Flowers, Food, and Felonies at the New Year's Jubilee: A Flower Shop Mystery Novella (The Flower Shop Mystery Series Book 4) by Annie Adams

Author:Annie Adams [Adams, Annie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2016-05-11T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIVE

The phone call to my parents asking them if their trash had been picked up wasn’t awkward at all. Until they asked why I wanted to know. The next thing that happened wasn’t exactly a Christmas miracle, but it was close. My dear dad volunteered to take a look for me.

Sadly, he didn’t find anything. He also looked all around the house and opened the pipes under the bathroom and kitchen sink with no luck. I was ready to admit defeat, but I had enough distractions coming up with the weddings and the Jubilee, and with Alex’s work schedule, that I could put off talking to him about it until after New Year’s Eve.

Distractions were good. Not having to think about how I lost something so precious was good for the moment. I wasn’t proud to say it, but I was all about denial.

My mother was being very tight-lipped about her contest entry. I thought by now she would’ve had me running to the grocery store picking up an extra item or two, just in case she didn’t get her recipe right the first time. Maybe she’d enlisted my older sister to help her, which was perfectly fine with me.

My mother hadn’t called me to help her with her contest entry for the Jubilee, but that didn’t stop her from calling me at work and asking me to do favors for her cohorts. And really, it was only fair. She would usually enlist my father to run around for her, but since he had done the dumpster diving for me, it was the least I could do to go and pick up clothing donations from Sherry Auerbach.

“Hey, Boss, now that Daphne’s here, I was thinking of grabbing a bite at Skinny’s.”

“Didn’t Elma ban you from eating there, K.C.?” Daphne asked.

“I really don’t care if she did. I want a scone with honey butter and I’m going to have one.” She walked to the back design room with her nose in the air.

Daphne looked at me, her brows knitted together. “Quincy, maybe you better go with her. I don’t want her to get all of us banned just because she works here. You know how Elma is.”

I did know. Elma was the big-boned waitress at her father’s café. Her father was nicknamed Skinny and that’s what he’d named his eatery. The scones were really deep fried yeast dough and not English tea scones. Nobody knows why we call them scones in Utah, and frankly, none of us really care. A scone to us is piece of heaven that you slather with honey butter and eat too much of. Elma was cantankerous, opinionated and plain old grouchy. She was the gatekeeper between the people and their scones. And she loved every minute of that job.

It would come as a surprise to absolutely no one that K.C. didn’t take too kindly to being told she couldn’t have or do something. And no one would be surprised to learn that Elma was up for the challenge when it came to K.

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