My Furry Valentine: "In Between" 1.5 (Peculiar Mysteries) (4 page)

Chapter Four

10 days until the wedding...

I’d spent the better
part of two days refusing to leave the cabin. On the third morning, I stared at myself in the mirror, thankful the normal color was returning to my cheeks. Pleasantly enough, the new skin was supple and glowy. So, while I wouldn’t recommend using a miracle sponge as a skincare product, all in all, the consequences could have been a lot worse.

Babel had left early for a meeting at the courthouse with the sheriff, the town council, and the Peculiar Chamber of Commerce about whether to approve some zoning or some such for Elton Brown’s furniture store. He wanted to build an extra room for inventory on the back of his shop. I really liked Elton, so I hope they all voted yes. Babe seemed pretty confident there wouldn’t be any issues.

The phone rang. The caller I.D. identified Jo Jo Corman. I answered it quickly. “Is everything okay?”

“I have some bad news.”

“Just tell me,” I said, steeling my resolve.

“The reception hall at the lodge flooded.”

Noooo!
I tried for optimistic. “Surely they can fix the damage in ten days.”

“Nope. Sheri Smith says all the carpeted floors are ruined and the walls sustained water damage, too. It’ll take a month, maybe longer, to fix everything.”

“I swear to all that is homicidal and unholy, if another thing goes wrong, I will go ape-shit-crazy on someone’s ass!”

“Don’t kill the messenger,” Jo Jo said. The high pitch in his voice indicated his stress. “I didn’t want to tell you in the first place.”

“Lost the coin toss, did you?”

“Yeah.”

“Chavvah cheats.” I took a breath, sucking the air deep into my lungs. I wanted to blame how I felt on my hormones, but the truth was, I teetered on the edge of freaking out. Would nothing go right this week?

“If it weren't the middle of winter, we could do it outside,” said Jo Jo. “But I’m not sure where you’re going to find a place that seats most the town.”

This wasn’t Jo Jo’s problem. He should be worried about girls and school, not where I was going to hold my rehearsal dinner and wedding reception. “I’ll find a place, Jo Jo. You don’t concern yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, sounding unconvinced.

“Thanks for calling.” After he said bye and hung up, I sank down onto the loveseat. “Well,” I said to Baby Trimmel. “This sucks.”

***
*

9 day until the wedding...

One day had
passed with no luck on getting a new place for the rehearsal and reception. Valentine’s Day was
only
the busiest time of the year, next to Christmas, for most venues.

To take my mind off my wedding woes, Ruth had invited me to lunch. While I have been a vegetarian my whole life, for psychic reasons, the little half-therian inside me craved meat. The bloodier, the better. Yuck. I’d given in once to the craving and had a slaughter house vision that nearly sent me into premature labor. Since then, I tried to appease the wee one by eating a lot of meat substitutes. She wasn’t satisfied, which meant neither was I. Blondina Messer, the owner of Blonde Bear Cafe had called and said she might have a solution. I didn’t need any other enticement.

I detoured at the general store. My teeth needed some brightening, and I didn’t have any hydrogen peroxide at home. I’d also noticed a pimple coming out on my chin this morning. I worried it would take a miracle to look pretty for my wedding day… that or a deal with the…

Kyle Avery shoved past me on his way out of the general store, a shopping bag in hand.
Speaking of the devil.
He snarled at me, and I stopped, startled by his outright hostility. He sneered and laughed, and then head down the street without a second look back.

“Hey, Sunny,” Delbert shouted when he saw me enter the shop. “How you doing today?”

“Good, Del. How are you?”

“Same ole, same ole. You’re looking ready to go there,” he said, gesturing to my belly. “If you were an inch taller, you’d be round as a plum.”

I was too frazzled for a good comeback, so I just said, “That’s mean, Delbert. Even for you.”

“Oh, now, Sunny. You know I was just joshin’ you. You look good for an acorn.” He winked.

“You’re funny,” I said, “funny looking, that is.”

He laughed. “What can I do you for today?”

“I need some hydrogen peroxide.”

