Chapter 6 #2
An older woman hurried toward me, her long yellow-white hair pulled into a side ponytail.
She balanced precariously on her purple high-heeled sandals and seemed right at home among the eclectic décor in her zebra print capris, gaudy, bedazzled shirt, and numerous bangle bracelets.
She wore enormous dangling earrings the same shade of purple as her shoes and a glass bead necklace that had been looped twice so it rested against her chest where her tanned skin puckered into wrinkles from decades of too frequent sunbathing.
“Good morning,” I replied, unable to suppress a smile. “I’m looking for Dottie Shay.”
She flapped her hands in excitement as she hurried toward me. “Oooooh!” she sang, drawing out the sound for several seconds. “You must be Zellie! Come in, come in, come in!”
I was obviously already in, but I shook her hand. “Yes, I’m Zellie Dupont. Whit Proffitt said you might have a job opening.”
“Oh, yes!” Dottie cried. “I am so pleased to meet you. Let me show you around!”
She pivoted and hurried in the other direction but came to an abrupt halt and looked back at me over her shoulder. “Wait—do you need coffee? I need coffee. It’s far too early to discuss such things without coffee. Yes, coffee? Cream? Sugar? Oh, I’ll just guess. Come on, honey!”
Not waiting for my answer, she tottered off again, motioning for me to follow.
I giggled, not sure what to think about the odd woman, and hurried after her.
She flitted around the store, showing me the different sections, pointing out all the reading nooks and warning me not to let teenagers hang out in them too long so they didn’t get up to any “hanky panky.” Then she led me into the little coffee shop that was tucked into its own alcove.
It was just as eclectic as the rest of the store—mismatched chairs and tables, odd pieces of wall décor—but here, twinkling stars hung from the ceiling.
“So, what do you think?” she asked, clearly proud. “I’m in sore need of the help! It doesn’t look busy now, but trust me, I’ve got more customers than I can handle.”
“I love it,” I told her truthfully. For the first time in a very long time, I felt… peaceful. I had no doubt that Ever After would be a haven until I could find somewhere else to live.
Dottie flapped her hands in excitement again and hugged me like we were long-lost friends. “I’m so glad!” she gushed. “My last manager was such a dear, but not very dependable, unfortunately. She was around your age, in fact. Lived at Dawes House, too, so it wasn’t just me she left high and dry.”
I frowned, my stomach sinking. “She lived at Dawes House? I didn’t realize…”
“Oh, yes,” Dottie affirmed, nodding vigorously, her giant earrings and ponytail bobbing.
“She and her little boy, Jackson. She was quite a sight the last week or two—not sleeping, barely eating. That poor girl looked a mess! And troubled. Couldn’t concentrate on anything.
Hardly a surprise when she up and left without a word.
I suppose she was a little flighty now that I look back on it. ”
Flighty? Coming from Dottie, that was saying something. I liked her immensely, but she was definitely unique.
We sat and enjoyed our coffee together—well, I enjoyed the coffee; she mostly talked about her favorite books, her life in Savannah, favorite musicians…
pretty much anything and everything without much logical progression or timeline.
I managed to get in a few short answers to her questions to me before she shifted topics again.
Eventually, she realized the time. We worked out my schedule, she handed me a key to the shop, and then she hugged me again before sending me on my way.
“Bye, now, honey! You be careful. I don’t want to lose another manager before she even starts.
” She laughed at her joke and tottered back inside, leaving me standing on the sidewalk, charmed but a little baffled by the whole experience.
Grinning to myself as I walked back to Dawes House, I took the long way around the cemetery just as I’d planned, though I still found myself sneaking glances, worried the darkhaired woman might appear again. Thankfully, nothing moved in the shadows.
But as I approached the front porch of Dawes House, the similarities between me and Dottie’s previous manager hit me all over again, slowing my steps. What had happened to her and her son? Had she seen the same things I had? Or was it something else entirely? A toxic ex? A mental breakdown?
A sudden wave of nausea washed over me so violently I doubled over, pressing my hands to my belly with a groan.
Sweat prickled my forehead and between my shoulder blades as another wave hit me.
Before I could catch my breath, the nausea hit me again, harder this time.
Weak and trembling from the pain ripping into my stomach, I stumbled to the steps and sat down just as my knees gave out.
What the hell?
I bent over, putting my face in my lap and wrapping my arms around my knees, fighting to keep my breakfast and Dottie’s coffee down as saliva filled the space beneath my tongue in ominous warning.
