Bloody Baubles

Chapter 1 It was so rare that Becky Olson got a night alone. She had ordered take out from the place her mother, Emily, hated and was watching a trashy romantic comedy. She had not class to teach, all of her friends were otherwise busy without her and she was alone with her black kitten, Celia, named for one of her favorite Shakespeare heroines. It was a perfect night, really. She was wearing a ratty college sweater and had tied her hair out of her face. She was drinking coffee and sitting on top of her bed, cross legged, trying to just master the art of chopsticks. "Should we get some more coffee?" Becky asked. Celia mewed in response, and Becky hoped that was a yes. She wasn't yet fluent in cat. Becky scooped up the black cat, pressing her to her chest and descended the staircase to her little store, Carnegie’s antiques. She looked around. It had been a busy enough day and she sighed at the satisfactory silence of the store being closed. She walked to the puke green kitchen, a colorcolor she should redo, (but didn't want to) and placed her cat on the table. She hummed to herself as she began to make coffee, the ritual a long tradition between her and her mother. She got into it a little, letting herself dance around the kitchen. She turned the light on and went through the mail. There was never anything of interest. She thought about starting an online shopping addiction, like her next door neighbor, Mickey Dunner, just to find something fun in her mail every day. She didn't really need anything, though, and her small apartment above the store didn't have much room for things. So, bills and flyers it would be for the foreseeable future. Becky pulled a clean mug from the drying rack, a large black one that would hold the most amount of coffee in one mug. She had found it in a flea market for fifty cents, and it had been the best fifty cents she had ever spent. She wondered if she should feel bad about the fact that all her friends were busy without her. She could walk over to Minnie's Diner, which was two minutes away and the best diner in the tiny town of Rose Hollow. But she didn't exactly want to leave her house. And anyway, Rachel Davis wouldn't even be there, and there was no point in going to the diner if her friend wasn't there. Becky waited for the machine to go off so she could get her fix. She was trying to cut back on the amount of coffee she drank, and she was trying to replace it with hot water instead, but there was something so lackluster about drinking warm water. It didn't do the same thing. She turned back to the machine, letting herself stare out of the tiny window that was placed on the wall. She wondered why that window was even there. It wasn't a very good view of the town, unlike the window at the front of the store. Becky's store was on Main Street and she was usually in the middle of things, and that was usually very good her for. It was always a little weird living over the place she owned. The store was sort of haunting at night and she tried to avoid it with everything she could. The machine went off and she poured her mug. There was a knock at the door and she looked at her cat as if Celia could tell her whether to open the door or not. It was about nine thirty on a Tuesday night. No one was going to murder her on a Tuesday night. She felt as if she was becoming a little bit paranoid. There was another knock, breaking the silence around her. She picked up her mug and her cat, not a very easy feat, and walked towards the door. Maybe it was girl scouts, she could use some cookies. She didn't know if Rose Hollow had girl scouts. To her relief it was only her neighbor. Becky put her cat down to open the door. "I thought you would be alone,” Mickey said. She was older, and she clutched a tin foil covered dish. "Did you bring me food?" Becky asked. "I just made too much, and I thought you would be eating something processed," Mickey said. Becky stepped back to let her in. "It's not processed," Becky said. "If you didn't cook it yourself, you don't know where it's been," Mickey said firmly. Becky fought the urge to roll her eyes. For many months, Mickey had been Becky's surrogate sort of mom until her own mother had shown up at her door for an extended vacation. Becky couldn't begrudge her own mother too much. Sometimes they just needed each other. "I'm watching a movie you hate," Becky said. "It stars Katherine Heigl. There are dresses involved and Colin Firth is nowhere to be seen." "I'll put up with it," Mickey said. "Where is Emily?" Emily and Mickey hated each other. They were working on it, for Becky's sake, but their arguing usually gave Becky a headache. "She's out. She's not very forthcoming these days," Becky said. The persistent rumor through Becky's group of friends was that her mother was dating the mayor of Rose Hollow, but Becky didn't believe it. Emily wouldn't tell her either way. They made their way upstairs, Mickey picking up the cat, and they piled onto Becky's bed. Mickey clicked her tongue twice, and sadly. "Listen, my mom didn't leave me anything to eat," Becky said. She knew how pathetic that sounded, but she wasn't the cook in the family. Emily was. "I was enjoying myself," Becky explained. Mickey placed her dish on the bed. They were both ignoring the fact they were bugs in Becky's bed and