“Well, shoot. I just sold the last three bottles. Won’t get any more in until next week.”

“Next week will be too late,” I whined. “Oh well, baking soda is supposed to whiten teeth. You have it, or are you out of that too?”

Delbert came out from behind the register. He walked to the second aisle and pulled off an orange box. He handed it to me. “On the house,” he said. “For your pain and suffering.”

I gave his beard a friendly tug. “Thanks.” I looked at my watch. I’d told Ruth I’d meet her at one o’clock, and I was cutting it close. “Talk to you soon,” I told the opossum-shifter, and I raced (more like waddled) out the door.

****

The lunch rush
was over by the time Ruth and I arrived at Blonde Bear Cafe. The burgers, tenderloins, and chicken fried steaks offered here made my mouth water. Baby Trimmel kicked me hard. “Don’t get too excited,” I whispered.

Blondina Messer lit up when she saw me. “I think I’ve got it, Sunny! I’ve solved the meat problem.”

I raised a skeptical brow.

“Now just hear me out.” She pulled out canned ham. I eyed the mystery meat suspiciously. “The fresher the meat, the fresher the vision. This stuff has been processed to a point that not even the company that makes it would know the origin. Plus it’s been sitting on a shelf for God knows how long. Thanks to the preservatives, it could probably sit on the shelf for another century and still be edible.”

“Debatable,” Ruth muttered. Blondina glared at her. Ruth shook her head but didn’t expound on her opinion.

“I know it’s not ideal, but...”

Baby Trimmel kicked me again. “Oof,” I said, holding my side. “Fix it up for me.”

“I’ll take a chicken salad,” Ruth said. When Blondina left, she leaned in close. “That stuff can’t be good for you or the baby.”

“The baby thinks different,” I said. “She is a carnivore through and through.” I had a dream once that she grew teeth in my womb and chewed her way out of me. In some part of my brain, even though Babe told me it was impossible, I secretly worried it might happen.

Blondina’s daughter Selena brought drinks to the table—iced tea for me and a diet cola with lemon for Ruth.

“How’s it going with Deputy Connelly?” I’d predicted their dating back in July.

She held out her hand. On her ring finger was a pretty little princess cut diamond in a platinum setting. “He just asked me last night!” she squealed.

“Oh, honey,” Ruth said. “I’m so happy for you.”

“That’s wonderful,” I said, taking her hand to get a closer look at the engagement ring. “It’s so pretty.”

A vision of Connelly rushing into the restaurant, his face pale and beaded with sweat, staggered me. I leaned back, suddenly alarmed.

“What is it?” Ruth asked.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. But it’s nothing good.”

Sheriff Taylor and his wife Jean came into the cafe. They sat at a table near Ruth and me.

“Hey, Sugar,” Jean said to me. She was a handsome woman with her long graying hair pulled into a loose bun. The slight dark circles around her eyes, like those on her husband, were more an indication of her animal side than a lack of sleep. Jean and the sheriff were both raccoon shifters.

“Hi, Jean.” I almost giggled, as I did every time I greeted her. Hi, Jean. Hygiene. My sophomoric humor aside, Jean was a nice woman, but she could cut you down with her sweetness like no one else I’d ever met. “Sheriff,” I said, nodding his way.

“Pleasant day,” he said, then turned his attention to the menu.

I spotted Blondina coming from the kitchen with something that looked like a burger and Ruth’s salad. I resisted rubbing my hands together in an eager yummy-yummy gesture. Baby Trimmel was a terrible influence on me.

The smell of smoked, salty meat wafted up at me from where she set the sandwich and sweet potato fries down on the table. My mouth watered.
Gross.
I swallowed. The “burger” was a large square hunk of pink meat grilled crispy on all sides, on top was a grilled pineapple, crisp iceberg lettuce, and some freshly pickled jalapenos.

I lifted the sandwich to my lips, opened wide, and sank in for a bite. I held my breath waiting for a horrid animal-killing vision. But there were no visions of blood, no squeals of dying pigs, no nothing.

