“Oh!” she said, clapping her hands together and startling Marigold and me. “Speaking of playgroup, you should come to Splash Park Tuesdays! All the moms and dads gather there with babies under two. It’s a day set aside for the littlest ones so they don’t get trampled. I’ll swing by and pick you up. Be sure to bring plenty of sunscreen and a hat. My heart would break if that perfect skin got a sunburn.”
Surely her mom group didn’t want me tagging along. I could only imagine the hushed gasps when the big hairy tattooed guy walked up.
“Uh… I’ll think about it.”
She shot me a look that said there was no thinking necessary. “You’re coming with me. Deal with it.”
My eyes shot wide in surprise. She kind of reminded me of my sister. Beautiful and a little frail-looking from the outside but tough as nails on the inside.
“Yes, sir,” I mumbled, leaning down to brush an ant off the table near Marigold’s hand.
“Good. Now that’s settled, let me tell you why I stopped by today.”
I blinked up at her just as Lloyd crowed at top volume from the chicken pen. “Ignore him,” I said. “He gets pissy if he hears me talking to someone for too long. I’d say it’s jealousy, but he hates my guts. Parrish says Lloyd is jealous of any attention I give to someone else, which… I’m not sure I agree since Lloyd doesn’t mind it when I give affection to the hens.” I stopped and realized I was giving a near stranger way too much information. “Sorry. Go ahead. Are you looking for spare parts?”
Her forehead crinkled. “What? Oh, no. Not at all. I was at a Beautification Corps meeting this morning where it was decided that the jun… salvage yard could use our help.”
I tilted my head. “I don’t understand.”
“You see, since Mal’s sign made such a big splash last year, and his work has been bringing in all kinds of new interest in found-object art, we—that is, the Licking Thicket Beautification Corps—recognize that your… salvage yard has become somewhat of a destination for tourists.”
I nodded. It was true. Business was booming for me, and much of it could be traced back to Mal and that sign. I owed him big-time and had made it clear that he could pretty much take whatever he wanted for free at this point as long as he kept spreading the word about my place.
Ava continued. “So, we have a budget allotment to help spruce up the place.”
“What place?” I asked, feeling stupid. “This place?” My voice sounded a little high. I tried again. “You want to spruce up the salvage yard?”
She nodded happily. “Exactly. Fresh paint on the… house, some new planters with colorful flowers spilling out…” She cooed at my niece. “Maybe some marigolds, even. And an all-new sign. We want to make this place aesthetically pleasing and representative of the new and improved Licking Thicket.”
“Did you come here from the Tavern?” I asked carefully. It wasn’t polite to accuse a lady of being day drunk, but all signs pointed in that direction. “Do you want me to call Paul to come get you?”
She furrowed her brows again. “Well… it is hot out here, and I have walked a long way today already. This baby weight is a total bitch.”
I stood up and put Marigold on my hip. “Why don’t we go inside and I’ll fix us an iced coffee?”
Ava was busy finger-typing into her phone. “Hang on. I’m going to see if Mal will make the new sign for us, and I think Brooks’s brother, Dunn, will build us the planters. He’s handy like that.”
“You’re serious?” I asked.
“Sarabeth Kelly was the one who came up with the idea, but then it was a unanimous vote. I think it’s because you’re so close to town and they saw you’d already been working on it yourself by putting up this nice new fence. Ooh! Maybe we could find someone to paint a mural on the fence. A pastoral scene representative of the area.”
“No cows,” I said, remembering the hallway of horrors I’d seen at Brooks’s parents’ house when I’d delivered a condenser coil for their fridge. “Maybe chickens, though. My friend Parrish says…”
I stopped when I realized I’d mentioned Parrish three times too many.
Ava narrowed her eyes at me and then focused on the cute butterfly romper Marigold was wearing. I could almost see the little cogs snapping into place.
Oh hell.
“Parrish, hm?” She tapped her chin with the pad of her pointer finger. “Did he give her that outfit? Did it come from Kinder-potamus?”
I felt my heart rate kick up. “How about that iced coffee? I have low-fat milk and Splenda.”
I turned to head toward the house. The telltale crunch of her stroller wheels on gravel followed me. “How do you know Parrish?” she asked.