Book Fair and Foul (Ashton Corners Book Club) (6 page)

An hour and a half later, Teensy walked back onstage. “I want to thank all our fascinating authors for agreeing to be here, and for being so loquacious. Don’t y’all think they’re so interesting you just want to read everything they’ve ever written?”

The audience started clapping and the authors beamed.

“Well, here’s your chance. There are tables set up by A Novel Plot over to my left, along the wall there, in case you hadn’t noticed. So shop your hearts out, ladies and gentlemen, and help to keep these writers writing and our wonderful local bookstore in business. The authors will be signing at various points in the afternoon at that other little table over there. Thank you, also, to our wonderful moderator and ever-efficient librarian, Isabel Fox. We have a small thank-you gift for you.” She pulled a brightly colored gift bag from the shopping bag she was holding and crooked her finger at Isabel. After embracing, Isabel returned to her chair with her bag.

“And now, as my daddy used to say, it’s chow time. The tables have been set up and the lovely ladies of St. John’s Evangelical Church have prepared a delicious array of foods, so y’all know it’s mouthwatering good. It’s all set out buffet-style on the tables at the back of the hall, next to the kitchen. We’ll reconvene right back here for the author readings in two hours. Y’all enjoy.”

Although the authors had been asked to mingle with the audience and sit one to a table during the meal, Lizzie noticed that Caroline and Lorelie had chosen the same table, different sides, different ends. Lizzie shook her head, taking an empty seat at a table next to the counter, and after some small talk, quickly ate her food.

“This is certainly delicious,” said a pleasant-looking woman sitting across from Lizzie, having just finished her dessert, a piece of homemade pie. “Of course, St. John’s ladies are known for their cooking.”

The woman next to her, possibly a few years older and certainly a few pounds heavier, huffed a bit and said, “I don’t know. I think my own caramel apple pie is much tastier. I tend to add a touch of bourbon, you know. Don’t raise your eyebrows at me, Dora Wilkins. This is good. Mine is better. Case closed.”

Lizzie took a drink of her coffee in order to hide a smile. Eunice Strange and her neighbor, Dora, had been bossing each other around for as long as Lizzie could remember. They seemed to thrive on it and everyone who knew them enjoyed the banter. The minute Lizzie tasted the pie, all thoughts of conflict flew out of her mind. She spent the remainder of the lunch break enjoying her food and chatting with the readers around her.

Teensy summoned everyone back at the appointed time. A few stragglers who had gone for a walk outside for some fresh air tiptoed to their seats as Teensy explained the format for the readings. Each author would have fifteen minutes, followed by a ten-minute question period. It would be done alphabetically; therefore, Gigi Briggs would lead off, followed by Caroline Cummings. A half-hour tea break would follow and then Lorelie Oliver and A.J. Pruitt would round off the afternoon.

Lizzie noticed Ashley enter the room just as they were getting started. She’d thought it odd that the publicist hadn’t been around to hear her authors onstage, but at the same time, she’d been thankful. Now, Lizzie focused quickly on the stage before Ashley could notice her.

A hush fell over the audience as Teensy introduced Gigi once again. She stood and removed the light overcoat she’d been wearing. Lizzie had thought it odd since the outdoors temperature hovered in the mid-seventies, but she realized its purpose now. The audience gasped as Gigi moved over to the podium wearing what was obviously a ringmaster’s outfit. The black minidress with black tights and a dark red jacket with black fringed shoulders and purple cuffs, gold trim and polished gold buttons made it look like she’d stepped right out of one of her books. The top hat and tall boots added a nice touch. In spite of the bold getup, Lizzie thought she looked a bit hesitant.

“Before I begin my reading, I’d like to assure you, this isn’t my typical attire.” Everyone laughed. “I think it helps if the author doing a reading feels in character, wouldn’t you agree? So, my heroine is an aerialist who hires on with various visiting circuses and the like. She’s also available to perform at birthday parties, if that’s of interest to anyone here.” Another laugh. Lizzie looked around the room. Gigi certainly knew how to entertain.

Gigi cleared her throat, signaling a change in demeanor, and gave a brief overview of her book,
High-Wire Hijinks
, and then started reading from the first chapter. She had chosen to skip throughout the first half of the book, weaving together an outline of the plot. By the end of her fifteen minutes, all eyes were on her as she asked for questions from the floor.