settled in. They didn't say much, but they didn't have to. Becky knew there was something Mickey wanted to gossip about, but the older lady said nothing. "What are you trying not to say?" Becky asked. There was another long pause, and Mickey said nothing. "Nothing." Mickey looked around Becky's little bedroom. Becky raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "You were just alone and so you decided to come over?" Becky asked. "I actually thought you'd be alone. I know everyone is sort of busy and you are doing almost nothing," Mickey said. "Hey!" Becky said. "Sometimes I like to be alone. I don't have to be with someone all the time." She was glad that Mickey had come over. She had thought the silence was starting to get to her, although she wasn't going to admit it. "I know," Mickey said. "I just thought that maybe you could use some company." "Well, you were right about that," Becky said. She stared at her computer screen for a moment. She was unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do. Luckily, she didn't have to do anything. "Shouldn't you be painting?" Mickey asked. She did have a commission hanging over her head, and Becky had quickly remembered why she didn't do many commissions. However, a good portion of Rose Hollow was insanely rich, and those rich people would pay good money for landscapes and portraits. It was a good way to make some easy cash. "I can take the night off," Becky said. "I'm changing this movie," Mickey said. "I knew you would," Becky said with a chuckle. She couldn't really complain. She knew she would like whatever Mickey decided to put on. "Did you hear about Roxanne and the plumber?" Mickey asked. She always managed to have the best stories about infidelity in this town. "No, but let me guess, Roxanne was hooking up with the plumber and her husband found them?" Becky asked. It seemed very straightforward. "Here's the kicker," Mickey said. "Instead of walking out or doing something really violent, he joined in." "No!" Becky leaned forward, unable to hide the grin from her face. It was a good story. Mickey always had the best stories, and Becky didn't know how she did it. They would end up staying up through the night, watching random movies online and giving them necessary commentary and gossiping, Mickey giving Becky important details about people she barely or did not know. Becky didn't mind at all. She would never admit it, but she loved hearing about her crazy town. There was always a story waiting for her. They ate through both dishes and fell asleep on Becky's bed. It was the best way to spend a night that didn't involve the diner, her friends and pie. It was the best way to relax after a long day. Becky watched as a customer rifled through some of her things. She had been open for a couple of hours and had granted her assistant, Lucy "LJ" Jennings, the morning off for a doctor's appointment. Becky was alone and watching this woman, who had a definite smell that was too sweet, go through her things. She looked away through the window hat framed part of Main Street like her own personal television show. She watched as people passed and watched as people stopped to talk to each other. "Miss, excuse me," the woman's voice was cloying. Becky pulled her attention back to her customer and set a smile on her face. "Is this a set?" The woman was holding a perfect, hand painted china plate. It was a set, and it was placed with four other plates, two bowls and two mugs. Becky nodded, keeping her smile on her face. Some people just couldn't look. "I'll give you a deal if you take them all," Becky offered. She would only mark the total down by about twenty dollars, but she needed that set out of her store. The woman nodded, considering if that was a good deal. Then she began to bring them all up to her counter. "These are amazing," the woman said as she did so. "My husband and I were just driving through. We're headed to Portland for our daughter's wedding. She would love these. It feels right to give china as a gift, you know? Do you know anything about them?" "They are very old," Becky said. The woman laughed, even though the joke wasn't very funny. "I think they are from the fifties or sixties. Hand painted, you can see how they are fading. Beautiful," Becky said. If they hadn't sold, she would have taken them for herself, but she felt weird about doing that. And they were going now. She wrapped every plate and bowl and mug individually with brown paper, taking care not to break any of them. The woman watched intently as she did so. "Are you married?" the woman asked. "No, I do have a boyfriend, but it's not very serious," Becky replied. She hated when customers tried to get personal. But this wasn't about her. This was about the daughter that Becky had never met. "It feels like she was just born yesterday," the woman said softly, "and now she's all grown up and getting married. He's an investment banker, very nice. Old money, too, and he loves our Meghan, so I can't really complain. I've never seen her happier than she is with him." "I hope they'll be very happy together," Becky said. She was never sure of what to say in these types of situations, so those types of pleasantries seemed safe. The woman smiled. Up close, her perfume was about to make Becky cough, but she held it back. "I'm sure they will. My