A Warmth in Winter by Lori Copeland

Author:Lori Copeland
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2010-09-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

On Wednesday afternoon Vernie cupped the receiver and turned her back to Elezar. Lowering her voice, she whispered into the phone: “What do you mean, a dock strike?”

“A strike, lady.” The rep from Wagner’s Wholesalers sounded impatient. “Teamsters’ dispute. The men walked off the job late Monday afternoon.”

“What about my order?” She tightened her grip on the mouthpiece. “What about my cranberries and nutmeg?”

The man on the phone let out an audible sigh. “When did you place the order?”

“Faxed it in Saturday night. The eighth.”

“Saturday—let’s see. That would have sat in the fax till Monday, and—uh-oh.”

The last thing Vernie wanted to hear was an uh-oh. “What’s wrong?”

The man sighed again. “We’re doing all we can to keep business flowing, but I gotta tell you, lady, it don’t look good. You’ll have to wait your turn.”

Shaken, Vernie hung up. She didn’t have time to wait her turn. The island Christmas party was Saturday night and there wasn’t a dash of nutmeg on the island. Nor a single cranberry, so Babette wouldn’t be able to make her holiday salad. Vernie’s inattention would ruin everybody’s Christmas, and they wouldn’t be quick to forget.

Fumbling beneath the counter, she pulled out a plastic bottle of Coke and refilled her glass. This was awful. She’d go into Ogunquit and pay retail for supplies, but gale force winds were keeping them all island-bound. The ferry hadn’t run in two days, but perhaps that was a blessing in disguise. At least she hadn’t had to think up lame excuses about why her order had not been delivered.

Leaning down, she pulled out the slender bottle of vanilla syrup, then splashed a liberal shot into the icy Coke. At that moment Bea Coughlin pecked on the front window, startling Vernie. She looked up in time to see Bea frowning at the bottle, so Vernie shoved it under the counter and pasted on a smile.

Pressing her fingertips to the window, Beatrice yelled, “I’m going to ask Annie to bring sugar when she comes for the party this weekend. The bakery’s getting low.”

Vernie shook her head. “No need to do that—”

Wait a minute. What was she thinking? There was a need—a strong need. And Annie was the answer! She could e-mail Annie and have her bring nutmeg, cranberries, and sugar when she came this weekend. Surely the weather would let up enough for Captain Stroble to bring the ferry across by then. The weather channel was still calling for a nor’easter by Sunday or Monday, but Annie would have come and gone by that time.

Rushing to the door on a tide of relief, she jerked it open and smiled at Bea. “That’s a good idea, Beatrice. I’ve just heard that the wholesalers are on strike, and who knows when they’ll get that order to us? So I’ll e-mail Annie and ask her to pick up the things we need. Maybe she can get here by early Saturday afternoon and we’ll have plenty of time to prepare for the party that night.”

Bea slapped a mittened hand to her cheek.

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