Teensy cut off the questions at the ten-minute mark, assuring everyone there would be plenty of time after the readings to talk personally to the authors. Next up was Caroline Cummings. She repeated the intro Isabel had given, expanding a bit on the awards she’d won, and then, when Teensy started clearing her throat, began to read from her latest novel,
Catered to Death
. Lizzie hadn’t heard Caroline do a reading before and was impressed by the feeling she put into it.

By the time the question period had ended, Teensy announced that since everyone was now primed for food, having heard about recipes and murder for the past while, tea and sweets had been set up on the tables. The audience laughed and applauded.

“And I’d like to thank so much the Bethany Church ladies for putting out such a fine spread. I have my eye on a plate of sugar cookies. I can see it right from here. I can. I have superpowers when it comes to cookies of any persuasion. Now, enjoy. We’ll regroup in thirty minutes to hear from A.J. Pruitt and Lorelie Oliver.”

The audience happily followed Teensy’s orders. They chose seats and kept up the chatter while passing the serving plates between themselves.

Lizzie mingled with everyone while at the same time keeping an eye on the plates of sweets at each table, ready to replenish as needed. She heard snippets of conversation around her.

“I think that Caroline Cummings is just so sweet and ever so clever with words,” one elderly woman was saying to her companion.

A younger woman, closer to Lizzie’s age, snorted and said under her breath, “Looks can be deceiving.”

Lizzie was pleased to see that Gigi Briggs circulated from table to table, stopping to have a cookie at one, a tart at another, all the time carrying her teacup and a handful of bookmarks that she gave out as she chattered away.

When Teensy called for everyone’s attention, the plates that were once piled high with treats were almost bare. Lizzie was tempted to help clear the tables but moved out of the way as the Baptist ladies took over.

As Lizzie slid into her seat next to Sally-Jo in the back row, Lorelie Oliver jumped right into her reading. She’d chosen to save her comments for the end, and when she closed the book, she explained how she’d come to write the Southern Fashionista series.

“My dear mama was a seamstress, as were many of the young ladies of her position in the mid–nineteen hundreds. She instilled in me a love of beautiful clothing.” She paused to casually glance down at the bronze two-piece silky outfit she wore. “I thought it only fitting that I write about something I love and know so well.”

Sally-Jo leaned over and whispered, “Oops, great outfit but her ego is showing.” Lizzie nudged her with her elbow and bit back her own smile.

A.J. turned out to be quite the charmer, having both young and old hanging on to his every word. He had the endearing habit of pushing back a large patch of hair that kept falling forward each time he bent his head to read from his book. Lizzie felt sure he would have the longest lineup for autographs at the end of the afternoon.

The next hour and a half went quickly, and after the final question period, Teensy wrapped up the event with a thank-you to the authors and the readers who had supported this first book fair. Then, with much ado, Teensy made the draw for the gift basket. While the excited winner went up to the front to collect her prize, some of the audience left, although many headed to the bookselling tables to make final purchases and then move over to where the four authors had taken their seats, pens in hand.

Lizzie helped Sally-Jo clear the registration table and then walked over to talk to Isabel Fox. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but you did a really fine job as moderator.”

“Thank you, Lizzie. It seemed like a challenge at times. I know everything was peaches and cream on the surface, but I was sensing some really strained vibes onstage, between Caroline Cummings and Lorelie Oliver.”

“Really? Like what? Any ideas?”

“Oh, I’ll bet it’s just good old-fashioned rivalry. Or jealousy. They’re both powerful personalities, they write in the same genre and are sure to go head-to-head with some of the awards.”

“Hmm. I’ve seen snatches of what that can lead to. I don’t think I’d like to be caught in between if something erupts,” Lizzie admitted.

“Pity the poor publicity gal, Ashley,” Isabel suggested. “She’s got to keep them both happy.”

Lizzie didn’t want to get into a discussion about Ashley. “Well, thanks again, Isabel. I hope you had fun.”

“Absolutely, and I’d happily do it again. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must run off and pick up some wine for tonight. See you soon.” She gave Lizzie a quick hug before leaving.

Lizzie moved over to the book table and started helping the girls pack away the remaining stock. She turned abruptly as Ashley walked over to talk to her.

