Lost and Found in Lavender Bay (The Lavender Bay Chronicles #2)

6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

D espite the backyard being cleaned up, the raccoon continued to show up daily, either late at night or early in the morning. For a smaller animal, he was noisy, getting into things he shouldn’t and making a racket as he rooted around for food. They had to move the wheelie bins inside the garage as a temporary fix because somehow he managed to get the lid open and get stuck inside. Maureen had had to go out and tip the bin on its side so the raccoon could make a run for it. She wasn’t keen on the bins being kept in the garage with all her fabrics, paints, and rolls of wallpaper, so she went into the hardware store in town and ordered a storage unit for the wheelie bins that could be kept on the side of the garage. Delivery was scheduled for seven to ten days.

Since she was in town, she decided to walk over to Coffee Girl to see her sister Angie. She walked down the length of Oak until she hit Main Street, turning left and walking past her aunt’s antique shop, eventually reaching her sister’s coffee shop at the corner of Main and Cedar .

Although the sun was out in full force, there was no warmth. The air still had a nip to it. Angie stood outside her shop in her usual work attire: jeans and a T-shirt, and had her hair clipped up in a messy bun. Her arms were folded across her chest as she talked to the guy who owned the café across the street: Java Joe’s.

Java Joe himself wasn’t bad to look at. Tall and muscular with a neatly trimmed beard and short-cropped dark hair. There was a rumor that his entire back was covered in a tattoo of the American flag and a bald eagle.

As Maureen got closer, she picked up on the clipped tone of her sister’s voice. Angie had taken it personally that Java Joe had opened up his café directly across the street from hers. Maureen and Nadine had discussed this a few times, deciding that their younger sister needed to cut him some slack. There was definitely room for two cafés in Lavender Bay, even if they were across the street from one another.

She approached her sister as Java Joe was taking his leave. “Think about it, Evangeline,” he said.

Angie snorted. “I have thought about it.”

But he ignored her, stepping off the curb to cross the street. “I’ll give you a few days,” he called over his shoulder.

Maureen came to stand at Angie’s side. “What was that about?”

Angie rolled her eyes. “That man is a dreamer. He’s been hired to cater a bridal shower and he wants me to do the desserts.”

“Like a team effort.”

Angie glared at her. “We are NOT a team.”

“Okay. Message received. ”

Angie did not take her eyes off the retreating back of Java Joe. Maureen arched an eyebrow.

“He would pay you, right?”

“Of course. And handsomely, but I said no.”

“But why?” Of the four sisters, Angie was the one most prone to getting her nose out of joint, at times even cutting off her nose to spite her face.

“Because he’s the competition. I don’t want him to think he and I could work together.”

Maureen winced. “Sometimes I worry about you, Angie.”

“Don’t, I’m fine.”

Maureen was about to ask if Angie could recommend someone to get rid of that pesky raccoon, but they were interrupted.

“The coffee and pastry won’t get made out on the sidewalk, Evangeline,” said a croaky voice.

The two sisters turned to the owner of the voice, and both broke into smiles. Well, Maureen smiled, and Angie wore a bemused expression.

“Good morning, Mrs. B,” Angie said.

“And to you two as well.” Edith Bermingham, or Mrs. B, as she was called, sported a pair of dark slacks, a short-sleeved lavender blouse beneath a khaki-colored London Fog raincoat, and a faint cloud of Chanel No. 5. She slid her oversized sunglasses down her eighty-four-year-old nose and looked directly at Angie. “Did I see you talking to that Java Joe?”

“You did.”

“He’s got a little goldmine over there,” Mrs. B observed.

Angie scowled, but Mrs. B continued talking .

“I always liked a man with money. My third husband had a lot of it, and I think that’s why I loved him best out of all of them.”

Mrs. B was refreshingly honest, that was for sure, Maureen thought.

“Now, why are we standing out here on the sidewalk in broad daylight?” The older woman’s gaze swung from Angie to Maureen and then back again.

“We’re just on our way in, Mrs. B.” With a smile, Angie said, “Unless you’d rather go to Java Joe’s for something to eat.”

Mrs. B glanced across the street. “I’m not tempted by a breakfast sandwich or whatever they call it—a slice of lightly buttered toast with some orange marmalade will do nicely, thank you—but I’m tempted to go in if only to ogle that Java Joe.” She shook her head and announced, “Mmm-mmm. He’s a mighty fine-looking man.” She leveled her gaze at Angie. “If you’d stop feuding with him, you could walk over and see what he’s got on display.”

Now both sisters burst out laughing.

Mrs. B went on. “There’s something to be said for a bad boy.” She went quiet for a moment, and then said, more to herself than anyone else, “I wonder if he owns a motorcycle.”

Maureen had to stifle a laugh. Angie rolled her eyes, smiling. “Come on in, Mrs. B, I’ve got a fresh batch of those cinnamon rolls with the cream cheese frosting you like so much.”

“I do. Let’s go, you can’t keep someone my age waiting. Every minute is precious.”

Maureen followed them inside, inhaling the aromas of vanilla, baked sugar, and freshly ground coffee. This had to be one of the best-smelling places in town. She decided she’d like a coffee and one of those cinnamon rolls. In fact, Mrs. B asked her to join her, and she did, enjoying a pleasant conversation. She should do this more often, she thought: take the time to sit in a coffee shop and talk with people.

As she was walking out of Coffee Girl, she ran into Edna Knickerbocker, Mrs. B’s older sister. The two elderly sisters hadn’t spoken to each other in decades.

“Good morning, Maureen,” Edna said. “Your mother told me you’re having problems with a raccoon.”

Maureen laughed. “Good news travels fast.”

Not reading her sarcasm, Edna agreed. “It sure does. Did you get rid of him?”

“Not yet. Angie gave me the name of someone who will remove him humanely.”

“Why waste your money when you can do it yourself?” Edna asked, and then added proudly, “I did.”

“But isn’t it against the law to relocate raccoons?” Maureen asked.

“Don’t pay any attention to that.” Edna waved her hand as if lawbreaking wasn’t anything to be worried about.

Maureen raised an eyebrow. She’d never been a lawbreaker, and she certainly wasn’t going to start now.

“Over the years,” Edna explained, “I’ve had problems with squirrels and raccoons. I set the trap out, put some walnuts or peanuts in it, capture them, put them in the trunk of my car, and take them over to Lavender Hill Park. ”

It seemed like a lot of work to Maureen. It would be well worth the money to pay someone to do it for her.

Edna was still speaking. “The park is a great place. They all love it over there.”

Maureen was half-tempted to ask how Edna knew they loved it. Did the relocated squirrels and raccoons send her a thank-you note? Did she do a post-relocation survey?

Edna opened the café door. “If you want to do it yourself, call me. I can lend you the traps. I may even have some leftover peanuts and walnuts. I bought them in bulk, you see. Now, I must go in for my triple-shot Americano and a glazed donut. I have a lot of work to do at home today, thus the triple shot. If it was an easy day, I’d go for the decaf.”

“That’s good to know,” Maureen replied, unsure of what kind of response Edna wanted from her, if any.

“Anyway, call me if you want a trap.”

“Thanks, I will.”

Edna waved her hand. “Ta-ta!”

Take-out coffee in hand, Maureen headed toward the beach.