Pint of No Return (9 page)

“This is Hops. He belongs to Floyd Fillmer,” said Callie. “Floyd got suddenly ill and had to go to the hospital.”

“That’s terrible. Do they know what’s wrong with him?” Coral asked, stroking Hops’ soft fur.

“No, he basically just collapsed in front of me. There wasn’t any other staff around and I didn’t feel I could leave the dog there alone,” she said. “They don’t even know he’s with me.”

“Well, you did the right thing,” said Coral. “Hops can have a little farm vacation. I may have some leftover dog food for him. One of the farm volunteers last spring had a dog.”

“I can keep him in the cottage,” Callie offered.

“Don’t worry. Let’s see where he wants to stay. I don’t mind having him in the house. He’ll give me and your grandma something to argue about,” she said. “Come on, Hops. Let’s get you something to eat.”

Callie could hear Coral’s voice talking to the dog as they walked towards the barn and Hops looked at her with every indication of understanding. Callie smiled to herself. Hops would fit in fine here for a few days.

When she got to her cottage, she called Walt Eckman, but Yuki answered the phone. “Callie, how was your tour of Magic Waters?” she asked.

“The tour part was fine, but something happened to Floyd at the end.” Callie explained Floyd’s collapse and subsequent trip to the hospital.

“Oh no! Thank you so much for calling us,” said Yuki. “We’ll go straight to the hospital.” As she hung up, Callie could hear her calling for Walt.

Callie hadn’t realized the Eckmans were so close to Floyd Fillmer. They had encouraged her to go and visit his brewery, but only as one of the set of the several places who were participating in the premium showcase.

Callie walked over to the main house and found her grandma in the kitchen peeling potatoes. “What are you going to do with those?” Callie asked. “I didn’t think you could can potatoes.”

“So you think you know everything about canning, eh?” said Grandma Minnie.  Her steel gray hair was pulled into its usual bun and she was wearing a hand knitted pink cardigan.  “I just happen to think canned potatoes are mushy. Besides, they keep pretty well in their skin. There’s not a whole lot of need to preserve them some other way.”

“I stand corrected,” said Callie.  The counter was stacked with small faceted jam jars.  “Then what’s going in the jam jars?”

“We have a lone quince tree back in the orchard.  Your mom picked some and I plan to put up a batch of jelly tomorrow.”

Callie had always liked the quilted glass jars her grandma used.  The faceted sides sparkled in the light and always made the contents look translucent and shot through with light.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen ones that small.”

“A little quince jelly goes a long way,” said Grandma.  “Those are half the size of the normal jars. The potatoes I’m peeling for dinner. Your mom found a passel of mushrooms in a stand of firs next to the hazelnut orchard and I thought they’d make a nice sort of gravy and I’d make a casserole. It’d be better with meat, but you know your mom.”

“That’s the second time today I’ve encountered mushrooms,” said Callie. “Did you know you could brew them into a beer?”

Grandma sniffed. “That sounds like a waste of both a good beer and good mushrooms.”

Coral came into the kitchen, Hops right behind her.

“What on earth is that thing?” asked Grandma, staring at the dog.

“That’s Hops,” said Callie. “I was over at the Magic Waters Brewery today and Floyd Fillmer fell ill. There wasn’t anyone around to take care of the dog, so I brought him home. It’s only temporary.”

Hops saw Grandma Minnie and barked at her.

“We can hope so,” Grandma Minnie said.

“Maybe he doesn’t think you smell good,” said Coral.  

“What was wrong with Floyd?  It wasn’t serious, was it?” asked Grandma Minnie, glaring at Coral, but ignoring her comment.

“He mentioned he’d just gotten over the flu, but he sort of collapsed in front of me,” said Callie, “so it might be more serious than that. They took him to the hospital.”

Grandma looked at Hops warily.  “How long do you think he’ll be in there?”

Callie laughed.  “Hopefully not very long.  Hops will fit in just fine, you’ll see.”

As Callie was putting out the dinner plates on the table, Coral asked about her house hunting.  “Did you see anything you liked?”