“So, where’s your hunky guy today, Lizzie? Lovers’ spat?” Ashley laughed, the same old condescending laugh that Lizzie knew so well. “Don’t think I believe for a minute that line about being friends. I saw how you were looking at him. You’re still not any good at lying.”

Ashley took a break to wave at a couple of women close by who appeared to be very interested in what was being said.

“Now, I think Mark’s your beau and wouldn’t it just break your lil’ old Southern heart if he fell for someone more glamorous?”

Lizzie could feel her anger increasing. She took a deep breath, meaning to turn away and get back to packing books but Ashley grabbed her arm.

“I know just the type he would go for, too,” she taunted.

“All right, Ashley. If it’s the truth you want, yes, we are a couple and Mark would never fall for someone like you. He’s a cop and that means he can read people well enough to know your sweet exterior hides a venomous soul. Why don’t you just go back to New York and leave us all alone?” She tried staring down Ashley but didn’t get very far.

“Aw, Lizzie. Don’t you think a bit of tit-for-tat is fair play?” Ashley said with a menacing laugh, gripping Lizzie’s arm even tighter. “You do like to sound so righteous and all.”

“Don’t you think you’ve already done enough damage? You’ve spread lies about me. You’ve stolen every guy I was interested in back then. I’ve had enough of you. Just back off, or else.” Lizzie snatched her arm away, taking Ashley by surprise. She tottered a second before gaining her balance.

Lizzie looked around herself in horror as she realized how quiet it had gotten in the room and how loud her voice had grown.

Ashley’s smile was cruel. “Why, Lizzie, you never could control yourself, could you?”

You know what they say about misery loving company.

BEELINE TO TROUBLE
—HANNAH REED

L
izzie slipped out of bed the next morning, careful not to wake Mark. She had still been seething when she’d arrived home from the book fair the night before.

Mark had been waiting, a home-cooked meal of grilled chicken and grits ready to be served. He’d taken one look at Lizzie’s face, steered her over to the love seat and poured her a glass of wine. Then he’d demanded she talk. The food had chilled by the time Lizzie was all talked out and they were ready to eat. It took some more talk before she finally calmed down enough to get some sleep.

The cats were not happy to have Lizzie move. They’d hovered on the edge on her side of the bed, their usual spot when having to share it with one more body. They hung back when she headed downstairs, knowing Mark’s year-old hound, Patchett, was curled up in the kitchen on his bed away from home.

Lizzie shook some dry food into their bowls, leaving them on the counter out of Patchett’s greedy reach, gave him a couple of treats and headed out the door for a short run. She needed to clear her head, that much she knew.

She felt depressed about having seen Ashley and realized there was still a lot unfinished business between them. She’d never told Ashley just how badly she’d been made to feel, choosing to turn tail and hide instead. And seeing her again had brought back all those feelings of being powerless and unhappy. But whether or not she had any more nerve these days, she wasn’t quite sure. No, that wasn’t right. She had stood up to Ashley, in a manner of speaking, although losing her temper and making a spectacle of them both had not been very clever.

Lizzie sighed. She’d certainly made a fool of herself, and she knew that before long, the entire town would be talking about it. And how could she face the book club knowing she’d ruined the event they’d been planning for so long. At least the fair had ended and she had no reason to see the authors again, even though they were staying on for a couple of days.

Lizzie shook her head and tried to focus on her surroundings. It was too beautiful a morning to waste being stuck in her head. She concentrated instead on the sights of an Ashton Corners morning. She headed straight to the river path and allowed the morning mist rising from the river to shroud her in a cloak of anonymity and serenity. The early morning path was hers alone and she tried to keep her mind on the number of steps she was taking, rather than letting it dwell on what had happened the day before. She stopped rather suddenly at the sight of a deer that had wandered down the bank on the opposite side of the river for a drink. Lizzie looked around, hoping there wouldn’t be a jogger with a dog running along the other side or, worse yet, a hunter.

After a few minutes, the deer raised its head and looked around before scrambling back up the bank and leaping away into the woods. Lizzie remained standing in the same spot for a few more minutes, drawing in the beauty of the morning. She finally started moving at a slower pace, building back up to full speed by the time she reached Glendale Park. Thirty minutes more and she turned onto her street.

By the time she opened the kitchen door, she felt ready to face the day, Sunday anyway. Mark sat at the kitchen table reading the copy of the
Birmingham News
that had been delivered. He had a cup of coffee in front of him and Patchett at his feet.
Domestic bliss.

