Chapter Five #2
“Maybe. I cannot see his genitals,” she flung up at me. Well, up two inches. Height did not run in the Aubert bloodlines. “I will find out from Edgar and then we shall use that information on him to take his peg down.”
“Down a peg,” I corrected and got a scowl. “Do not ask Edgar about any part of Phillips’ body. I am not engaging in body-shaming.”
“That is what is wrong with your generation. You do not strike the jugular when it is exposed.”
“Maybe we’re just not heartless bitches!” As soon as that flew out of my mouth I tried to grab the words hanging in front of me but it was too late. There was no snapping them from the vanilla-scented air then shoving them back down my throat. “I did not mean that.”
Mamie wet her lips, cleared her throat, and snatched her shawl out from under the register. “You know where to find me to apologize for that. And do not send me a sorry text for I will only accept your beg-pardon in the face.”
“Mamie, please I just…”
She took her little purse, that damn yellow shawl, and left the shop with her head held high while her eyes were dewy. I ran to the door, the bells still ringing from her departure, and watched as she climbed into her little, slightly battered red Peugeot 205 and sped off.
“That’s it. I’m done.” I flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED . With pay since it wasn’t their fault I was falling apart at the seams. Not like we were going to miss out on many sales anyway.
Feeling as shitty as a man could feel, I locked up after saying goodbye to my workers out front.
My beater truck sat along the curb; the passenger seat filled with the goodies for this weekend’s scheduled birthday walk at the bridge.
Last night this idea seemed amazing. Now, as I sat staring at my darkened shop, the winds of fate blowing through the cab, my fun time plans for Conor’s birthday felt stupid. Kind of like me…
I MADE A few stops before I ventured out into the countryside to my old cottage to make amends.
Mamie was outside, weeding her flower garden when I pulled up.
I loved this little house so much. It was cramped, with only one bedroom, but it was charming with its cedar shake siding and large oak trees.
Mamie had settled in nicely after she had sold her home in town to save us from bankruptcy after the pandemic had decimated our business.
That influx of cash had helped keep us afloat for a few years, but old machinery broke, loans came due, taxes had to be paid, and here we were facing that same dark despair once more.
I should have been able to do something to get us out of our hole, but for the life of me I didn’t know how or what.
Neither did anyone else. What could you do with no money coming in? Nothing,
She peeked around the large sun bonnet she wore when out in the sun. She maintained the reason she looked so young was because her skin was never exposed to the elements.
“I see you have come bearing gifts for the woman who taught you how to create the perfect glaze for blackcurrant souffle candy squares,” she tossed out as she went back to plucking sprigs of grass from her flowerbed.
I placed the bottle of rosé, a bouquet of wildflowers picked along the way, and a small bottle of Dior Bois d’Argent I’d charged to my overburdened credit card last month to stash away for her birthday present come November on the ground beside her.
Now seemed the best time to pull out the big guns.
“You spend too much on perfume,” she added when she saw the offerings resting on her neatly cut grass.
“Not nearly enough,” I replied as I dropped to kneel on the lawn I had mowed last Sunday. “I’m so very sorry, Mamie. I did not mean what I said. I know you are the kindest woman on the planet and—”
“Pfft, you’re making me sick with the lies.
” She sat back on her heels, her pink kneepads matching her bubblegum capris, topped with a carnation tone short-sleeve blouse.
“I know that I am no sweet angel. Far from it. I speak my mind in a world that dislikes women having a mind at all, let alone saying what is on it. No, you do not need to make me sound like an archangel, for I do have my ways. What you must apologize for is the use of the word—”
“Bitch. I know. That was—”
“Please, do stop making the words for my mouth, Haider. Do you think I have never been called that word before? Ma douce, I love being called a bitch, for that means that I stood up and fought for something instead of lying down like a meek mouse. Men dislike strong women, and think that is a slur, but no, not for me. For me it is a word that I am reclaimed, like the gays have taken queer back from a derogatory.”
I nodded. I understood where she was going. “Heartless. I said you were heartless.”
“Yes, and that was the one that cut the deepest. I am many things but uncaring is not one of them.”
“I know. I do. You’re the reason that I even have a shop. You’ve done so much for me…sold your house, worked long hours teaching me all that you know, and all I’ve done for you is failed over and over.”
She tsked me then removed her soiled gardening gloves. Mamie did not dig in the dirt with bare hands. Please. Did she look like a hog rooting for truffles? Ladies wore gloves when they worked in le jardin.
“Darling boy, you are not a failure to me. We do this together, yes?” I stared at her soft hands clasping mine.
Smaller than mine but not by much. Much nicer nails.
My cuticles were a mess as I picked them steadily when I wasn’t working.
“The shop is not failing; it is just treading water badly.” I snorted.
“No, listen, we are not abandoning the ship. We are going to turn the table on those damn Brauning toads. And we are starting with Edgar.”
“Mamie, please, I’m not sure you should—”
“I am sure I should. He finds me alluring, you know?” I shook my head.
“Well, he does. He is saying many good things about his boss now but once he sees me in my green summer dress tomorrow at lunch he will start to weaken. No man can resist me in my best dress with the pearls from my grandmother on my ears and Dior on my wrist.”
“Mamie, I’m not sure—”
“Shh. I know what I am doing. Now, give me your hand and we shall go inside to have some of this lovely wine you brought for being a rude boy. I have a tray of raspberry tarts cooling on the rack.”
“I love your raspberry tarts.” I stood then aided her in rising from the ground.
“I know, that is why I made them when I got home. I knew you would be here with that sad dog face to express regret for calling me that word.”
“You knew I would come right away?” I asked, her hand on my elbow. A honey bee zipped by, intent on visiting the dark purple blooms of her rhododendron.
“I knew you would be here before the tarts cooled. I have taught you many things, Haider, and one of those most important things is how to keep your Mamie happy.”
She tipped her head then tapped her cheek. I pressed my lips to skin as supple and soft as cashmere. Keeping the sun off your face really did do wonders.
“I love you so very much,” I whispered.
She patted my arm. “I know. Now come, we will chill then drink the wine, eat tarts, and plot the demise of our adversaries.”
I had no clue how she meant to topple the largest chocolate company in Europe but if anyone could do it, it was Mamie.