Checked Out, page 7
“No. And thank you.”
“See you at the Market tomorrow perhaps?”
“Perhaps.” It was such an effort to raise her voice. She was so tired she wasn’t sure she would need a pain pill to stay asleep. She decided to skip it, slid between the sheets, and scarcely heard the front door closing.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE JEEP’S HEATER HADN’T even begun to blow anything like warm air when Lisette parked in the library lot the next morning. She looped her thick flannel scarf around her neck and tucked the ends into the open collar of her coat. Her wallet secure deep in one pocket, she scrabbled behind her to get the basket she always brought to the Holiday Market. It was the same basket her mother had used, wide but not too deep.
Red-and-green-striped tents over white-draped folding tables were mostly set up as she crossed the Village Green in search of the hot chocolate stand, which was always the first to open. There was already a line, which was terrific to see after the past lean years. There was still plenty of snow, and the ground was muddy, but it looked like it wasn’t keeping anyone away. Based on the library’s parking lot already, it was going to be a busy day, which was good for everybody. She ought to have warned Peri that it was better to be early.
She forced herself not to look around for the woman. It had been hard to get to sleep last night as she replayed parts of their conversation. While she’d cooked they’d talked about favorite foods and places where they originated. Peri had truly traveled extensively. Her voice had held a breathless admiration for Paris and Amsterdam, Gibraltar and Mumbai.
Other circumstances, another time, and Lisette would have gone out of her way to run into Peri again. It wasn’t an entirely welcome impulse. She was used to living alone, and her life ran like a perfectly balanced clock, most of the time. Sansa said she was too picky, but she liked her life exactly as it was, and it would take someone very special to make her want to change a thing.
Peri Garritsen, she told herself firmly, was not someone very special. Not in the least.
Plus, she was part of the system that had already stolen precious minutes, hours, and days she might have spent with her mother in her final illness.
And Peri was just passing through. Had a faraway job to go back to. She probably couldn’t wait to get back to the sophistication of France and glamour of India and Spain. Charming as Lisette knew Norcester to be, how could it compare to Paris?
She glanced around at the booths. A local artist adjusted a watercolor so it hung level in the display. The baker next to that gently stacked golden loaves of brioche. A teenager perched on a ladder, with a woman likely their mother holding tight to a pant leg, carefully attached the banner for North Sky Pies across the face of the tent.
Was Paris as full of people who were determined to make their tiny corner of the world more beautiful or tastier? In fairness, probably, she told herself. People are people. So Norcester wasn’t a haven for performing arts or a repository of timeless works of art. It was only a half-hour drive to New Haven’s playhouses and orchestras. The art gallery at Yale had a new installation several times a year. No, it wasn’t Paris, but was anywhere Paris except Paris?
Annoyed that she was wasting time thinking about anything but her holiday plans, she realized she’d taken root in the middle of a nexus that connected several temporary aisles. Her cup of hot chocolate was getting cold. A half swallow warmed her lips and nose — oh so good.
It was the holidays. Her favorite time of year. Christmas and Solstice and Kwanzaa and Hanukkah, and there wasn’t one she didn’t love to see celebrated in the brightly colored decorations the vendors had added to their tables.
There was no reason to be thinking about anything else.
She made a rapid circuit of every aisle, scooping up the treasures she got every year before they were all gone. Her basket was quickly heavy and full, and she made her first trip to the car. Without looking for any particular face in the growing crowd, she returned in full hunt mode for contributions to potlucks and any delicious delicacies that would make the bleak, chilly weeks of January and February more bearable.
The tables of handmade ornaments were hard to pass up, though this year’s tree already groaned from her collection. She lingered over a delicate stained-glass candle, its flame in fine slivers of orange and yellow. She had nothing like it and decided it could come home with her. She’d find a spot for it somewhere.
She scanned the growing crowd to get a sense of how good the turnout was, not because she was looking for anyone. The aroma of roasting chestnuts — a mix of almost burnt caramel and hot salt — was quintessentially a holiday scent, and she wondered if anyone made candles that smelled like that.
Focus, Lisette. She had much to shop for and couldn’t afford to let the day get away from her.
She took one last very casual look around before heading toward the bakery stall from Derby and their lemon poppyseed cake. She wasn’t bothered if Peri Garritsen decided the Holiday Market was too small town. Her loss.
PART THREE
‘Tis the Season
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE FRIZELLS HAD A vastly comfortable guest bed, and Peri didn’t want to get out of it.
She’d slept hard most of the night and, for the moment at least, actually felt something akin to refreshed.
Of course, she hadn’t moved yet. Slowly, flexing muscles and joints starting at her toes and working her way up her body, she took stock of what hurt and what didn’t. Left knee was mostly healed. Left hip was cranky. Her ribs weren’t aching at present, which meant she could feel the low-level internal bruising that was taking forever to go away. Wrists, elbows — good.
“At least it isn’t pain that’s making me get up.” This morning it was her bladder, just like the old days, before…
No, she told her reflection as she brushed her teeth. You’re in a good place this fine morning, and there’s no point ruining it by remembering that day.
