Page 66 of Passing Notes
“This is something else,” I remarked as I took it all in.
“The QR code was my idea,” Gracie informed me as she sorted lavender wands and crowns into neat piles.
“She’s a little entrepreneur, isn’t she?” Momma beamed with pride. She’d come so far since she started seeing her therapist. It was only a couple years ago she’d grounded Gracie for taking on jobs outside of the farm. “She has you to thank for that, doesn’t she?”
“Uh, yeah. I guess so,” I muttered. I let my eyes drift across the festival; I was not in the best head space today. The idea of being around this many people was daunting. I squinted, trying to make out someone in the distance. Was that Malcolm?
“That’s the dick from your old office, isn’t it?” Gracie hissed in my ear. “What the hell is he doing here?”
I nodded as I zeroed in on him buying a bunch of cotton candy at a booth across the way from ours.
Momma was oblivious, sorting through tea bags with her back turned. “Well, I’m proud of you too, Clara. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I’m sorry for a lot?—”
“It’s okay,” I said as I refocused on her. “You don’t have to keep saying you’re sorry.”
She turned. “If you want me to stop, I will.” Her smile was soft. “But when things come up that remind me of my mistakes it’s hard not to.”
Our eyes met. “I think I understand. On second thought, it might be a good thing. As long as it makes you feel better too.”
I was still shaken by the Malcolm sighting, but I remembered his mother lived in Green Valley somewhere and relaxed a bit. Why would he be here for me?
“Don’t worry about me, sugar. How are you? You look tired.”
“I’ve been going through some things?—”
“She just spotted her old co-worker who sexually harassed her,” Gracie told her. I gave her a hard glare that told her exactly how I felt about her divulging this information to our mother. “What? Maybe she can find him and destroy him mentally or something.”
“Is he giving you trouble? You can always come stay at the farm with me and my shotgun.” Threatening to shoot a fool was always her default reaction. It made me laugh. It also kind of made me wonder if she’d ever done it; her temper used to be horrible.
I waved a hand in dismissal. “No, it’s fine. I just spotted him near the cotton candy is all. He has family in the area, I’m not worried about him. He didn’t see me.”
“Oh! Maybe I should have gone to her about Marianne and the bully bitch trio,” Gracie joked. “Problem solved on first day of school. Boom!”
“Marianne?” She turned from the counter to face Gracie. “Marianne Tanner?”
“That’s the one,” Gracie confirmed. Her eyes went wide. “Wait, don’t shoot her. Be reasonable. How advanced are you in your therapy? Like, my anger management class has me pretty Zen about all this—most of the time, anyway.”
“I won’t shoot her. But I can’t guarantee a reasonable reaction yet,” she teased. “I may need more therapy for that. Listen, I’ll talk to her mother next time she comes to the farm to get her sleepy tea and lavender pillow spray. Marianne won’t bother you anymore if I threaten to cut her mother off. She likes her sleep. She’s forever droning on and on about it whenever we stop to have a chat. And there’s no need to mention the fact that she’s been seen swapping spit with a man who is decidedly not her husband. One of those little tidbits ought to be enough for her to get her daughter under control. I’ll start with the first and if Marianne is still bothering you, I’ll move to the second. I guess I have learned something from therapy,” she joked. “The old me would have gone scorched earth.”
“Hell yeah!” Gracie pointed in the distance. “Now do Mr. Neal. He’s over there getting a funnel cake, the stupid, cranky, old grouch.”
My mom stopped and turned. “Do you mean Geoffrey Neal?”
“Uh, yeah ...” Gracie and I exchanged a look.
“Do you know him?” I asked, dying of curiosity given we didn’t know much about our mother’s past. “How? Tell us?”
“I dumped him during my senior year of high school to date your father,” she informed us. “He didn’t take it very well. It’s debatable who would have been the better choice, isn’t it?” She rolled her eyes. “Is he giving you trouble?”
“Only since forever, and I guess now we know why,” I answered. “It started in high school and again when I moved into my house down the street from him. He’s meaner than a damn snake. He used to call us hillbilly trash. He slut-shamed Sadie out of the library for getting pregnant by her dumbass ex, for eff’s sake.”
“He’s still a total asshole,” Gracie confirmed. “Everyone hates him. I had to start stealing books instead of checking them out because he wouldn’t stop asking me if I could actually read.”
“Gracie!” I chided. “I’ll buy you all the books you want. Don’t steal.”
“No need.” She rolled her eyes at me. “I bring them back when I’m done. I just don’t let him scan them into the system. I don’t need to put up with his shit, and I like the idea of him looking around for missing books and wondering where they went.”
“Well, that’s okay then.” I hugged her into my side. “I can respect that.”