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Maddie froze in her tracks. Miss Dotty was a widow in her late sixties. Her stroke several years back had taken her from eccentric to downright kooky. Maddie kept waiting for the day Miss Dotty decided to streak nude through the square. The idea of her dating was a little disconcerting.
“Ever since the bachelor auction last Valentine’s Day, I’ve been thinking about trying my hand at romance again. I was disappointed, of course, when you outbid me for Grant, but I know he’s too young for me. I need to find someone like Bert. He and Vera have really hit it off.”
“Bert and Vera are dating?” Maddie couldn’t help but ask.
“Yep,” Pepper answered. “For about two months now. They got together at the Fourth of July picnic and have been nearly inseparable since then. You haven’t heard?”
“No,” Maddie said. She didn’t like Pepper’s tone, implying she was stupid somehow for not noticing. Did people not realize that she’d spent all summer getting her new business going? She’d completely overhauled the old Rosewood Bakery. Madelyn’s was on a whole other level. It was elegant and refined, featuring a new selection of French pastries she’d mastered while studying in Paris. The interior was redone with intricately designed blush-and-cream wallpaper and new wainscoting—which hadn’t put itself up, thankyouverymuch. The crystal chandelier was imported from Marseille.
And that was just the beginning. She was working on opening a tea shop in the room over the bakery and was already hosting princess-themed birthday parties there. She didn’t have time to worry about what others were doing, especially when it came to two old people making out like teenagers all over town. “I don’t work in the beauty shop, so I’m not privy to the town gossip. Not that I really care.”
“You should care,” Miss Dotty said. “You might be young and beautiful now, with your choice of suitors, but that won’t always be the case. Someday you may end up like me—an old, withered-up widow with needs. Bert and Vera have given me hope that maybe that itch can get scratched.
”
Oh dear Jesus. That was the last image Maddie wanted in her head. She took a deep breath. No, no. She was not going to let those pictures settle into her brain. It was bad enough when she found out that Bert had been responsible for the demise of Rosewood Bakery’s previous owner, who’d died from a heart attack after joining him in a night of passion.
“What can I get you today, Pepper?” Maddie said, trying desperately to shift the subject away from senior sex.
Pepper turned back to the case with a twinkle of amusement in her dark eyes. She seemed to get some pleasure out of Maddie’s discomfort. Someone should enjoy it, she supposed. “Give me a blueberry, and an apple cinnamon muffin, a slice of the orange pound cake—”
“That’s Grant’s favorite,” Maddie piped up brightly.
Pepper looked at her with a deadpan expression. “Yes, I know. A cinnamon roll,” she continued, “and a Bavarian cream horn. That’s for me, so could you put it in a separate box?”
“Sure thing,” Maddie said, although she didn’t really want to. Her pastry boxes were custom-made, pink with embossed gold lettering on the top. They weren’t cheap. Every time she handed one out, she watched that money slip away. She probably needed to invest in some bags for smaller items and some plain boxes, saving the nice ones for more important things. She just hated to do it. It was one of the touches that made Madelyn’s special, and it was good advertising. Advertising her father insisted she didn’t need, given she was the only bakery in town.
Shaking off her father’s doubts, she boxed up Pepper’s order and rang her up. She ignored Pepper and Miss Dotty’s idle chatter while she ran Pepper’s credit card. She was about to slip the signed receipt into the cash drawer when the chime on the front door announced another customer. It was quite the busy Thursday morning.
Maddie looked up in time to see Miss Francine, the owner of the local flower shop, Petal Pushers, rushing through the door. She came by every morning with a bouquet of fresh flowers that Maddie displayed on the counter. She was clutching a bouquet of pale pink hydrangeas and white dahlias, but she didn’t seem particularly interested in the flowers.
“Oh my heavens, have y’all seen it?” Miss Francine was red-faced and absolutely horrified. She thrust the bouquet across the counter to Maddie and shook her head in dismay. “It’s disgraceful.”
“Seen what?” Miss Dotty asked.
Miss Francine took a moment to recover before she could speak of the dreadful thing. “Someone has spray-painted a giant penis on the side of the Piggly Wiggly.”
Miss Dotty snickered. Pepper smothered a snort of laughter. Maddie just sighed. This town was so unrefined sometimes. She worked hard trying to bring some culture and elegance to Rosewood and just when she was starting to make progress, a ten-foot wiener shows up on the side of the grocery store and sets her back months.
“I could see it out the window of my shop this morning. I went to turn the Open placard and there it was in bright red paint like a damn neon sign. Some teenager’s prank, I’m sure. Pat Kincaid, the manager of the grocery store, is out there painting over it right now, but the damage is done. The elementary school bus already went by and all the kids saw it. Clark Newton at the newspaper even snapped a few pictures for the front page of the Rosewood Times tomorrow.”
“There’ll be some interesting discussions around the dinner table tonight,” Pepper mused.
“Indeed. I’m so rattled by the whole thing—I think I might get a little something, Maddie. My blood sugar feels low from the shock of it all.”
She must really be rattled. Miss Francine was not the kind to indulge in sweets and empty calories. For a woman in her sixties, she hadn’t yet fallen prey to the ravages of time. She was nearly six feet tall with the body of an Amazon and a head of neatly coiffed red-gold hair. Miss Francine gazed at the morning’s offerings while Maddie arranged the flowers in a crystal vase.
The hydrangeas were a particularly lovely shade of pink today. A pale, rosy color that went with the wallpaper without overpowering it. They were perfect. Yesterday’s gerbera daisies had been a little too bright for her taste, but part of the agreement she made with Miss Francine was that in exchange for a reduced rate it was florist’s choice and a placard on the counter that noted they were from Petal Pushers.
“Well, I’d better get these treats to the boys before my first appointment,” Pepper said. “I’ll see y’all later. Thanks, Maddie.”
Maddie raised a hand as Pepper slipped out of her shop. That just left Miss Francine and Miss Dotty, although she didn’t really know why Miss Dotty was still here. Nothing better to do, apparently.
Maddie didn’t have that problem. Sunday was her only day off. She got up at 3:00 a.m. every day but Sunday, arriving at the shop by four to start baking the day’s goods. By the time the sun came up, she had trays of cinnamon rolls and sticky buns cooling, muffins and breads baking, and pastry cream whipping up in the mixer. When she opened at eight, most things were ready to go for the day.
The shop closed briefly after the lunch rush for her to get a bite to eat, then reopened and stayed open until five thirty. It was nonstop every day but Sunday, when she went to church, had dinner with her family, and spent the evening working on the shop’s books. Math wasn’t her forte, but she couldn’t afford an accountant. She’d get a much-needed assistant before she got an accountant.
With a sigh, Maddie leaned against the back counter, which was lined with a display of faux cakes. It was only nine in the morning and she was exhausted.
