“Thank you,” Matt said, his voice thick with emotion. “We appreciate that. We’ll talk with you about the…about Steve…after. Later.” He nodded his head toward the rest of the store where a few more people had come in. “Not today,” he said.
Mandaline nodded. “Agreed.” She took a deep breath. “Tomorrow,” she said. “Ten o’clock. Bright and early.” When it looked like they might try to argue again, she said, “We can’t cancel the classes and clients we have tomorrow afternoon. I don’t want to, Julie wouldn’t want us to, and we all need the distraction. So please, come by at ten and we’ll be able to talk. I’ll have Sachi here to watch the store.”
“Okay,” Sami said. “Thank you.”
Mandaline made the rounds, accepting hugs and nearly identical words of sympathy from everyone. She was acutely aware of Libbie, Grover, Sachi, and the others all keeping close tabs on her, mentally hovering if not standing right behind her.
Under other circumstances, she would have laughed.
I feel like you’ve just made me grow up fast, lady, she mentally told Julie.
Julie had inadvertently saved her life, too. When Grover drove Mandaline out to her trailer the next day to check on it and pick up a few things, she found a tree had lost the battle with the wind and collapsed on the bedroom end of the trailer.
The only piece of furniture she cared about saving was an antique secretary cabinet, which had belonged to her grandmother. The rest of it was all secondhand furniture, or cheap discount store crap she didn’t care about. She salvaged her clothes and the rest of her belongings and felt grateful to her friend once again. The rest of the furniture, what wasn’t in the bedroom and didn’t get wet, she sold, or gave away to other storm victims, or just abandoned there.
Now, Many Blessings was her business and her home.
The store was filled beyond capacity by the time eleven o’clock arrived. With Sachi standing on one side of her and Libbie on the other, Mandaline read in a shaky voice a letter Julie had left for her friends, the only thing she’d wanted officially read at her wake. The only funeral she wanted, other than her friends to make each other laugh and smile with shared stories. Instead of flowers, she asked everyone to donate to the local animal shelter or other charity of their choice.
“I go on to the Summerland, friends. I don’t want you to shed tears. I want you to be happy. I hope that when you think of me, that I was able to make a positive impact in your life. I want you to go forth and carry that spirit on to others. I want you to smile, and laugh, and dream, and believe. Always believe. I want you to be grateful every day. I want your smiles to light the darkness. Above all, I want you all to know how loved you were, and how many blessings you brought to my life. Namaste. Blessed Be. Merry Meet and Merry Part, and Merry Meet again. Love and Light.”
Mandaline barely got through it, hardly able read the words on the paper through the tears welling in her eyes. When she finished, she looked up at the crowd filling the shop.
“Thank you all for coming today. Julie didn’t want any kind of a formal service. But Grover talked to the county and received permission for us to plant an oak tree in her memory over at the library. They’re going to mark a place for us to plant it, and they’ve offered to put up a plaque there in memory of her. We’ll do that this Saturday at noon. It’s a full moon. So anyone who wants to join us over there, please feel free to do so.”
She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I know I don’t hold the monopoly on grief over her loss. She touched us all by being in our lives. Please feel free to come up to her urn and have a moment with her, if you wish. Thank you.”
She somehow made it through the afternoon. By the time the last mourners left around three o’clock, Mandaline, Libbie, Grover, and the others felt drained.
Sachi hugged Mandaline. “Why don’t you go upstairs and rest? We’ll clean up down here.”
Mandaline glanced around. The store shelves looked nearly naked, but she suspected no one had stolen anything. Mina had quietly manned the register nonstop, ringing up customer after customer. “Clean up what?” She let out a laugh. “Probably our best day in a while.”
Sachi soberly nodded. “We did over seven grand.”
Mandaline had to grab the counter. “Are you serious?”
Mina chuckled. “I had her come in and double-check the numbers for me when I cashed out. I couldn’t believe it, either.”
“And the class schedule, as well as all the readers, is booked solid for weeks. Everyone prepaid.” Sachi coughed. “The seven grand doesn’t include the class and reader fees.” Class and reading fees were split between the store and the teachers and readers.
That meant even more money had come in.
Overwhelmed, Mandaline had to sit down. The shop’s income had always paid its own bills and payroll, but Julie’s main income was from the investments she’d inherited from her family. The shop was more her passion than her profession, although her business degree helped her run it efficiently and profitably.
“I’ll come in early tomorrow and do a full inventory,” Sachi said. “We were scheduled to do one next month anyway. Get our replenishment orders put together.”
“I’ll help,” Mina volunteered.
Mandaline, still in shock, simply nodded.
Summers were notoriously slow. It wasn’t quite summer yet, but the snowbirds had mostly departed for northern climes. Their daily take today, in just a few short hours, was more than the equivalent of an entire busy weekend during the brisk winter holiday shopping season.
Mandaline closed her eyes. Thank you, Julie. And thank you, Goddess.
She opened her eyes at the sound of the bell on the front door tinkling.
Two guys walked in. If she hadn’t been grief-stricken, she knew her heart would have skipped a beat. Both over six feet tall, handsome, one a blue-eyed blond with neatly styled hair, the other with shaggy brown hair and brown eyes.
Libbie hurried up to them. “I’m sorry, but the store’s closed today.”
The blond man frowned. “We were supposed to meet with Julie today to talk. We have an appointment.” He held up a card.
The silence following the collective gasp as everyone turned to look at them nearly deafened Mandaline.
She stood and walked over. “It’s okay, Libbie. I’ve got it.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’m sorry. Julie…died last Thursday. Unexpectedly. We just finished having her wake.” She couldn’t quite make herself say “raped and murdered” yet to describe Julie’s death.
“Died unexpectedly” could fall from her mouth without her bursting into tears.
The blond man’s frown disappeared, replaced by a somber look. The brunet looked completely crestfallen. “I’m so sorry,” the blond said. “We didn’t know. How did it happen?”
Behind her, Grover cleared his throat. “Mandaline, honey, why don’t you let me—”
“No,” she softly said. “It’s all right, Grover. I can’t ask you to babysit me all the time. This is going to happen and I need to be able to handle it.” She took another deep breath and turned back to the men. “She was…killed last Thursday.”
Now blondie looked shocked. “I–I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t watch the news, do you?” Grover angrily snapped.
She put a hand on Grover’s arm, but the blond man now stared at the floor. “We just got back from Tampa this morning,” he explained. “We were down there for the storm, from Wednesday on, and Bradley just spent the past two days at the VA hospital there for some tests. We stayed with my folks in Tampa instead of coming back up here last weekend.”
Mandaline guessed Bradley was the brunet, who now wiped tears from his eyes.