husband hates him, but no one was ever good enough for his little girl," the woman added. Becky nodded. She would never know what that was like. She had never known her father. Becky tapped her fingers on the counter, unsure of what to say. "When's the wedding?" Becky asked. The worst of part of having a store was having to make conversations with the people who came in. "This weekend," the woman replied. Becky put the purchase through and the woman didn't even pause at the price Becky gave her. She nodded, and Becky placed it all in two carrying bags. "Maybe we'll be back on the drive back. I need to tell all of my friends about this place." Becky put a couple of her business cards in the bags as well. "Please, tell everyone you know. Have a nice time in Portland!" Becky said, waving as the woman exited the store. For about two moments it was silent, and then the door opened again. It had been a rather steady stream of customers, and she wished LJ would get there so that she could take a break and eat lunch. She still had half full take out containers in the fridge and she wanted to sit and relax. "Hey," one customer said. They were both young men, around her age, and she realized that antiques weren't really interesting to men her age. She couldn't remember the last time she had had one in there that wasn't a friend of hers. "Aren't you that girl?" "Depends on the girl you are thinking of," Becky said, raising an eyebrow. She loved playing this game. The man removed his baseball cap, he was a Blue Jays fan, and she wondered if they were in from Canada. She wondered if she had had anyone in from Canada in her store. "The girl from the paper?" the man asked. Becky nodded, letting a smile form on her face. "Sure," Becky said. "I'm her." The two men shared a long look. She couldn't exactly tell what they were thinking. She watched as they had a quick, silent conversation. "That's cool," one said. The other nodded in agreement. "I know," Becky agreed. Her face had graced the papers a couple of weeks back and she knew that everyone had been talking about her. She just wasn't sure how she had reached Canada. "Martin, check this out." The one who had spoken to her initially, still clutching his baseball cap, turned back towards where his friend was standing. Becky stayed behind the counter, watching them. They looked as if they had no particular reason for being in her store. Maybe they just wanted to check her out. Hopefully they wouldn't try to steal anything. She readjusted herself on her stool, one day she would get a better seat for behind the counter, and took a sip from her coffee mug, long cold, and watched. They talked between each other, rather quickly. Becky turned to her laptop, which was on the counter in front of her. She was now always on the store's social media pages, trying to make sure that they were getting good ratings. The door opened again and Rachel Davis, in her uniform for Minnie's Diner just down the street, barged into her store. She passed the two customers and took a seat behind the counter. So many of her friends took this liberty. Becky should have put a stop to it early. "I have fifteen minutes," Rachel said. "Well, thirteen. I'm on break." "You're on break, and you didn't bring my fries? I am offended," Becky said, raising an eyebrow. She and Rachel had become friends very quickly when Becky moved to Rose Hollow. "You'll be in for fries later, and you can't just eat fries," Rachel countered. Becky rolled her eyes. "So, did you hear about Roxanne?" Rachel asked. Much like Mickey, Rachel loved to gossip. She talked faster than anyone Becky knew, and Rachel was able to say so much more in less time. She looked around the store. "Busy day today, huh?" "I got rid of the china set," Becky said. "No!" Rachel said. "I wanted that for my wedding." "Sorry," Becky said, "and you're not even engaged." Becky knew that Rachel's long-term boyfriend Jeremy Pike had bought a ring and was planning on proposing, Becky just didn't know when. And it was hard enough trying to keep that secret. "And Mickey was over last night, so I heard all about Roxanne and the plumber." "No," Rachel said again. "Not Roxanne Q. Roxanne J. Roxanne Johnson." "Is this another affair story?" Becky asked. She had gotten a little tired of Rose Hollow and its infidelity. Why did not one marry the person they actually wanted to spent time with? "Well, sort of," Rachel said. She sighed, placing an elbow on the counter. "She caught her husband cheating and I do believe that she will murder him." Becky nodded. "Why is this town only good at cheating and murder?" Becky asked. "I actually think we're pretty good at baking things, too. And we do have a record for having the best Spring Festival," Rachel said. She said it almost too proudly. "Right," Becky said slowly. One of the men approached the counter. It was the one without the baseball cap, and he looked younger, almost even boyish, like he was fully grown but still about fifteen years old. He was weird too look at. "You don't have any old records or anything, do you?" he asked. Becky nodded. "In the crates in the corner, but I will warn you that all I seem to have is old jazz," Becky said. The man nodded and turned away. "This is so cool," Rachel said, leaning forward on both elbows. "Yeah," Becky said. "I am pretty lucky."