“Yes and no.  I liked the look of the Lincoln School Condos, but the price, combined with the housing association fee, leads me to think I don’t like it that much.  Then I got to see a place in historic Millton that would take me all the way back to doing dishes and laundry by hand.”

“That would certainly be energy saving,” laughed Coral.  “You know I’m in no hurry to have you out of here.  I won’t need any more help with the farm until March or so.  You’re doing such good work with the basic chores it’s freeing me up to prepare the gardens for winter.”

“I’m glad I can help,” said Callie, still feeling guilty she wasn’t paying rent.

They sat down to dinner, Hops lying on top of Callie’s feet under the table.  She smiled to herself.  It wasn’t so much that she wanted to live alone.  She liked living with her mom and grandma.  The cottage provided enough privacy and separation of space that there were times it felt like living alone.

It was also nice to have someone care about where she was.  The cooked meals, minus some of the more vegetarian horrors, were nice to come home to.

“What’s up with Detective Scooter?” asked Grandma Minnie.  Callie shook her head.  So much for privacy.

“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure.  We haven’t had much chance to talk,” said Callie truthfully.  “I think he’s started a new case.  Or something.”

“Don’t let the grass grow under your feet.  He’s a keeper,” said Grandma.

As they were already near the topic, Callie said, “I’m meeting Audrey tomorrow to chat about wedding supplies.”

Grandma Minnie went straight for the point that had been troubling Callie.  “Maybe this is one job you shouldn’t have taken on.  I’m not sure how you can be dating her ex, but planning her next wedding.  That’s just borrowin’ trouble to me.”

“I’m not sure I’d go so far as to call my relationship with Scott dating,” she said.  “And no, I don’t think Audrey has any idea that he and I have been seeing each other.”  Saw each other, she added mentally as she wasn’t sure of seeing him again in the future.

“Don’t you think you should say something?” asked Coral.  “It wouldn’t be good for you to invest more work in the wedding and then have her fire you at the last minute.  And you’re not charging her for it?”

“No,” said Callie.  “As it will be a sort of big time event in town, I thought I’d probably get a lot of value from just the exposure of being the wedding planner.” 

“Didn’t you say the same thing about the brew fest?” asked Grandma Minnie.

“Yes, but really, the first couple of events will connect me with folks and give me plenty of references to use when I go out seeking paid work.  Besides, Audrey’s an old friend.  Think of how many hours we spent dreaming of fairy tale weddings when we were kids.  It’s my chance to help her with that.”

They looked at her doubtfully, but didn’t say anything else.

Chapter Six

On Wednesday morning, Callie drove downtown to Caffe Misto to meet Audrey and talk about wedding plans.  Callie arrived first and, sighing regretfully, only got a coffee.  She couldn’t get a cinnamon roll every time she came here.  Besides, she normally split it with whomever she was sitting with and she couldn’t imagine Audrey wanting something like that while thinking of fitting into a wedding dress.  She got the coffee special, a mocha with orange, and added whipped cream to spite her lack of cinnamon roll.  The cafe was half full as the morning coffee rush had taken place well over an hour ago.

Callie took her coffee to a round table in the back corner.  It was her favorite table as she could sit with her back to the warm red brick walls and see the rest of the cafe and even out to the street.  The walls were hung with large carpets from a local carpet store and Callie admired the latest one hanging in what she thought of as her corner.  The rug was a vibrant cobalt blue shot through with black vines and small gold flowers.  It looked so lovely on the wall, she couldn’t imagine how someone would walk on it. 

Audrey came in, interrupting Callie’s ruminations on the carpet.  Audrey was wearing slim fitting jeans with black flats.  Although Callie couldn’t tell the designer immediately, she knew that Audrey also indulged in clothing that was more likely to be seen in New York than in Skinner.  It was nice to see someone else had a weakness for designer fashions.  As Audrey ordered a coffee and waited for it, Callie wondered if she herself should find a less expensive vice.  It wasn’t that she couldn’t wear jeans from Wal-Mart, but that she didn’t want to.  There was something reassuring about the fit and cut of more expensive clothes, although Callie supposed the jeans her mom wore from Bi-Mart, a local discount chain, clothed a person adequately.  And for Coral’s work on the farm, where her jeans were constantly covered in mud, goats and other vegetal items, less expensive jeans were practical.  Callie didn’t want to be practical.  She saw clothing as a statement.  It told people where you were from or what you cared about.  She felt that clothing provided her a cover, gave her a status that maybe, in her heart of hearts, she didn’t think she possessed.

