“What did he do? Freak out because Richie asked for an autograph?”
Paisley shook her head. “I have no idea, but it seemed like something bigger than that. I mean, Richie was . . . well, for a minute I thought he might deck Laurence.”
“You’re talking about our Richie? From the Silver River Inn?”
“Yep.”
“Did you hear what they were arguing about?”
“No, I was too far away. And inside.” Paisley pushed the heart away and brushed bits of lacy edging into her hand. “But I do know that Richie has been making a pest of himself, hanging around the theater and whatnot. He’s been underfoot almost constantly since he found out Laurence was coming to town. Vonetta doesn’t need that on top of everything else she’s dealing with.”
I doubted it was that bad. Richie had a business to run, after all, and I couldn’t imagine Dylan just taking on everything that needed to be done without a complaint. “I’m sure the novelty of having a celebrity around will wear off in a few days and Richie will calm down again,” I said.
Paisley glanced around for someplace to throw away the garbage, gave up, and put the lacy bits on her napkin. “That’s the trouble, Abby. I’m afraid that might be too long to wait.”
Chapter 8
Paisley was starting to freak me out a little with her predictions of doom and gloom. “What do you mean, that might be too long to wait? What do you think will happen?”
“I don’t know! I only know that something’s wrong, and I’m worried.”
“You know how emotional those creative types can be.”
“Okay, then, how do you explain this? Last night, after they thought everyone was gone, I heard Serena and Vonetta arguing.”
“They’re family. Families argue.”
“Not like this they don’t,” Paisley insisted. “It was late. Everyone else was gone. I should have been gone, too, but I forgot my scarf and had to go back in to get it. They had no idea I was there.”
I didn’t want to ask, but I couldn’t help myself. “What did you hear?”
“I heard Vonetta telling Serena that she didn’t know if she could ever forgive her. Does that sound normal to you?”
She had me there. “Are you sure she was talking to Serena?”
“I’m positive,” Paisley said with a stiff bob of her head. “I’m telling you, Abby, something’s wrong.”
Let me be perfectly clear about this: I’d hate for someone to dig into my personal life and listen in to my arguments with family members. I certainly didn’t want to disrespect Vonetta by sticking my nose in where it didn’t belong. But like I said, curiosity has always been my weakness. “What else did you hear?”
“Serena begged Vonetta not to make trouble, but Vonetta said it was far too late for that. See what I mean? That doesn’t sound like Vonetta at all.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I rolled my head on my neck, trying to work out the kinks that had suddenly appeared.
“Will you do me a favor?” Paisley asked.
“If I can.”
“Just keep your eyes and ears open. If you hear or see anything I should know about, tell me?”
I ignored a rush of guilt and nodded. “Okay, sure.”
“Thank you. I knew I could count on you.” Paisley reached across the table and squeezed my hand, looking as grateful as if I’d just agreed to let her cut and style my hair.
Which wasn’t going to happen—but then, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to hear anything that Paisley needed to know, either. At least not until pigs flew over Paradise—and maybe not even then.
I managed to push Vonetta and the play to the back of my mind for the rest of that day. I had work to do, customers to serve, candy to make. Orders kept stacking up, and I didn’t have the luxury of giving in to distractions.
That’s what I kept telling myself, anyway. I took out my frustrations by lining a dozen cookie sheets with foil, then crushing six boxes of graham crackers the old-fashioned way. A food processor might be quicker, but
Paisley shook her head. “I have no idea, but it seemed like something bigger than that. I mean, Richie was . . . well, for a minute I thought he might deck Laurence.”
“You’re talking about our Richie? From the Silver River Inn?”
“Yep.”
“Did you hear what they were arguing about?”
“No, I was too far away. And inside.” Paisley pushed the heart away and brushed bits of lacy edging into her hand. “But I do know that Richie has been making a pest of himself, hanging around the theater and whatnot. He’s been underfoot almost constantly since he found out Laurence was coming to town. Vonetta doesn’t need that on top of everything else she’s dealing with.”
I doubted it was that bad. Richie had a business to run, after all, and I couldn’t imagine Dylan just taking on everything that needed to be done without a complaint. “I’m sure the novelty of having a celebrity around will wear off in a few days and Richie will calm down again,” I said.
Paisley glanced around for someplace to throw away the garbage, gave up, and put the lacy bits on her napkin. “That’s the trouble, Abby. I’m afraid that might be too long to wait.”
Chapter 8
Paisley was starting to freak me out a little with her predictions of doom and gloom. “What do you mean, that might be too long to wait? What do you think will happen?”
“I don’t know! I only know that something’s wrong, and I’m worried.”
“You know how emotional those creative types can be.”
“Okay, then, how do you explain this? Last night, after they thought everyone was gone, I heard Serena and Vonetta arguing.”
“They’re family. Families argue.”
“Not like this they don’t,” Paisley insisted. “It was late. Everyone else was gone. I should have been gone, too, but I forgot my scarf and had to go back in to get it. They had no idea I was there.”
I didn’t want to ask, but I couldn’t help myself. “What did you hear?”
“I heard Vonetta telling Serena that she didn’t know if she could ever forgive her. Does that sound normal to you?”
She had me there. “Are you sure she was talking to Serena?”
“I’m positive,” Paisley said with a stiff bob of her head. “I’m telling you, Abby, something’s wrong.”
Let me be perfectly clear about this: I’d hate for someone to dig into my personal life and listen in to my arguments with family members. I certainly didn’t want to disrespect Vonetta by sticking my nose in where it didn’t belong. But like I said, curiosity has always been my weakness. “What else did you hear?”
“Serena begged Vonetta not to make trouble, but Vonetta said it was far too late for that. See what I mean? That doesn’t sound like Vonetta at all.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I rolled my head on my neck, trying to work out the kinks that had suddenly appeared.
“Will you do me a favor?” Paisley asked.
“If I can.”
“Just keep your eyes and ears open. If you hear or see anything I should know about, tell me?”
I ignored a rush of guilt and nodded. “Okay, sure.”
“Thank you. I knew I could count on you.” Paisley reached across the table and squeezed my hand, looking as grateful as if I’d just agreed to let her cut and style my hair.
Which wasn’t going to happen—but then, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to hear anything that Paisley needed to know, either. At least not until pigs flew over Paradise—and maybe not even then.
I managed to push Vonetta and the play to the back of my mind for the rest of that day. I had work to do, customers to serve, candy to make. Orders kept stacking up, and I didn’t have the luxury of giving in to distractions.
That’s what I kept telling myself, anyway. I took out my frustrations by lining a dozen cookie sheets with foil, then crushing six boxes of graham crackers the old-fashioned way. A food processor might be quicker, but
Similar Books
