many of my weekends painting scenery. Mirandaâs a great seamstress when push comes to shove, and Brad can usually get the lights working for an entire performance. Ken and a couple of fellow cops keep the stage from collapsing around their heads. Itâs an old theater in a not very desirable part of town. Though the city enforces the building codes, it doesnât see fit to help pay for any of the costs.â
âSounds wonderful and challenging.â There was a glow in Gordonâs pale hazel eyes.
âYou sound like my mother.â Her mother got that same glow in her eyes when she talked about the theater.
Before Gordon could reply, two women walked into the shop. Gordon glanced at the customers and muttered something under his breath that she didnât quite catch.
âGordon,â called the heavyset woman, âIâm here to pick up Royâs order.â
Gordon gave Juliet an apologetic look. âExcuse me for a moment. Iâll be right back.â
âTake your time. Iâm fine.â Juliet smiled pleasantly at the woman. The other customer was lost from sight.
He went out to the front part of the shop, where Priscilla Patterson stood waiting. âGood afternoon, Priscilla.â He spotted the bird-like figure hiding behind Priscillaâs bulk. âNorma.â The two women, though totally opposite in appearances, went everywhere together. He once referred to them as mismatched bookends.
âDid we interrupt something?â Priscilla was staring at Juliet and the tray of snacks.
Gordon rolled his eyes and winked at his daughter. This was going to get sticky. âPriscilla and Norma, I would like you to meet Juliet Carlyle.â How was he supposed to introduce his daughter. âJulietâs the daughter of an old acquaintance of mine.â It was the truth.
Juliet stood up and smiled. âHello.â
He hurried over to the wall humidor and found Roy Pattersonâs standard weekly order: a small tin of McClelland Arcadia and pouch of Sir Walter Raleigh Aromatic. Roy was one of the locals who had convinced him to keep the tobacco part of the shop open. Roy couldnât play chess worth a damn, but he appreciated fine tobacco.
âWhat brings you to Misty Harbor, Juliet?â Priscilla couldnât care less about her husbandâs tobacco. She wasnât known to be the townâs biggest gossip for nothing.
âIâve never been to Maine, and I heard this area was lovely.â
âAre you just visiting, or do you plan on staying?â
âJust a short visit.â
âHereâs the order, Priscilla. Is there anything else I can get you?â He wanted Priscilla and Norma gone. He wanted to spend the day getting to know his daughter. Too late he realized he should have put the CLOSED sign up on the door of the shop. He headed for the cash register, hopefully to ring up Royâs order. Priscilla never lingered in his store because he never had anything new or interesting to tell her.
âRoyâs birthday is coming up,â Priscilla said as she glanced around the shop. âIâve been thinking about buying him a new pipe, but I donât know which one he would like.â
He froze and slowly turned to Priscilla. More than twenty-five years he had been running this shop, and never once had Priscilla taken any interest in Royâs tobacco choices or pipes. âRoy usually picks out his own pipes.â
âI know, but I wanted to surprise him this year.â Priscillaâs gaze wasnât on the pipe display case. It was darting back and forth between him and Juliet, measuring and studying.
Normaâs hungry gaze was locked on the cookies.
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It took him an hour, all the cookies, and a trip upstairs for more soda and crackers, but he finally got Priscilla and Norma out of the shop. He also ended up selling Priscilla the top-of-the-line Peterson pipe that was going to make Roy one