Then, as abruptly as it started, the nausea vanished.
I stayed hunched for a few seconds, taking slow, deep until my stomach unclenched.
When I finally lifted my head, I closed my eyes and drew in the fresh, warm air, letting it fill my lungs.
An electric saw whined nearby—one of Chase’s or a work crew’s, I guessed.
Traffic droned in the distance. Voices of people walking down the sidewalk drifted on the breeze.
Not too far away, the bell from the Cathedral Basilica of St. John the Baptist began to chime.
And then the most precious sound of all—children laughing—floated to my ears, bringing the grin back to my lips.
I recognized it immediately as belonging to Henry and Addie.
Eager to see what they were up to and share my news, I went around to the back courtyard.
There they were, partners in crime, digging happily in the little dirt plot—searching for pirate bones, presumably—while chatting away about the episode of Bubble Guppies they’d watched that morning before coming out to play.
“’Morning, Zellie darlin’,” June greeted me, waving a dirty, gloved hand, a garden trowel clutched in the other. Dressed in jeans, a short-sleeved cotton smock, and a floppy sun hat with a wide brim, she looked like she should’ve been hosting a trendy DIY gardening show.
“Well, don’t you look pretty as a peach!” her husband added from where he knelt by an azalea bush. He still somehow managed to look like a man who belonged on a golf course instead of digging in the dirt.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, heat creeping into my cheeks, not used to compliments.
“Mama!” Henry cried, running toward me to give me a hug, only to be intercepted by June, who scooped him up with a laugh.
“Oh, no, you don’t, little bit,” she said, holding up one of his muddy hands before his eyes with a smile. “You don’t want to get your mama’s dress all dirty, do you?”
Henry cackled, turned to me, making a monster face, fingers curled into claws. “I’m a mud monster, Mama!”
I shook my head. “You sure are! Are you and Addie helping or making a mess for Ms. June and Mr. Earl to clean up?”
June set Henry down. “Oh, he’s no trouble at all. It’s good for Addie to have someone to play with.”
“Thank you so much for looking after him, Ms. June,” I gushed. “I really appreciate it. I start my job with Ms. Dottie tomorrow, so I’ll be able to pay you soon for watching him.”
Earl scoffed as he stood and brushed the dirt from his gloved hands. “Nonsense! You don’t owe us a thing. We’re all family here, Zellie.”
Everyone kept saying that, but the concept seemed so foreign to me. Family that actually cared for one another, looked after each other, not expecting anything in return?
“Earl, honey,” June said softly, apparently sensing my discomfort, “why don’t you go ask Pearlie to bring out an extra glass for Zellie? Pearlie’s making her famous lemonade and some sandwiches, Zellie. Why don’t you join us and tell us all about meeting Dottie? She’s quite the character.”
I hesitated, but then I glanced at Henry who was once more digging happily beside Addie. “Thank you, Ms. June. I’d be happy to.”
June smiled. “Lovely. I’ll just go freshen up and be right back.”
A few minutes later, she emerged looking completely refreshed, this time wearing a flowing, fiery-red sundress that somehow looked both elegant and casual.
Just a few steps behind her, Pearlie appeared, also casually elegant in bright yellow, carrying a silver tray with lemonade and glasses, Earl following with another silver tray piled high with finger sandwiches.
“Children,” Pearlie called, “go wash up now.”
“Yes, ma’am!” they chimed, hopping up and racing inside.
Pearlie set the tray on a bistro table and smiled at me warmly. “Well, look at you,” she said. “You look like the world’s been lifted off your shoulders, Zellie.”
“She’s going to be working for Dottie Shay,” June supplied before I could answer. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Yes, indeed!” Pearlie agreed. She then added with a wink, “I think that deserves a celebratory lemonade.”
Earl took a glass for himself and raised it slightly. “I’ll let y’all enjoy your refreshments. I believe Junior and I have a golf game to get to.” He dropped a kiss on June’s head. “Bye, darlin’. Zellie, you enjoy that lemonade. Ms. Pearlie’s is the best around.”
“Yes, sir,” I promised, “it’s delicious.”
And it was. I’d never tasted any lemonade like it—the perfect blend of tart and sweet and some other underlying taste that I couldn’t quite place. Mint, maybe? Or maybe it just tasted better because I actually mattered to the people here.
“Now,” Pearlie said, handing me a plate with sandwiches already selected, “tell us all about your visit with Ms. Dottie.”