Chapter 14 – Violet
Ireally wanted to stay angry with Lee. He’d been part of the misery of my high school years, and that stung.
I thought we were friends. Maybe it was delusional to believe my brothers had acted alone in their pranks on the boys I liked.
But I’d thought Lee was too serious, too good a guy, to go along with their tricks.
Even after all these years, discovering he played a role in keeping me off-limits felt like a betrayal.
That anger settled deep, like a wound I hadn’t realized was there.
He'd had plenty of time to come clean. Why now?
But part of me knew why now. For someone who plotted murders on the regular, he had an oversized conscience. I could see him struggling with putting the moves on me when the past still hung between us. He wouldn’t want it to come out later, and I could respect that. Begrudgingly.
Telling myself that high school was a long time ago helped.
Remembering all the sweet things he’d done for me in the last year helped more.
The time he’d helped me troubleshoot my generator.
The weekend he crawled under my house, trying to close off areas where the raccoons were getting in.
But I still wasn’t quite ready to forgive him.
He’d gone to my brothers. Before me.
I was a grown-ass woman. I could date whomever I wanted.
Who? Whom. Whatever. My brothers were finally tied up with women of their own.
Good women. Ones who wouldn’t let them intrude on my love life.
Maybe Lee thought it was a mark of his loyalty to talk with them first. Which again, countered his argument that his first allegiance was to me.
But damn, I wished it were true. As one of four kids, first loyalty was never mine. My brothers always hung together like glue. Rightfully, my parents refused to pick favorites. As the only girl, I should have had a lock on my mother, but her soft spot had always been for Drew.
Gran’s loyalty blew like the wind, landing wherever benefited her most. I loved her mercenary little heart. I didn’t blame her for supporting my brothers’ teenage shenanigans. She was practically still a teenager herself.
An older couple pushed into the Salty Pantry, making the cheerful bell above the door jingle, and I pulled my focus from the accounts I was pretending to balance on my laptop, smiling.
“Good afternoon, welcome to the Salty Pantry. I’m happy to answer questions, if you want to look around. Let me know if I can get you anything.”
The couple circled, stopping at my popcorn sample station. I hid a smile. It was my best marketing hack: offering free samples of popcorn dusted with the Island Salts popcorn blend. I sold more cases than our website and distributors combined.
The mingled aromas of tea, baked goods, and popcorn hung, rich and heady, and warm as a fall day.
The Salty Pantry invited you to browse, buy, and stay awhile.
Neat and organized, with artsy photos from the salt farm on the walls, the space avoided the cold precision of a grocery store, landing somewhere between a tea shop and an artisan market.
Not too crowded, not too sparse. I’d placed a few chairs inside for patrons who preferred to sip and eat away from the elements.
Adirondacks graced the front yard beneath umbrellas - for husbands holding purses and customers who liked to people-watch while they enjoyed their treats.
After ringing up the couple’s popcorn blend and a BBQ salt that was excellent on pork tenderloin, I tried to focus again on my books. The Salty Pantry was turning a tidy profit. Not bad for a tiny island boutique in winter.
It made me feel a little less guilty for closing up shop while I was helping Lee.
While I could have called in a favor and asked Gran to cover for me, no one wanted that.
Not really. Letting Gran loose on an unsuspecting public was a good way to end up with online reviews that said, “The penis decorating demonstration was a bit raunchy, but the caramel is delicious.” Ask me how I know.
Anya: How’s it going with Lee?
Anya’s nosy text broke up my slow afternoon, and I jumped on my phone, eager to complain to someone who wasn’t him about our situation, even if it was only via text.
Vi: Getting on my last nerve.
Anya: Is that what you call it when a man takes you out to a fancy meal and orders the whole stinkin’ menu?
Vi: Maybe.
Vi: Still mad.
Anya: Does he want to come make me mad?
Vi: You have Drew for that.
Anya: I do. I really, really do.
Vi: What has he done now?
Anya: Nothing.
Vi: What has he *not* done now?
Anya: Still nothing. I’m coming over.
A few minutes later, a familiar perky blonde head bobbed into view through the plate glass door. Anya wore yoga pants, but she’d added a heavy sweatshirt over her tank top in deference to the cold. It rained a bit after lunch. Now, the sky outside was stubbornly gray.
“Hey, Anya.”
A blast of cold followed her inside, and I shivered, reaching for my sweatshirt. She lingered by the front window, her gaze flicking outside before she caught me watching. A smile slid into place, a touch too quick, her shoulders still tight.
“Guess I’ll never stop looking over my shoulder,” she said lightly, as if it were a joke.
I let it pass, reaching for the teapot to give her an easy out. “Would you like some tea? My treat.”
I used to see her every day. Since she moved in with Drew, time alone with my friend was scarce.
“If you have some of that island-grown black vanilla loose leaf, that would be amazing.”
I steeped a mug for each of us before ushering her toward the tiny bistro table tucked into a corner.
In the summer, I took my breaks and lunches at a table in the back courtyard.
But it was too cold today. The tiny table was perfect for the odd customer who wanted to enjoy their coffee and pastry in the store.
Anya examined me with shrewd eyes over her mug. “Okay, spill it. What did Lee do?”
“He admitted he was part of it all, back in high school.”
“The bullying?” She frowned.
“I wouldn’t call it that, exactly…”
“Are you sure?”
My shoulders slumped. “Okay. Yes. I like to think they’ve all grown since then.”
“If we romantically ruled out every man who’s ever been a jackass, humanity would end.”
“Gee, you’re certain Drew hasn’t done something I should know about?”
“No. Your brother and I are fine. Great, in fact. But he makes mistakes. For that matter, so do I. It’s part of being human.” She pointed at me. “I know you’re not infallible.” She shuddered. “I still remember the time you microwaved fish.”
I rolled my eyes. “Point made.”
She leaned forward, batting her lashes. “So, dish. You and Lee, huh?”
“There’s nothing much to tell,” I said airily. “I’m helping him out. He took me out to dinner.”
“No making out and getting caught in public places? No near-nudity?” Anya wrinkled her nose. “Are you sure you’re a Fenwick?”
I chuckled, remembering the hell we gave her and Drew at the beginning of their courtship.
“Yes. My one hundred percent pure, unadulterated, Fenwick genetics are flowing strong.”
Her eyes flashed. “That means you have a plan.”
I laughed, surprised how well she knew me. “Yes. I do. Wanna help?”
We plotted like naughty schoolgirls, laughing and joking through the rough sketch of the idea that started when Lee admitted his part in my status as Friday Harbor girl most likely to stay single.
“You don’t think it’s too much?” I finally asked Anya.
She pursed her lips. “I think that’s your family motto. Embrace it. Pretty sure Lee already knows the score. If he isn’t expecting payback, he should be.”
On that ominous note, she said goodbye, leaving me to help the last couple of customers who browsed the store before I closed.
The chatter of the shop quieted as they drifted out with their paper bags, the bell over the door giving one last cheerful jingle.
I flipped the sign to Closed, enjoying the hush that followed.
For a moment, it was just me, the faint smell of spices and the muted hum of traffic outside. I stepped toward the front window, ready to draw the blinds. That was when I saw him.
A bulky man with a beard and leather jacket leaned against an SUV parked across the street. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. I dipped my chin. Something about the sardonic twitch of his lips I received in return made me think he wasn’t a local after all.
Tourists passed through all the time, but something about him made the hair on my neck rise.