I chewed and swallowed before my psychic-mojo could turn on me. A flutter in my belly told me my little darling was happy as well.

“Oh my gosh, Blondina,” I finally said after two more bites. “If I weren't already engaged, I’d marry you.”

Blondina’s broad smile lit her face. “I’m adding it to the rehearsal dinner menu.” She put her hand on my shoulder, her face suddenly full of pity. “I’m sorry to hear about The Glenn flooding. I hope you can find another venue on such short notice.”

“Thanks.”

The front door swished open and Deputy Connelly came barreling in. His face was white and sweaty. “Here it goes,” I whispered.

“Sheriff Taylor,” he shouted. “Come quick.”

The older man stood up. “Take a deep breath, Connelly. What’s the problem?”

Alarm bells sounded in my head.

“Jeremiah Bowers has been assaulted, and the pawnshop’s been robbed.”

An inky sickness brewed in my stomach.

“They took all the jewelry.”

I jumped to my feet knocking over the chair. Frustration boiled in me like water in an electric tea kettle—quickly and violently.

“All the jewelry?” I yelled.

Ruth looked at me askance, her mouth opened in shock.

“The rings,” I said to her. “Babel’s family heirlooms. Jeremiah was resizing them for me.” I grabbed my purse. “Sheriff, I’m coming with you.” I stared Sheriff Taylor dead in the eye, daring him to argue with me.

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Okay.”

****

Jeremiah wasn’t in
the shop because he’d been taken to Billy Bob’s clinic. Connelly said that Jeremiah had been listening to his MP3 player and hadn’t heard the perpetrator. He’d been clocked from behind and fell to the floor, unconscious.

I wandered around, begging my psychic ability to kick in and give me some useful information. At one point, I nearly knocked over a shelf full of sewing and quilting supplies, including bolts of muslin and fabric dye. Unfortunately, the pawnshop had too many personal objects, and all those feelings and flashes of images overwhelmed me. My heart broke as I relived the desperation of folks’ parting with items that had sentimental or historical value.

After only a few minutes, I had to leave.

Sheriff Taylor joined me outside and confirmed my worst fear. “I’m sorry, Sunny. They got everything, including your wedding rings.”

I burst into tears.

Chapter Five

7 days until the wedding...

I met Babe for
lunch at Sunny’s Outlook, the restaurant Chavvah and I owned together. It was small but cozy and only served vegetarian dishes. We had a great crowd today, and it warmed me to see we were really filling a niche in Peculiar.

Babel greeted me with a smile, and my mood instantly improved. He hadn’t really smiled since the rings had been stolen. “Good news,” he said.

“They found the wedding bands?”

He leaned down and kissed me. “Not that, but I do have a place for our rehearsal dinner.”

“Fantastic!”

“It’s not The Glenn, but there is plenty of room, and the lodge is renting us tables and chairs.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”

“The courthouse.”

“What?”

“The town council has approved the use of the basement auditorium.” He drew me in for a hug. “I know it’s not what you were hoping for.”

“It’s perfect,” I told him. “I’ll brainstorm with Chavvah and Ruth about the decorations and the set up.”

He smiled again, and I could tell it made him happy to solve one of our problems. Occasionally, men needed to solve a problem. Especially when it seemed like everything in their world was out of control.

“I am so pleased,” I told him. I leaned in close and put my hand on his upper thigh. “Tonight, I will show you just how much.”

A satisfying growl rumbled in his chest. “So, everything’s back to...normal?”

“I wouldn’t say normal, but close enough.”

****

6 days until the wedding...

The morning brought
me more good news. The small package I’d ordered on Wonderzin.com awaited me on the porch. Excitedly, I took it inside and opened the box. Inside, the box contained a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and My Beautiful Bella’s Hair Depilatory kit. Usually, the hair on my upper lip was blonde and fine, but since the pregnancy, it had gotten hairier and darker. I needed to do something about the little mustache growing in, but there was no way in hell I was letting wax touch my upper lip.

