19. Marnie
Dusty leads the way to the front door, flinging it open like he owns the place. “Mrs. Elliot. How the hell are you, ma’am?”
She narrows her eyes at his cheeky greeting, but I can see a pleased twinkle in her eye. “Good morning, Dusty.”
He steps aside and Barb’s eye falls on me. “Mrs. Elliot, I’d like to introduce Marnie Black.”
Barb’s eyes scan my face. She’s about my height, and soft looking. With curly gray hair and horn-rimmed glasses. Those lips painted a rosy pink color part in surprise. “My goodness. You look just like Naomi.”
Now that is a comparison I will gladly receive. While mom and I shared our dark features, she was willowy and slim and just plain beautiful. I’m the mini version. Compact. Soft features, where mom’s were sharp enough to cut steel.
“Coffee anyone?”
Dusty asks, grinning. He’s clearly pleased with himself.
“That would be wonderful.”
Barb says, following us into the kitchen.
She sits at the table, and I reluctantly settle into the seat across from her.
“Are you back for long?”
Barb asks, still scanning my face. “You’re from Lincoln, is that right?”
“That’s right.”
I shift in my chair. “I’m just here getting Uncle Gus’s things squared away and then I’ll be on my way.”
“I see.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, like I’m a puzzle she plans to solve.
“Dusty mentioned you were a classmate of my mom’s?”
Her expression eases. “From kindergarten on. Although Naomi and I never ran in the same crowds.”
I paint a playful smile on my face. “Which crowds did my mom run in?”
“Oh, you know. The popular ones. Cheerleaders and jocks.”
She smiles ruefully at Dusty when he places a mug in front of her. “Not unlike this little heartbreaker.”
He slides a mug in front of me, winking at Barb. “I’m as innocent as a lamb.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Barb says, glancing pointedly at his earring. “Just like Runner was.”
Dusty flinches slightly before recovering. He grins at the two of us. “Well, I’ve got work to get to. You ladies all squared away?”
“We’re fine, Dusty.”
Barb says. “You stay cool, you hear?”
“I’ll try, Mrs. Elliot.”
She watches him retreat, shaking her head with a grin on her face. “Just like his father.”
“How so?”
She meets my gaze, grinning. “Handsome as sin. Nothing but trouble. Although, Runner seemed to find more than his fair share of it. Dusty had the good luck of falling in with those Thomas boys. And your Uncle Gus seemed to keep him out of trouble, too.”
“Uncle Gus did?”
“Oh, yes. He was always barking at that boy. He would have made a good father. It’s a shame he never got married.”
“Yeah.”
“I never understood that.”
Barb shakes her head. “Such a nice man. Quiet, yes, but came from a good family. Had a lot to offer a wife. But he was always so painfully shy. Not like your mom. That woman was a walking, talking ray of sunshine.”
I think of my mother, quiet and mellow, and tilt my head. “Are we talking about the same woman?”
“Oh yes. Naomi was just the sassiest little thing. And when she became head cheerleader,”
Barb laughs, shaking her head. “I can remember how scandalized the school board was when she introduced the school to her choreography. It was probably pretty tame compared to the way the girls dance these days, but back then, it was pretty shocking. Wiggling hips and the like.”
“I don’t think I ever saw my mother dance.”
“Really?”
“I was on the dance team, actually. And she was always complaining that we were too risqué.”
Barb laughs. “That’s a bit ironic.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, anyway, Marnie. I won’t beat around the bush. I came here to ask for your help. If I have to beg, I will. My daughter’s wedding is next week. And thanks to that sly fox, Edna Korra, we don’t have a baker. RayAnne is just beside herself. And I can’t blame her. I didn’t think that girl would ever get married. She’s a late bloomer, you know. But now that she is getting married, I just want it to be perfect for her.”
“Of course.”
Barb gives me a hopeful look. “I can’t hardly bake her a box cake or anything. She deserves something beautiful. And Dusty was telling me what a fantastic baker you are. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do, but if you could see it in your heart to help a poor little late bloomer out, we’d be so darn grateful.”
I look at those blue eyes, owlish and magnified by those glasses, and feel my resolve slipping.
“What exactly did she have in mind?”
Barb’s eyes light up. She whips out her phone and shows me a picture she took of a handwritten order form. There’s even a little diagram of the planned cake. It’s old-fashioned. Classic. “That’s what RayAnne asked for?”
Barb tilts her head. “Not quite, but Edna wasn’t usually very open to creative suggestions.”
“What did RayAnne actually want?”
Barb navigates to RayAnne’s Pin Board and shows me a modern wedding cake with smooth fondant icing. Delicate wildflowers paint the smooth surface and fresh flowers grace the tiers. “That’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, but Edna said the little paintings are probably impossible.”
“No. It’s easy enough to do watercolor icing.”
Barb perks up. “You think you could do that?”
I hesitate. Between the tense hope scrawled on her face and the fact that I have at least a week’s worth of sorting ahead of me, I feel the last of my reservations crumble. I’m stuck here anyway, might as well do a good deed. “Definitely. I just need your guest count and your budget.”
Barb crows, lighting up. “Oh, thank you, Marnie. Sweet angel. RayAnne will be over the moon.”
I glance out the window, spotting Dusty hefting heavy burlap bags out of the back of his truck.
Something tells me his chance meeting with Barb Elliot was no coincidence.
I tilt my head, wondering what wedding cakes and that sexy farm boy have in common.
It’s clear he’s up to something. I just have to figure out what.