As Audrey approached, carefully balancing a cup of coffee on a saucer, Callie thought back to high school and realized that Audrey wore designer names because that’s what she had always worn.  They weren’t any kind of support for her.

Callie got up and gave her a hug.  “How’s the bride doing?” 

Audrey laughed.  “Is it too late to elope?  I was thinking this was supposed to be easier the second time around.”

“It shouldn’t be any harder,” said Callie.  “What’s happening?”

They sat at the table.  “I haven’t yet met Vijay’s mom in person, but she calls almost every other day suggesting some new thing.  I keep telling her this ceremony is the small one and she can do all of these other things when we are in India.”

Callie nodded.  “Just hold your ground and remember it’s your wedding, not hers.”

“Well, it may not be hers, but Vijay is her only son.  She’s made it clear he’s settling for less in marrying a woman who is a divorcee.”

“Don’t people in India get divorced?” asked Callie.  “I can’t imagine all their marriages work out one hundred percent of the time.”

“No, they don’t,” said Audrey.  “But the divorced women often become a sort of pariah.  I’m glad Vijay is thoroughly American.”

“Are there any things she wants done that are easy?” asked Callie.  “Maybe we can placate her with some simple window dressing.”

“I love how you go straight to saying ‘we,’” said Audrey.  “I can only make it through this with your help.  And yes, I think we can use her simpler ideas.  She’d like us to give out incense as a wedding favor and although that seems very Skinner to me, I want to modify that and give scented candles and sachets.”

“How can I help?” asked Callie. 

“I have a line on the candles.  One of my neighbors makes pure beeswax candles and I can get them custom scented from her.  I’m sort of stuck on the sachets though.  Kareena, Vijay’s mother, gave me a list of ingredients for the sachets and I have no idea where to get them all.  I’d like to get them as fresh and local as I can.”

“Leave it to me,” said Callie.  “What’s the list?”

Wedding sachets out of the way, Audrey spent the rest of their time together talking about Vijay.  Callie nodded and smiled in the right places, glad Audrey had found something to make her happy.  She seemed much healthier than when Callie had visited her at home over the summer.  Maybe true love did that to a person.

Armed with the recipe Audrey had given her, Callie headed to Alterspice.  The shop was located just outside of downtown, in the area Callie thought of as the heart of the weirdness of Skinner.  The area was beginning to become more commercialized, but there was still a halfway house for addictions of all kinds, a smoke shop and vegan café.  Alterspice and the café shared the same small low slung white brick building.  As Callie passed the cafe, she was surprised to see how full it was at this time of the day. She thought maybe those with alternative lifestyles, had alternative time schedules as well.

There was a sign on the window at Alterspice that said, ‘No credit, cash only.’ A bell rang as she entered the shop, but the sound didn’t seem to bring anyone out, as Callie was alone in the room.  Lining the walls were shelves from floor to ceiling with hundreds of glass jars carrying a rainbow of spices.  There was an island in the center of the room containing some of the things Callie was looking for.  It was more floral oriented than the items on the shelves.  Callie needed lavender for Audrey’s sachets, and the smell from a stack of lavender bunches drew her in.  She leaned over the flowers, breathing in the aroma.

“The lavender is from a farm right outside of Skinner,” said a voice coming from directly behind her right elbow.  Callie started and turned around.  It was all she could do not to jump a second time.  The store clerk, wearing a leather black vest over a black t-shirt was immediately behind her.  His salt and pepper colored hair was pulled back from his forehead and plaited into a braid reaching halfway down his back.  His arms were tattooed in an array of flowers and herbs like the old fashioned wallpaper Callie had seen of kitchens from the 1950’s.  However, what had made her jump were the numerous piercings in his nose and above his eyebrows.  His eyes were ringed with kohl.  The Goth look was slightly minimized by his purely utilitarian name badge.  The badge was a white plastic one with a space for the employee to write his name.  This badge was labeled with a hand-scrawled Arnold.

