Chapter 40
Nate knew three things by Friday morning.
One, unless he wanted to keep doing laundry every other day, he needed more clothes.
Two, unless he wanted to make the forty-minute drive into Murfreesboro, he needed to visit Marty’s Mercantile, the one store in Bugle where he’d find any options.
And three, unless he wanted to get drilled about his personal business and set up with all sorts of women he had zero interest in dating, he needed to duck behind the stand of homemade candles and lip balm. Fast.
“Nate? Is that you?”
Should’ve been faster.
“It is you.” The voice belonged to Brenda, one of the ladies from his mom’s church.
Her petite frame rushed forward holding a decorative sign reading One cat just leads to another because that was the sort of thing Marty’s Mercantile sold in addition to candles, lip balm, clothing, and gourmet snacks.
“Heard you were back in town. What are you up to?”
Light instrumental music played overhead.
The wooden floorboards creaked as he shifted his weight to eye the back corner of the store where a rack of men’s flannel shirts stood next to a stack of crates containing the T-shirts, shorts, socks, and underwear he’d been hoping to purchase without bumping into anyone he knew.
“Oh, you know.” Nate grabbed a candle and tipped it toward his nose. “Just checking out the scents.” Easier than explaining his lost carry-on saga.
“Blueberry cinnamon,” Brenda said, pushing up the pair of oversized glasses she’d owned so long they’d made the full circle of going out and coming back in style. “Don’t you just want to gobble it up?”
“With a fork.” He no sooner returned the candle to the shelf, Brenda latched on to his forearm with a grip that was surprisingly strong for such a small-framed lady.
“So is it true?”
“Well, I’d have to be exceptionally hungry.”
“The rumors of a girlfriend, silly. I heard she’s from Nebraska, I heard she’s super tall, and I heard she sent your mom the sweetest text message, saying she was praying for your aunt. How is she, by the way. Any updates on the surgery? It’s today, right?”
“No word yet. They said it could take several hours. Back up a second. McKenna sent my mom a text message?”
“Is that her name? Funny. For some reason I had it in my mind her name was Wendy.”
The way news traveled in this town was almost scary. “She’s definitely not my girlfriend.”
“McKenna?”
“Wendy. Both. Anybody.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could snuff them out like a candle. But Brenda had already picked up on the scent. Her pupils dilated like a cat rolling in catnip. “So you’re still single?”
“Well—”
“Wonderful. Because I have the perfect girl in mind for you. Great cook. You’ll never go hungry. Let me give you her number. I was thinking with the Dominoes Dance coming up next Saturday, what better opportunity than to—”
“Don’t listen to a word she’s saying, Nate Lambert.
” Great. Another voice he knew. This one belonged to Eileen, another friend of his mom’s.
She was the same height as Brenda, but double the girth.
She paused next to the display of dill pickle–flavored popcorn long enough to drop a package into her basket, then scurried over to them waving an arm covered in beaded bracelets at Brenda.
“She’s trying to set you up with her elderly cousin who’s been divorced four times. ”
“Only because she hasn’t found the right guy yet. And what do you mean by elderly? She’s my age.”
“That’s what I mean by elderly. No way Nate’s dating someone in their early sixties.”
“Early fifties, thank you.”
“Mid, and that’s being generous. Now my niece on the other hand—”
“Who, Tori?” Brenda smacked Eileen on the shoulder with her cat sign. “You said she’s dating some slacker in Knoxville.”
“She is dating some slacker in Knoxville. Which is why I need Nate to sweep her off her feet so she’ll forget all about the slacker in Knoxville.”
“Nate,” another voice hollered as the door to the store jingled open.
Lovely. Mrs. Zeigler. His former middle school principal.
Apparently Marty’s Mercantile was the place to be this morning.
“Glad I spotted you through the window,” she said, swaggering inside wearing a long flowery dress and a wide-brimmed straw hat.
She tugged off her sunglasses. “Lottie says your momma’s bed and breakfast is in trouble. Is that true?”
“What?” Brenda squeezed Nate’s arm even tighter. “I hadn’t heard that. What’s wrong with The Happy Hiccup?”
“The B&B is fine,” Nate said.
“Good,” Mrs. Zeigler said, sounding relieved as she slipped her sunglasses onto her dress, making the front droop and reveal more cleavage than any man should see on their former middle school principal. “Now tell me what you know about the celebrity Georgie keeps grinning about.”
“Lottie says it’s the beekeeper,” said Eileen, popping a handful of popcorn into her mouth. Had she paid for that?
“Can’t be,” said Mrs. Zeigler. “The name starts with an e.”
“I thought it ended with an e,” said a guy Nate didn’t know holding two lightbulbs and a package of white socks. Those better not be the last of the ankle socks.
“Then why did I overhear Gus saying Jeff Goldblum might be coming to town?” said Eileen.
“Really?” Brenda’s grip was starting to cut off all feeling to Nate’s fingers. “I love him. He’s kooky. Will he be staying at the bed and breakfast?”
“Nobody is staying at the bed and breakfast,” said Nate.
“I thought I heard your girlfriend was staying at the bed and breakfast,” said Mrs. Zeigler.
“She’s not his girlfriend,” said Brenda, Eileen, and Lightbulb Man.
“So then why can’t Jeff stay there? I bet Nancy would let him stay at her Airbnb,” said Mrs. Zeigler.
Brenda gasped, releasing Nate’s arm to latch on to Eileen’s basket so hard it knocked over the open bag of popcorn. “I knew there was something I needed to tell you. Did you know Nancy and Lottie are friends now? They went and saw a movie together last night.”
“What?” Now Eileen was gripping Brenda by her cat sign. “I didn’t know that. Nate, does your mom know that?”
Nate shook his head and took a step out of gripping range. “I have no idea what my mom knows.”
But one thing he did know—next time he needed more clothes, he’d be making the forty-minute drive into Murfreesboro.