LimeLight by Melody Carlson

Author:Melody Carlson [Carlson, Melody]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-60142-256-9
Publisher: The Doubleday Religious Publishing Group
Published: 2009-11-07T20:00:00+00:00

I am feeling rather pleased with myself as I walk toward home. The smart woman at the little market talked me into buying a handy canvas grocery bag with straps that can be looped over one’s shoulder. I realize that carrying even this fairly light load isn’t good for my posture, but every couple of blocks I switch it to the other side.

Being in a French state of mind as I shopped, I bought a small loaf of whole grain bread, a bit of nice sharp cheddar, two Fuji apples, a half pound of smoked turkey, and some cream for my coffee. And I am feeling quite smart as I carry my bounty home.

I am just turning up my walk when, once again, Bea appears out of nowhere, coming from behind, calling my name, and nearly causing me to jump. Honestly, this woman must be lurking around the corner just waiting to catch me.

“Why do you do that?” I ask her.

“Do what?”

“Sneak up on people.”

“I was just putting away my hoses.”

“What?”

“You know, for winter, so they won’t freeze.”

I just shrug and continue up my walk.

“You really need to get those leaves raked,” she says.

“Yes, I know.”

“Where’s that boyfriend of yours? Maybe he can do it.”

I turn and glare at her. “Michael has left.”

She looks curious. “Did you break up?”

“No. He simply returned to Hawaii.”

She brightens. “He lives in Hawaii?”

“Yes, with his other lover…Richard.”

She frowns. “He’s bisexual?”

“No. He’s gay.”

“So, why was he with you?”

I sigh. “You are the nosiest person I have ever met.”

She nods. “Yes. Everyone tells me that. But sometimes you learn things by being nosy.”

“I can only imagine.” I’m on my porch now, ready to make a fast break and get into the house.

“In fact, I know something about your family, Claudette.”

I feign a yawn. “I’m sure you know all kinds of things.”

“Something no one else knows.”

“Really. I don’t think I care to hear about it, thank you anyway.”

Bea steps forward, cupping her hand around her mouth as if she thinks someone else might possibly be listening, which is insane since there is no one else within fifty feet of us. “It involves a frying pan.”

I nod, rolling my eyes. “Yes,” I tell her as I unlock my door. “Does it involve bacon and eggs as well?” Then I tell her a crisp “Good day,” go into my house, set down my bag, and lock and deadbolt the door.

That woman is really starting to annoy me. Not only that but she’s a little frightening too. And I don’t simply mean her wardrobe, which would get her mistaken for a bag lady if she were to be seen walking the streets in Beverly Hills. But her whole intrusive demeanor is unnerving. I would be wise to keep my distance.

It’s not until I’m unloading my few bits of groceries that her words come back to me. “It involves a frying pan.” Of course that sounds perfectly crazy. But it also reminds me of what Michael told me about finding a cast-iron skillet beneath my mother’s bed.

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