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Okay. So she may have been able to squeeze out a smile from Libby’s royally screwed soul.
Yeah. She was totally screwed.
Maybe we can try this whole denial thing again?
***
It turns out trying to distract herself made Libby scarily productive. By Wednesday, she was up to date on a week’s worth of work. Who knew a little tonsil tennis could be so motivational?
With a whole work-free afternoon ahead of her, she decided to take the time to explore her new hometown. Other than a couple of visits to Farm n’ Fresh and Molly’s diner, Libby hadn’t spent much time in the town center. But that was about to change. Today was the day she ventured out. She was even considering talking to actual people.
Living life on the edge, as always, Libby.
Letting the heat soak into her skin, she continued down the uneven terracotta sidewalk. One thing was for sure, the population of Woodvalley Pines certainly had a thing for antiques. She’d counted at least three stores now, each of them displaying some very questionable items. She was no expert by any means, but she was pretty sure a cassette player was definitely not an antique. Not yet anyway.
The one place that did look awfully inviting was a cotton candy-painted bakery. Libby’s eyes went straight to the pink neon sign. It was hanging above a window display of mouth-watering cupcakes and pastries. Fairy Baked looked like her kind of shop. And that smell. The sugary sweet, yeasty aroma wrapped around her like a warm hug.
Following her nose through the double doors, she was greeted with an equally warm smile.
“Well hello, sugar, welcome to Fairy Baked! Feel free to take a look around and just give me a shout if you need anything.” The petite redhead flashed her a toothy grin and a wink before going back to filling the display cases with fresh cakes.
Libby didn’t need time. As soon as she saw the words “lemon biscuit cupcake”, she was sold. She would not last another minute on this earth without trying this lemony, buttery, biscuity concoction.
“Can I have one of these, please?” Her fingers hovered over the glass, pointing straight at her chosen cake.
“Of course you can, sweetie.” More smiles were exchanged as the woman began boxing up the cake. “You’re new in town, right? You just visiting or ...?”
Here we go. Be nice. This will count as your social interaction for the day. Or week.
“Yep, very new. Um, well, the plan is to stick around for a while. My aunt Cynthia left me her place, it’s just a few miles from here.” Open. Friendly. She totally nailed it.
“Cynthia was your aunt? Oh my, I had no idea.”
“You knew her?”
“Knew her? Damn girl, without Cynthia, Fairy Baked might not even be standing here today.” Libby wasn’t expecting that. She had so many questions. But she didn’t have a chance to ask them because the sparky woman before her had already started launching into her story.
“See. It took a long time for the business to start making money, and she helped me at a time when I was really struggling. She used to tell me she just had a thing for my strawberry shortcake, but I knew no one could possibly eat that much of it without going into hyperglycaemic shock!” Libby found herself grinning at the thought of her aunt bulk buying cake. “Anyway, I found out later on that she’d been giving it away, along with my business cards.”
That sounded just like her aunt. Going out of her way to help anyone and everyone.
When Libby didn’t reply, the woman continued. “I was so sorry to hear she passed. I was looking out for her service, to say goodbye, but I didn’t hear about one. Don’t tell me I missed it?”
“Oh, no. No. You didn’t miss it,” Libby assured the woman. “Cynthia actually stipulated in her will she didn’t want any sort of service. I was her only living family so ... she, uh, she was cremated, and she asked for her ashes to be spread in the valley.”
The redhead’s astute sapphire eyes took her in for a moment, clearly unsure whether or not to ask the question or questions she’d since formulated. Why had she said that? Only living family. Ashes spread in the valley. Libby never usually offered up personal information to strangers.
Except for Zach.
Maybe Zach had broken her.
I have a few ideas as to how he can make it up to me.
Stupid dirty mind.
“I’m Rachel.” That was not the reply she was expecting.
“Libby.” Her shoulders loosened as she began to relax. “Nice to meet you, Rachel.”
