Memory of You (A Misty Cove Love Story)

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Authors: Dori Lavelle
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donated to the Misty Cove Homeless Shelter. Like every year, the setting was the church yard of Trinity Chapel.
    I used to come here with Gran every year. The day before, we would spend hours baking and storing our wares in the fridge, ready for sale.
    Today, I came empty handed, and both excited and apprehensive. If it weren’t for Erin practically dragging me out the door, I would not have come at all. I wasn’t in the mood for all the stares and gossip that would be following me around. Although, being here now, I was actually glad I came, drawn by the feeling of familiarity.
    As they stared and pointed, not so discreetly, I tightened my fists and flashed a fake smile. Through it all the familiar aromas of melted butter, sugar, and crusty bread comforted me.
    In an attempt to trick my emotions and give me another dose of confidence, I had worn my feel-good summer dress—a lemon yellow sheath number with piping on the waistline. Even though I had lost a lot of weight in the past months, it still fit like a second skin. After we got married, Milton had often made fleeting remarks targeted at my weight, which had brought down my self-esteem quite a bit. Before I met him, I had always felt comfortable with my curves. Bryce, on the other hand, had called my size just right: I was neither thin nor fat, the in-between kind of woman. Without Milton, I had the chance to fall in love with my body again.
    “What happened to Old Ray?” I asked Erin as we walked past a stall that always used to be occupied by Raymond, a bushy-haired, recluse of a man. Now a younger man with slicked-back hair sat there with a willowy woman on his lap.
    “Well,” Erin laughed. “That’s him. Old Raymond wasn’t so old after all. He shaved off his shaggy beard two years ago and immediately found himself a bride.”
    “Are you kidding?” I twisted my neck to stare at the man who was now kissing the woman on the side of the neck. “That’s him?”
    “Cleans up good, doesn’t he?”
    “He does.” I hurried off to another stall. “Ooh, Sally’s Tarts.” My favorites. I had always stocked up on those lemon tarts when I came here. My mouth was already melting as I approached the stall. But of course things had changed since then. The tarts still looked as delicious, but Sally was no longer the woman I had known. Like most other people in town, her attitude toward me had changed. No surprise there.
    As soon as I picked up a tart, her smile twisted into a frown and her clear blue eyes turned to ice.
    I ignored her and picked up a few more tarts and handed her the money. She did her best not to allow our hands to touch. She didn’t meet my eyes as she packed everything into a bag, only showing me the top of her head. If it hadn’t been for charity, she probably wouldn’t have sold them to me.
    As soon as I turned away I felt the dagger of her eyes stab me in the back and heard her whisper loudly. I had not even walked off and she was talking to the woman at the next stall about me.
    “What’s wrong with these people?” I said to Erin, hot anger flushed through my body.
    “Ignore them.” Erin reached for my arm again, but I moved out of her reach.
    I turned and walked back to Sally’s Stall. She stopped whispering immediately and pretended to be arranging her baked goods.
    “Hi, Sally.” I squared my shoulders. “I have one question.” I made sure to look at the other woman too, whose face had gone pale. I was talking to both of them. “Is there something you want to say to me?”
    Sally ignored me and continued moving her tarts around.
    “If there is, I’d prefer you to say it to my face.” I’d had enough of people gossiping about me as if I weren’t even near. “You people all think you’re better than others, don’t you? As if you don’t have skeletons in your own closets.” I was fired up now and I could feel something shifting in the air around me. Guitar music that had filled the air died.
    I had an audience. I was

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