I patted Baby Trimmel. “You better be worth it, peanut.” I was kidding, but only a little. I’d been in a state of perpetual heartburn since the mystery meat sandwich at Blondina’s, and the extra salt had added to my bloating exponentially.

I sat on the stool in the bathroom. My complexion looked pretty good now that it was completely healed, and my hair, which I’d always thought was a little on the thin side, had a fullness about it that I loved. I’d have to dye it soon, the roots were started to show, but it was a lovely shade of golden blonde, and it really complimented my green eyes.

It startled me to realize I was having a good day. It was the first in a long while that I didn’t feel like an ugly ogre.

“Hmm.” I smiled and unscrewed the lid on the remover. The depilatory smelled like roses and acetone, but not that unpleasant.

The directions said to leave it on for seven minutes, which seemed like a really random timeline. After, I would need to clean the area with a warm, wet washcloth and finish the process with the neutralizer.

The white cream burned on application, which meant it was working. Five minutes into the seven, and I saw blisters starting to form under the thick lotion.

“Oh crap.” I turned on the faucet and began dousing my face with copious amounts of water. My lip started tingling and numbness replaced the burning. I opened the second tube and slathered it on, realizing too late that the company had sent two tubes of depilatory and no neutralizer.

“Noooooo!” The word was muffled under the ever-increasing swell of my lips that now practically touched my nose. “Dis can’t ee appening.”

“Hey, darling,” I heard Babel call from the living room.

I ran to him, tears streaking my cheeks, and cried, “Aaaaah!”

I stopped cold.

He stood there with Great Aunt Erma Jean and Celia Trimmel.

Babel did a double-take. “Oh, dear Lord.”

“Babe, put some ice in a plastic baggie,” said Celia. I could only call her response total mom mode. “Where do you keep your antihistamines?”

While I didn’t find Celia the warmest of people, I was desperate for someone else to be in charge of my life in that very moment. She led me to the couch and helped me sit down. In short order, she handed me the cold compress, water with a straw, and a diphenhydramine tablet.

I sniffled. “Tank Oo.”

Babe sat next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

Hah.

****

An hour later,
I was tired as hell, but at least the swelling hadn’t gotten worse and some of the feeling had returned to my upper lip. A quick call to Billy Bob reaffirmed Celia had done the right thing, and unfortunately, his miracle cream couldn’t cure this particular mess.

Celia and Erma Jean sat on the couch and stared at me. Celia looked concerned. The old lady practically vibrated with hostility. She pointed a gnarled finger at me.

“You are not meant to marry,” she said baldly. “Can’t you see the signs?”

Her words hung in the air as silence filled our living room. Babel’s face turned red, almost as red as mine had been days before. “I don’t believe in that nonsense,” he said with matter-of-fact determination.

The problem was, I did believe. I’d grown up with hippy-dippy mysticism crap during my formidable years, and I had an ability that could only be explained as something beyond this world. The fact that Babel was a shapeshifter, which pretty much screamed paranormal, didn’t seem to matter.

“Mom drove Auntie here so she could give the Sheriff a photograph of the rings,” explained Babel disrupting the tension. “They’re going to stay the night with us and return home tomorrow morning.”

“I’m sorry, Sunny,” Celia said. “We should have given you all more notice, but Auntie was really upset about her sister’s wedding bands.”

“They belong to Sunny now,” said Babel.

“Not until you speak the vows,” asserted Erma Jean. She grimaced. “My feet are tired and my back is sore. And I’m hungry.”

Exhaustion poured through me, but my inner hostess still surfaced. “I’ll throw something together for us.”

“No, you won’t,” said Babel firmly. “I’ll order take-out. You stay put and rest.”

He looked at his aunt. “Stop upsetting Sunny. Not another word about signs or canceling the wedding.”

Erma Jean waved him off. “Fine, fine.”

I appreciated Babel’s support and his determination. Yet, what if we were getting signs? What if there was some power beyond us that didn’t want Babe and I to wed? I could happily live with him in sin until we were old as dirt. It had worked for Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell.

Why wouldn’t it work for us?