She recovered herself.  “It’s lovely.  It always smells better when fresh, doesn’t it?”

“We do try to stock as much from the local area as possible just for that reason,” he said, continuing to stand uncomfortably close to her.  “Can I help you find something?”

“I came after hearing about this place from Floyd Fillmer,” said Callie, wanting to back up but blocked by the island.

“He’s a good customer,” he said.  “It’s amazing what brewers are adding to their beers lately.  They have a lot of interesting requests that keep us on our toes.”

“Well, I’m here for something fairly standard,” said Callie.  “Ingredients for wedding sachets to be given as gifts.  Lavender, rose hips, lemon grass… here’s the list.” 

Arnold looked at the list, the late morning sunlight causing the small metal spikes embedded in his temples to gleam.  “Can I make a suggestion?”

“Sure.”

“Rose buds will be much more fragrant in this than rose hips.  Funny, the last time we sold some of those was right when Floyd came in.”

“He wanted rose hips?”

“No, it was one of the other brewers.  Lots of crazy beer making going on in Skinner.”

“The more I hear about beer in this town,” Callie said, “the more I realize I don’t know anything about beer.” 

“I like to think there’s a lot we can learn about everything,” he said.  “We’re always experimenting with herbs and spices to find new ways to use them.”

Callie looked at the list.  “I must have written it wrong.  Let’s go with rosebuds.  They are probably prettier anyway.”

She was relieved as he turned and walked away.  “Come to the counter and I’ll get these items filled.”

The counter at the back of the store was of a light blond wood.  There was a clothesline running the length of the counter behind it and as Callie walked forward she could see something hanging from the line and assumed it was herbs or bunches of flowers.  They were the wrong shape for something like drying rosemary or lavender.  When she got closer, she realized they were small shapes, sculpted from metal.  The majority were bats, but his display also included metal spiders, crabs and dragons. 

Arnold saw Callie looking at them.  “I am only working here to fund my art.  I make these at my metal shop at home and sell them here and at the Saturday Market.”

Callie wasn’t sure what to say.  “They are very interesting.”  She couldn’t imagine having one of the dark, jagged sculptures hanging anywhere in her home.  “You have quite a few bats.  Does no one buy them?”

“Oh, no!  They are by far the most popular.  We have a Bat Earth Society here in town.  Bats are wonderful creatures, taking care of many pesky insects that bother plants.  But it’s not their bug eating skills or claws that I like, but rather…” Arnold stopped a moment, looking into the distance, lost in thought.

Callie sometimes had a tendency to finish people’s sentences for them, but could not imagine how he was going to finish this one.  Wings?  Beady little eyes?

Then, looking at her intently he said, “I like them because there’s a piercing power in the creepy.” 

She nodded her head as if she had some idea of what he was talking about, but in reality she was sure she did not.

“I never thought of it that way, but when you say it like that, I definitely understand creepy,” she said.

He seemed to be satisfied and puttered around the shop, opening various jars to fill her order.  Callie wanted to look at something other than the variety of surreal metallic creatures hanging behind the counter and looked at the counter itself.  There was an old fashioned metal cash register with a large account book next to it.  Callie read it from upside down and saw it was a ledger of all the purchases made in the shop.  So not only did they not take credit, they used a paper accounting system to track their merchandise.

“Out of curiosity, does this book show what kind of mushrooms Floyd Fillmer ordered?”

“As long as he got them here.  Do you know when it was he purchased them?”

Callie thought for a moment.  “Probably September or early October.”  That was when Walt had begun signing up people for the premium showcase.

Arnold paged back through the book.  “Let me see… yes, here it is.  October 10th.  He bought a couple of bags of Chanterelles.  And just as I had thought, the brewer from Sylvan Ales was here the next day and got rose hips.”

“Thanks.  My grandma was cooking with mushrooms lately and I was wondering if some dried ones might help.”

“You probably wouldn’t want Chanterelles.  I’d recommend some Porcini because they have a more distinctive flavor when dried.”

Callie added that to her order.  Mushroom and potato casserole was probably never going to be her favorite no matter what flavorings she had grandma add.