scent of pies and cinnamon redolent in the room, when she turns to spy me in the doorway. I half expect to be reprimanded for butting in on their private discussion, but she surprises me by donning a white, incandescent smile instead.
“Here. Want one?” Before I can say yay or nay, she’s already handed one over, the paper bottom warm in my palm and smelling of pure decadence. I stare at her, noting that the green of her hair matches her eyes exactly, and say nothing. Not a word. Then, like a sudden sunshine-filled tornado, she whirls past me and is gone.
Matt’s the one who snaps me out of my reverie, blowing off the woman’s intrusion like a nuisance.
“She’s a pain in my ass, but she sure can bake.” I purse my lips at him with disapproval which he must notice, based on his response. “Ah, quit giving me the evil eye. She’s my baby sister, so I’msupposedto find her annoying as all hell, which she most certainly is.”
“Your sister?” I ask.
“Yeah, that was Becca. She owns A Cut Above, the salon down at the corner of Second and Main.”
I picture the salon at the corner, which has a bubblegum-pink exterior and a huge sign over the door in a loopy font. Yep. It all tracks.
“Heard you have need of me.”
“I do,” Matt confirms. “Know that new addition out east of town? The one owned by Brandywine Homes, the local home-building company?”
“Sure.”
“They broke ground a few weeks ago on their first batch of single-family units and are going to be ready for electrical in two to three days. Interested?”
“Absolutely.”
He hands over a file. “Then the job is yours.”
This is why I appreciate Matt Newby so much. He’s been providing me with steady work ever since I first moved here to Oak Valley, Georgia, six years ago. I tread back outside and again catch a hint of that same fragrance. This time I notice it’s not just a food smell, much as I like that. There’s something sweet about it, too, something kind of flowery. Is it the muffins or maybe some perfume?
Becca’s perfume?
The vision of her floats into my mind again. She looked to be in her early thirties, but she’d acted younger than that. Not that I mean that in a derogatory manner. She just seemed youthful and full of energy, something I rarely am. In fact, being in the presence of someone as vivacious as her would probably make me tired. So it’s a good thing I dodged any actual conversation with her.
Since I updated my bid pricing with the Public Works Department a month ago, I know Matt will pay me a fair wage. Therefore, I prepare a material list and drive over to one ofthe two electrical supply companies in town. LMO Supply tends to treat me the best, while Staton’s Electric often has the best availability. That means I spend my money pretty equally at both.