Lizzie gave him a quick kiss on the top of his head as she headed for a glass of cool water. After drinking two, she sat down across from him.

“Man and dog. Right off a calendar page.”

Mark grinned. “Did you have a good run?”

“I did. In fact, I’m so energized, I may even make you breakfast,” she said.

“Now, I hate to pass that up but I thought I’d take you out to Oscar’s for breakfast.” He looked hopefully at her. Oscar’s was his favorite breakfast spot.

“Sounds like a plan,” Lizzie said, standing. “I’ll shower and get ready. What about Patchett? When will you walk him?”

“I’ll do that while you’re getting ready. Just a short walk and then a longer one later.” He reached out for her hand and pulled her over. “How are you feeling today?”

“Like I said, energized.”

“I mean about the Ashley Dixon thing. No lingering upset or dwelling on bad memories?”

“No. I’m good,” she said and meant it, as long as she didn’t give Ashley a thought.

He gave her a quick kiss on the back of her neck as she tamped some freshly ground coffee into the holder for her espresso machine.

She drank her espresso slowly, as she did each time, trying to get the most enjoyment before it was finished. All too soon. She rinsed her cup out then ran upstairs to her bedroom. Both cats sat on the bed and gave her an apprehensive look as she entered.

“Just me, darlings. The other two have gone for a walk, so you’re free to roam. Then we’ll all be out of here and the house will once again be yours.”

Mark had made the bed. Housebroken, she thought with a smile. She laid out her black jeans and long-sleeved yellow-striped blouse on the pillow shams so the cats wouldn’t curl up on them, then headed for the bathroom.

By the time Mark got back, Lizzie had showered, dressed and treated herself to another espresso.

“I’m assuming we’re dropping Patchett off at your place first?” she asked.

Mark glanced at the cats, both sitting on the backrest of the love seat. “I think that’s advisable. Are you ready?”

She grabbed her small clutch bag and followed him out the door, Patchett leading the way. By the time they arrived at Oscar’s, the place was packed. Mark had thought to phone ahead and reserve them a table by the side window, overlooking a small courtyard that was also full. Lizzie sat back and relaxed, enjoying the din of happy customers and busy servers. Cheerful red-and-white-checkered tablecloths and seat covers complemented the casual look of pine walls and tables.

Lizzie looked around the room and spotted one of the teachers and her family at a table close to the back. She hadn’t been noticed, so she didn’t wave. She was surprised to see A.J. Pruitt, sitting alone at a small table on the other side of the room. The breakfasts at Oscar’s were always a favorite part of anyone’s visit to Ashton Corners, so she guessed perhaps he needed some space from the dueling divas. She’d stop by his table and say hi as they were leaving, if he were still there and if she could get up the nerve. She realized that she might indeed run into the authors in a town the size of Ashton Corners. Oh well, she’d just have to make the best of it.

Mark ordered his usual—three eggs sunny-side up, bacon, sausages, grits and coffee. Lizzie decided on a vegetarian omelet. After their coffee mugs had been filled, Mark sat back in his chair.

“So are things looking a bit brighter today?” he asked.

She sighed. “I guess I can get pretty wound up about something that’s really minor in the whole scheme of things. College was a long time ago and what happened is ancient history. And I suspect I won’t see Ashley Dixon again, despite her warnings of hanging around town more often, whatever that means. So yes . . . much brighter. And I’m off to see my mama this afternoon, so it’s all good. Do you want to come along?”

Mark gave it a moment’s thought. “I’d be happy to but you know how she sometimes gets agitated by a stranger.”

Lizzie nodded. “That’s odd, isn’t it? Usually she doesn’t recognize me, and yet on some level, she does, because it’s only people she rarely sees who have that effect on her. It would be nice if she grew into a level of comfort with you, though.” She smiled knowing he understood her meaning.

He leaned forward and covered her hand. “I agree. So it’s your decision. I’ll come anytime you want me to.”

Lizzie looked out the window, at the sun reflecting off the windows of the décor shop on the other side of the courtyard; at the patio umbrellas tilted to keep the patrons in the shade; at the red maple trees and Mexican sage that bordered the patio. Life was good. “Yes, please come with me today.”

“You’ve got it.”