Head cleared by an excellent cup of coffee, she found a bagel in the freezer and set about toasting it. The events of the previous night floated into her memory. Lisette, filling the kitchen with wonderful aromas. Lisette, easing an arm around her to help Peri to the nearest chair. Lisette, her eyes on fire as she passionately defended her library against book banning. Lisette, her quiet voice asking if there was anything Peri needed.
Becoming obsessed with a local is a bad idea.
But is it? Really?
She’s seen me at my worst, and that’s not how… She let the thought stutter out, unwilling to envision how she might have preferred to have met Lisette, with no looming assignment from her job.
After a blissfully hot shower, she was forced to confront the reality of her wardrobe. If she was going to go to the Holiday Market, her sweats would have to do. Her work suit had already been worn twice and slept in once. More than two pair of boxers and socks would be helpful too.
A trip to the nearest clothing store was unavoidable. She’d shop the Holiday Market first, then at a clothing store with whatever was left of her energy.
That Lisette seemed likely to be at the Market early had nothing to do with her priorities.
A scant hour later, she blew some of the foam on top of her hot chocolate aside before sipping. Wow. Thick, rich, dark chocolate rolled over her tongue and warmed the entire journey to her stomach. It was more like a liquid ganache than a beverage. The medicos in her life would be thrilled if she put on a few pounds, and this was certainly one way to do it.
A tingle along her neck, like a sixth sense, made her turn her head just to the left.
::Everything is okay now.::
Peri stretched her neck to get rid of an odd ringing in her ears. For a moment it felt like her brain had an echo, on the inside. It’s just the chocolate talking. That sense of wellbeing, a floating lightness in parts of her still bruised and battered, had nothing to do with following Lisette’s progress down the nearest aisle. She went from one table to the next, exclaiming over finds and drawing pleased greetings and smiles as she pored over the wares. As Peri watched, she added jars of jam and several wrapped cakes to the woven white basket she carried.
The basket was adorned with an opulent red velvet bow that matched the pin on the front of her thigh-length forest-green coat. A knit cap in the same bright red covered her reddish-brown curls and was pulled down to protect the tops of her ears from the wind chill. It was hard to be sure from this distance, but Peri was willing to bet those were gold snowflakes dangling from her ears and tangling in her hair.
By comparison, Peri definitely felt scruffy and dull. She didn’t own any holiday apparel, not even a plain red or green scarf. The scarf she’d brought from Philly was the same unremarkable blue as her suit and winter coat.
She ought to say hello, but it suddenly felt too awkward.
“Are you stalking my homegirl?”
The cup of hot chocolate almost spilled as Peri jumped in response to the voice in her ear. “Sheriff Kakaria, you’re out of uniform.”
“Call me Sansa when I’m out of uniform, please. It’s my day off, finally. You’re out of uniform too.”
“It’s what was clean.”
“Did Lisette bring by your book?”
“She did, thank you.” Peri took note of the stylish turquoise peacoat and coppery earrings that gleamed against the sheriff’s dark, unbraided hair. The sharp gaze hadn’t changed, though, so she answered the initial question. “I am not stalking your homegirl. I was going to ask for some pointers. You told me about the pasties and the not-yet-alcoholic fruit juice, but I’m sure there are other items not to be missed.”
The intense law enforcement stare eased as Sansa glanced behind Peri. “She can’t decide which cheese. That girl loves her cheese.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Not at all. It’s one of the reasons we stay friends. Okay, I’ve got to find cranberry monkey bread. You haven’t by chance seen the ‘Fruitcakes Forever’ stall have you?”
“No, and I think I’d remember the name.”
“Catch you later.” With that she took off in the opposite direction from where Lisette was picking up one, then another package of cheese, only to put it down and pick up the first.
::You’re over here and she’s over there.::
Since when had she taken to telling herself the obvious? However, it was ridiculous that she still hadn’t said hello. When Lisette went back to her second choice, then again put it down in favor of the first, Peri summoned her courage and closed the gap between them.
“Why don’t you get both?”
Lisette gasped and looked up.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I was lost in the possibilities of the Land of Cheese. Truly, you should not enable my obsession. All nutrition knowledge to the contrary, I am capable of calling cheese, sourdough bread, more cheese, and an apricot the perfect dinner.”
“Sounds like a complete meal to me. Well, if you added olives.”
Lisette’s gaze traveled to something beyond Peri, and she turned her head to see jars of local-cured olives in herbal brines.
Her voice breathy, Lisette admitted, “Olives, yes, you’re right. I need olives.”
::If she sounds like that over olives…::
Peri shook off the thought. “What’s the dilemma?”
“Every year I treat myself to Vermont blue cheese from this dairy. The blue veins are salty and have these little crisp bits that I can’t even describe. To die for. But this…” She held up the second package, her eyes wide. “This one is a flight of cheese, all vacuum sealed separately so it’ll last months and months. Brie, Manchego, seven-year Gouda, Gorgonzola, and an applewood-smoked Emmentaler.”
“So one night you could have cheese on crackers, and another a very small fondue.”
Lisette feigned a swoon. “You understand. How am I supposed to choose?”
“That’s a toughie. As I said, I’d get both. Are you planning a party?”
