The kid nods. “That’s right. Jezebel. Tabby’s a lady. She should be treated like a lady.”
“I agree.” My voice is a low rumble, and Jimmy keeps a safe distance between us as he heads for the door.
“Remember this…” He steps forward slightly. “I’m watching you.”
I straighten to my full height so he gets the picture. “That so?”
He fumbles with the door handle and heads out fast. I look back at Robbie, who’s leaning over his desk again, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“He’s watching me.”
Robbie nods. “That Tabby Green must be something pretty special.”
Catching the door handle, I don’t have to think about it. “She is.”
Eleven
Tabby
The sun is making its way down the sky as I lock up the bakery, and Coco is skipping around on the front porch, Molly the Dolly safely in her arms.
“Don’t leave her anywhere else, okay?” We had to make a special trip to Emberly’s apartment over the store to retrieve the rag doll my little guest can’t live without. “I’m surprised your mama didn’t make sure you had it.”
“She put her in my suitcase, but Molly doesn’t like the dark. So I took her out.”
“I see.”
Emberly had packed Coco a tiny, pink suitcase with wheels monogrammed with a fancy CCW for Colette Corinne Warren. It contains a nightgown, tiny panties, a change of clothes, and more toys than any kid needs for a one-night sleepover… but no Molly the Dolly.
“Want a poboy for dinner?” I slip the key in the pocket of my black capris and straighten the hem of my tight red sweater.
It’s short sleeved and light, just right for this warm night, and it matches my red lipstick perfectly. The black is fading out of my hair, and I’m trying to decide if I want to redo it or let it be brown for the first time in forever. My natural highlights are starting to show and my bangs are to my jaw now, taking the edge off my usual Bettie Page.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Coco hops in time with every yes, one little fist pumping over her head. “I want mac and cheese.”
“Wait.” I pause. “Mac and cheese or poboys?”
“Both!”
I give her a frown then decide to see what André can do with that order. He is the master, after all, and I’m all about keeping Princess Coco the Kangaroo happy while her mom’s out of town.
I’m just turning to the bike when I slam into Daisy Sales. My heart plunges to my feet. We haven’t spoken since Travis the Cheater left town last year.
“Oh!” Daisy steps back, nearly dropping the open catalog in her hands. “I didn’t see you!” Her voice is loud and too high, and I think she might be as wigged out seeing me as I am seeing her.
“Melody!” Coco stops hopping and runs to grab Daisy’s blonde toddler in a hug.
The little girl fusses, trying to push out of the embrace.
“Melly, give Coco a hug!” Daisy drops to a squat, catching her daughter’s waving arms. “Sorry, Coco. She’s been fussy all day.”
“Mama says babies are fussy.” Coco nods as if she’s an expert. “She calls it the terrible twos.”
I’d laugh if I weren’t still getting over bumping into my nemesis. “Melody’s three now, isn’t she?”
Daisy stands, smoothing her hands down the front of the flowered sundress she’s wearing. Her straw-colored hair is stick straight, and I can tell she tried to braid it to get some waves in there. A few telltale ripples are around her temples.
“Next week.” Her hands shake, and now I know she’s nervous. “I was going to talk to Emberly about a birthday cake. Is she out of town?”