Their meals arrived and they ate in companionable silence. When they’d finished, Lizzie enjoyed a third cup of coffee. “Let’s give Patchett that longer walk right now,” she suggested. “Mama will probably just about be heading into lunch. We can go over after.”

Mark grinned. “You will so be at the top of Patchett’s list. Mine, too, I might add.”

She glanced at A.J. as they walked to the door but he was immersed in reading the newspaper and she was happy to have a reason not to say hi. Mark grabbed her hand as they walked back to where he’d parked his Jeep.

*   *   *

L
izzie approached her mama’s room feeling happy. Gone was the anxiety of the past few days. She marveled at how spending time with Mark could set all right in her world. As if he sensed her thoughts, Mark slid his arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze. She opened the door and first thing she saw was her mama, sitting in her favorite chair staring out the window. Lizzie walked over, being sure to make a lot of noise so she wouldn’t startle her.

“I’m here, Mama,” she said, bending down to give her a hug. Evelyn Turner shifted in her chair and turned to face Lizzie although she didn’t speak. She glanced at Mark, who stood just behind Lizzie, but didn’t acknowledge him, either. A coughing spell overtook her and Lizzie passed her the glass of water that sat on the nearby table. Evelyn finished it off and then turned to face the window again.

Lizzie was quite used to this welcome. There’d be many days when Evelyn didn’t even acknowledge her presence. Today could be counted as a good day. Although Lizzie never expected to be recognized, she hadn’t totally given up hope and launched into a monologue about the week’s events.

Mark had pulled up a chair beside Lizzie and talked about the repairs being made to the Civil War monument in the center of town. He then leaned across Lizzie and showed Evelyn a picture of Patchett on his smartphone. He often kept her apprised of the dog’s progress at each visit. Evelyn glanced at the photo with little interest.

Lizzie found the box of chocolate from the Chocolate Gallery in Huntsville that Molly had brought in, and they each had one. She followed her mama’s gaze and although there was no activity in the yard, the hedges of soft touch holly and occasional colorful burning bush made an inviting scene.

“I never thought about it before,” Lizzie said, “but this looks a lot like Molly’s backyard, doesn’t it, Mama?” She glanced over and saw a small smile tug at the sides of Evelyn’s mouth.
Yes!
Lizzie launched into a description of that yard and her many memories walking the large maze that Molly’s husband had commissioned for it. She held on to her mama’s hand and from time to time felt a small returning squeeze.

They joined the other residents in the grand room for afternoon tea and cookies. Lizzie knew many of the people from being such a regular visitor over the years, and she exchanged greetings with a lot of them. Mark was a great hit with the older women. Several hobbled over to the grouping of love seats and chairs where they were sitting to say a few words to him. Lizzie glanced at Mark and was pleased he seemed to be enjoying the attention.

After they’d finished their tea, Lizzie led her mama back to her room and helped her settle on her bed for a short nap. Routine. It was all that was left to Evelyn. Mark had headed home to work in his yard and also do some prep work for a trial he’d be testifying at the next afternoon.

Later that evening, Lizzie had just finished a quick supper of pasta and chicken strips, and had settled down on the love seat to read. She’d picked up what had been on top of her TBR pile,
The Sayers Swindle
by Victoria Abbott. This was the second in the Book Collector series and Lizzie was really looking forward to it. Brie had commandeered her lap immediately, leaving Edam to stretch his long body out across the top of the love seat. Neither cat was pleased with the interruption of the telephone ringing.

Lizzie managed to extricate herself and grabbed it on the final ring before the answering service clicked in. She was shocked when she recognized Ashley Dixon’s voice.

“Now, please don’t go hanging up on me, Lizzie. I know you want to and I really wouldn’t blame you. Just hear me out. Please?”

Lizzie took a few moments before answering.
What was Ashley’s game?
She could at least listen. “Fine.”

She heard an audible sigh. Of relief?

“I wasn’t very nice to you yesterday, or back in college. We don’t need to discuss it. I just wanted to tell you I know what a wretch I was and I want to apologize.”

Lizzie took another moment. “Why?”

“As I said, I may be spending more time in Ashton Corners, and although I know we’ll never be friends, it would at least be nice not to have to avoid each other. I don’t know what got into me yesterday but I am trying to change. Really.”

“Why will you be around here more?”

“Things are happening.” Lizzie could almost hear the shrug at the other end of the line. Still not able to give a straight answer.