Death Waxed Over - Tim Myers [24]
“I have my moments,” I said, smiling slightly.
Pearly left, the slump in his shoulders eased somewhat. I couldn’t imagine what he was going through, but I’d do my best to help him deal with it. I’d find a way to hold the complex together until he got back.
It was too early for lunch, but I couldn’t face going back to an empty shop, so I decided to indulge in one of Millie’s pastry treats. She waited on a few customers ahead of me, then said, “What can I get you today, Harrison?”
“I was hoping you had something special on the menu this morning.”
She smiled. “You mean something along the lines of a bakery item?”
“I wouldn’t say no to something sweet,” I said.
“I’ve got just the thing, if you can wait five minutes. It’s cooling on the rack. It’s called Apple Pan Dowdy and it’s wonderful, if I say so myself. I got the recipe from George’s mother, though she put off giving it to me until we’d been married ten years. She wanted to make sure the marriage was going to last before she shared the family secret; it’s that good.”
“I can’t wait,” I said.
“Well, you’re going to have to force yourself. It’s so much better when it’s cooled slightly.” She lowered her voice, though most of her customers had taken the tables near the windows to enjoy the river view. “How are you?”
“Well, I was hoping it was just my imagination, but if things keep going the way they are, I’m going to be out of the candleshop business by spring.”
“Harrison, you’ve got to have more faith in people than that. Your customers are going to stick by you.”
I considered telling her about Mrs. Jorgenson’s cancellation, and the feeble excuse she’d used, but there was no reason to burden Millie with my problems. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“That’s the spirit.” Her telephone rang, and as she answered it, I looked through the display case to see what else Millie had been up to. Though she was trying to keep her voice low, I could catch everything she was saying. “I won’t do it, George, so stop asking.” After a pause, she said, “I don’t care what they think, and frankly, I’m disappointed you do. Good-bye, George.”
Millie hung up the telephone rather forcefully, then stared at me a moment. “Don’t pretend you didn’t hear that,” she said.
“It’s none of my business,” I said.
“That’s where you’re wrong. Some of the folks George works with think I should take a vacation until this mess is cleared up, and my loving husband, who’s normally bright enough to know better, suggested I do just that.”
“Millie, I’m sorry. I can’t believe this is affecting you.”
“We’re a family here, Harrison. What affects one of us affects the rest. Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
Millie said, “In fact, I can do you one better than that. I made an extra Pan Dowdy for George, but he’s shown himself particularly unworthy at the moment. I want you to have it; if you like the recipe, that is.”
“I shouldn’t,” I said, thinking of the calories more than anything else.
“Nonsense, you’ll hurt my feelings if you turn it down. It’s either you or George eating this. Otherwise it’s going in the garbage.”
A man from one of the tables said, “If they don’t want it, I’ll pay top dollar, Millie. I’ve had your Pan Dowdy before.”
“Harry James Hickman, you know better than to eavesdrop on other folks while they’re talking.” Then she winked at him and added, “But I might save you a piece if you play your cards right.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Harry said with a smile.
“Would it help if I talked to George myself?” I said. “Maybe I can convince him that I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Millie shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m sure he’ll realize his error by the time he gets home, especially after he misses the smell of my cooking. He doesn’t know it yet, but George is taking me out to dinner tonight.”
I was about to reply when Suzanne Gladstone rushed in. She made straight for me and said, “Harrison, I need Pearly, and I need him fast.”
“I’m sorry, but he’s taking a few days off.”
“I’m sorry too,