Be Sweet

Chapter One If I'd worn my ruby slippers today, I'd click those babies together three times and chant, "There's no place like home." Unfortunately, it won't work for me. Number one, my name isn't Dorothy. Number two, I don't own a pair of ruby slippers, and, last but not least, my home is in Maine, not Kansas. Okay, so I'm not in Maine either. I'm on my way to my sister's house, which happens to be in my hometown of Tappery, Michigan. A couple of miles from her house, I've stopped at Lighthouse Bakery to buy some cookies. My taste buds can no longer abide store-bought sweets, so bakeries are my constant friend. Back in Maine I own a beautiful oceanfront property, have more money than I need, and I feel confident and in control. Yet when I come back to Tappery and see glimpses of my past--the love I never thought would end, the miscarriage, pain, affair, separation, divorce, and shame--my confidence shatters into a million pieces. Hence, the cookies. Which brings me to my current dilemma of hiding behind a cardboard cookie display while Gail Campbell, a.k.a. former high school class gossip queen, heads straight toward me. Standing at five-eight and with honey-blonde hair that brushed my shoulders--and still does--the senior class voted me a Michelle Pfeiffer look-alike--an honor Gail always resented. No doubt she's already noticed my extra twenty pounds. There's no place like home. There's no place-- "Well, Charlene Kaiser--it is Kaiser, isn't it?--what on earth are you doing in Tappery? Or have you finally come to your senses and moved back home?" She laughs at herself, but I don't join her. Well, not until she snorts anyway. Dressed in a black leather miniskirt, tight-fitting blouse, and tall spiky heels, she prances toward me lugging a baby on her hip. Perfect round cir cles of red blush dot each of Gail's cheeks, and her eyelids glitter a bright blue, making me wonder if the bulbs blew on her makeup mirror. Stepping casually out from behind the fake cookie and almost knocking it over, I flash a wide smile. "Actually, I came home to help with the syrup harvest and to help plan a family gathering." She hesitates, no doubt hoping I'll tell her more, but I don't. "Oh, so where do you live now?" she asks, while quickly assessing my hips. " Seafoam, Maine." "Are you married, working, both?" She acts all hyper here. "We've got to catch up, girl." Oh, I'm sure you'd love whatever tidbit of gossip you can get. "I sell commercial real estate," I say, taking note that her eyes widen enough to satisfy me. "I don't understand how all that works. Must be hard to move commercial property. I imagine there are some pretty lean times," she says, looking hopeful. "Actually, it's quite a lucrative job, if you do it well." I'm pretty sure I hear a harrumph while she studies me. The ball's in my court, and I'm practically rocking on my heels. "Oh, and I've taken my maiden name of Haverford back." Gail's Barbie eyebrows spike into upside-down V s. "Oh? Never remarried?" She leans in for my answer and holds her breath. "Nope." Before I can stop myself, I look at the little girl on her hip and say, "A baby at your age?" Her eyelids flutter, and she shifts the baby on her hip. "This is my granddaughter, Carrie Matilda." It's hard to miss the emphasis on the middle name. "You may recall my middle name is Matilda." "How nice for you." A tiny pause. "She's, um, sweet." Poor kid can't help it if she has her grandma's beady eyes, and I'm not even going to mention the pointy nose. That would be rude. "It's too bad you don't have any grandkids. They're the greatest." Her hand flies to her mouth in mock apology. "Oh, sorry." She knocks the wind out of my lungs in one blow. We both know there will be no grandchildren, becauHunt, Diann is the author of 'Be Sweet ', published 2007 under ISBN 9781595541949 and ISBN 1595541942.