Maybe it was just easier to overlook the things people didn’t comfortably see? After all, Ward Montgomery was a beloved figure in their town, always there with last-minute salt, shovels, and that goddamn crumb cake that made the town believe he was a normal man.
She gave a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll put a shovel aside for you.”
Thankfully, the pharmacist reappeared with her dad’s prescription. The sleeping pills were the only thing keeping her sane—not that she needed help sleeping but, if she expected to have any sort of peace, her father needed the pills.
“Great, I’ll swing by later today and grab it. Thanks.”
“Daddy, can we get candy?” the little girl, Maeve, called.
“No, put it back and don’t touch anything else.” He turned back to Erin. “Hey, my, uh, cousin, Giovanni, is back in town. He’s performing at O’Malley’s tonight if you want to stop by. We’re all gonna be there.”
She frowned, once again worried for his memory. He spoke as if she was a part of the old gang, which they both knew she wasn’t. Realizing he was probably just being polite, she ignored the awkward invite and turned the topic to his cousin—a founding member of the anti-Erin club. “Is Giovanni in a band?”
“No,” Finn chuckled. “He’s trying his hand at standup. He’s been doing open-mic-nights around the city and apparently, he’s pretty funny.”
Giovanni Mosconi always thought he was funnier than he actually was. When they were in high school he used to pick on her constantly. Erin hated hanging out with him when she and Finn were dating. He could make a joke out of a broom, saying something like, “Hey Erin, I found your bitch stick. Don’t you need this to get home?”
His jokes never struck her as funny, just cruel. “Is he any good?”
Finn shrugged. “I haven’t seen him perform yet. I’m sure he’ll get a few laughs. He has no shame.”
She first thought how fun it would be to watch Giovanni humiliate himself. He’d spent plenty of time embarrassing her when they were kids. But her second thought was how lonely it would be to visit O’Malley’s and sit alone while her entire graduating class watched the show with spouses.
“I’ll see if I have plans.”
“Come on, Erin. Come out. You can sit with us.”
She couldn’t do that. As much as she appreciated Finn’s offer, his family was not a fan of hers.
“I’ll try.” Picking up the medicine, she smiled. “I have to get back to the store.”
“Okay. Tell Ward I said hey.”
Her brow pinched as she left the pharmacy. She’d never understand why so many of the locals cared about her father. It was pathetic how many people could be bought off with a few measly cinnamon-flavored crumbs and a pot of shitty coffee.
When she returned to the hardware store, the bell over the front door jingled. Her father’s gruff voice carried from the back as he explained how to replace a drain washer to a customer.
“You’re gonna need a pair of channel locks to unscrew the stem once you get the knob off, but that’s simple. After you get the stem out, slip the new washer into place, and put it back together again. That should clear up that leaky faucet for you.”
“Thanks, Ward. Can you point me to the channel locks?”
“Right this way. Doesn’t your husband have a tool set?”
Erin rolled her eyes. No matter how much of a charmer he could be, his view of women and their limited value sometimes seeped through.
The woman chuckled. “I like to have my own tools.”
Erin’s dad grumbled. “Well, here you are.”
As he walked her to the front of the store, Erin recognized the beautiful woman as Perrin Harris, now Perrin King, one of the new owners of O’Malley’s. She rang up the order and smiled tightly as she swiped her credit card.
Erin tore off the receipt and stuffed the washer and channel locks into a bag. “Have a nice day.”
The woman’s eyes lifted and something like distrust danced in her stare. “Thanks.” She turned to leave and yelled, “Thanks, Ward.”
“Make sure you take a slice of cake on your way out.”
Perrin paused at the coffee station and crooned over the dessert dish. She sliced a piece of cake onto a napkin and took a bite, humming happily as she left the store. Erin’s molars locked.
She once read an article about the treatment of confined cattle in the US. The article claimed people consumed the cows’ depression. Yet, everyone smiled and hummed whenever they ate that miserable, godforsaken crumb cake she made each day.
“Did you get my pills?”
“They’re in my purse.”
“Took you long enough.”
“Finnegan McCullough’s stopping by for a shovel later. I told him we’d put one aside for him.”
“So long as he knows he’s paying for it. We’re not running a soup kitchen. Go unload the pallets in the back.”