Lisette frowned at Peri as if that was a silly question. “Multiple. There’s a staff party potluck, but I can’t feed my staff cheese from here and not take out a loan. Sansa’s got a party too, and we usually trek together to the chichi market in New Haven.” She sighed.
“So the flight of cheese would be just for you?” She does like her cheese, Peri thought, and she tucked that knowledge away in case it proved useful in the future.
“Yes. It would be indulgent.”
“Why don’t you get the flight of cheese and skimp on the wine?”
“Well, when it’s Give Me the Cheese night in February, the quality of the wine won’t be on my mind. There are affordable, drinkable table wines.”
Seriously, Peri acknowledged, “Yes there are.”
“You are an enabler. But I like that strategy.” She waved a hand at a skinny kid who looked as if he’d been pressed into helping out and truly wished to be anywhere else in the world. “I’ll take both.”
Peri stopped herself just in time from saying, “Attagirl!”
They turned toward the table of olives in the next stall. Lisette quickly chose a large jar of pitted mixed green.
“I know it’s a lot of olives,” she said.
“I’m not the olive police.”
At that Lisette giggled and shot her a side-eye glance. “We do not go half measures at the holidays around here.”
“I’ve been getting that impression. I was told to look for ‘Not Yet Fermented Juice.’ Something like that.”
“You mean ‘It’s Still Juice.’” Lisette grinned. “That’ll be my last stop. Makes the basket heavy. What have you found so far?”
“I just got here.” She lifted the hot chocolate and took another sip. “This was a priority. I was deciding what to do first when Sansa stopped for a chat.”
Lisette glanced from side to side. “She’s here earlier than I thought she’d be. Must have a list.”
“She said something about cranberry monkey bread and took off.”
“One of the big differences between us is that I shop. Sansa buys. She’s very efficient.” Lisette drifted to the adjacent stall and eyed star-patterned knit potholders, wildly colorful place mats, and tea cozies in the squat forms of all breeds of dogs. “Do you have family to buy gifts for?”
“My sister and nephew — Jan and David — live in Amsterdam.”
“So you’d want something they couldn’t find there.” Her eyes narrowed and Peri could see the Helpful Librarian Hat falling into place.
“I was hoping something jumped out at me.”
“It could happen.”
“I do always send candy, whenever I think of it. David loves it, my sister doesn’t. Or so I thought until he told me in a thank-you note that she takes some.” Peri wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to explain further, but she did. “Candy for birthdays and the holidays have appeared more frequently in their lives than I have over the past decade.”
They’d been slowly walking along the aisle, and Lisette paused to touch a thin wool-and-silk scarf in blended shades of blue and green. “Maybe it’s time to change that?”
“Maybe.” Peri tore her gaze away from following Lisette’s fingertip as she clearly appreciated the smooth, soft texture.
“Well, if it’s candy you’re after, I know just the thing. I’ll show you.”
“After you get that scarf, if you want it. I can wait.”
Lisette bit her lower lip. “I think this scarf is a flight of cheese I already bought. It’s lovely though. Look what you made me miss out on.”
“All I did was make a suggest—”
Lisette waved a hand in Peri’s face. “All your fault.”
“My fault. Okay.”
Lisette’s smile broadened and Peri felt warm in places hot chocolate didn’t reach. Where on earth had she found the energy to flirt?
::If you call that flirting.::
Lisette pointed out the pasty stand as they passed it. “They’ll be open in an hour. You don’t want to miss them hot out of the oven for lunch. Get some to take home. I don’t know why handheld savory pies aren’t in every drive-thru.”
“They’re ubiquitous almost everywhere else. Empanadas, samosas, bao. All street food.”
“It’s nice to know our little town has something to compare to the wonders of faraway places.”
Lisette sounded almost annoyed. Had she been pompous?
::Yes, you were pompous.::
She gently stretched her neck again to clear the bothersome ringing in her ears. “The hot chocolate certainly compares to anything I’ve had anywhere else.”
Lisette led them nearly all the way across the Village Green toward the motel and diner. “How long were you stationed abroad?”
“Most of my career. Jan and I were in Atlanta through most of grade school, then we were all over the world. My mother was in the diplomatic corps — the civil service side, not the presidential appointment side. I’ve been with Homeland Security about fifteen years.”
“That’s about how long I’ve been a librarian.” She pointed to a honey and beeswax stall as they passed. “Ron and Sheri are master beekeepers. And this is McMahon’s Candies.”
They stopped in front of a dazzling array of handmade dark chocolate truffles, brightly colored hard candies, and hand-twisted candy canes in green, red, and white.
“This will definitely do,” Peri said.
“How old is your nephew?”
“I did the math last night, and it’s shocking. Possibly thirteen. How sour are those sours?”
“Eye watering. The lime makes my nose run.” She put a hand to her throat. “They’re so sour they hurt.”
“That’s going to make me popular. Sold.” She couldn’t stop herself from adding, “Thank you. You’ve answered all my sour candy questions today.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“YOU WERE TROUBLE IN school, weren’t you?” Lisette favored Peri with one of her best schoolmarm glares, but it seemed to bounce right off those darned mirrored sunglasses.
