Summerfield: Chapter 9

I woke early the next morning, determined to make this another productive day and one without distractions. After breakfast, I pulled on my dark jeans, a light blue blouse, and comfy slide sandals. After brushing out my hair and putting on makeup, I grabbed my purse and headed out the door.

I walked to the nearest home décor store which was really the only shop in town that sold furniture and decorations. I chose a large, stylish mirror with hammered bronze circles that floated around it. It would look great on the brick wall and would make the room seem even bigger. I was looking at some funky tall lamps when I spotted some elderly women staring at me from across the store and whispering. Normally, I would ignore them, but I thought, “Well, when in Rome…” and decided to open my mouth as apparently all small-town southerners do.

“Hi, I’m Amy. And you are?” I stuck my hand out at the shortest woman in the bunch; the woman in the middle who seemed like the ringleader. She looked shocked but then straightened up. “Mrs. Wilma Pinkerton and I know who you are. You’re Josh’s friend from New York.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Pinkerton,” I said while we shook hands. I figured I might as well kill them with kindness, especially if my business was ever going to take root here.

She just nodded and gestured to her friends, “This is Mrs. Booth and Mrs. Davidson.”

I nodded to them. “I’m starting up a coffee shop next to Josh’s bookstore.”

“How convenient. You’re starting up your business next to your boyfriend’s,” Mrs. Booth added.

“We’re just friends,” I pasted on a grin, but I was clearly annoyed.

The three ladies looked at each other conspiratorially as if they knew something I didn’t know.

“Alright, well, you guys have a good day,” I stammered awkwardly and walked away as they laughed at my expense.