Postcards from Cedar Key Read Free Page B

into fiber and then she hand dyes it, so that really saves me time. By the time she ships it to me, I’m able to just sit down and spin it.”
    â€œI see. And Chloe said that you have a small Internet business?”
    â€œYeah, I set up a website and I take orders and ship the yarn. A lot of my customers have particular requests for colors, and since Jill does the hand dyeing, I can accommodate them.”
    â€œWell, Chloe and I were talking, and we wondered if you might be interested in selling some of your yarn to us for the shop. We get quite a few tourists looking for hand-spun alpaca yarn in the hand-dyed colors.”
    I was certainly not one to turn away business. “Oh, that’s a great idea. Sure, I’d be very interested in doing that.” I rang up the sale and passed her the box.
    â€œOkay, then,” Dora said. “I’ll get with Chloe and we’ll have you come over to the yarn shop so that we can discuss details. Thank you for the chocolate.”
    â€œI hope you’ll enjoy it.”
    She turned at the door to give me a wide smile. “Oh, I have no doubt that I will.”
    After she left I walked to the table and rearranged the position of the crystal that Dora had picked up.
    Then I emptied the cash register, placing the money into the zippered bag that I’d drop at the bank in the morning, shut off the lights, locked the door, and headed back upstairs to my apartment.
    Not a bad first day, I thought, as I stepped into my living room and was immediately overcome with a sense of my mother’s presence. I heard Sigmund meow as my eyes flew to the mahogany credenza where I’d placed the marble urn containing the ashes of Jeanette Whitmore. Walking over, I reached out a finger to touch the smooth stone and traced an invisible circle along the side.
    â€œSorry, Mom,” I said out loud. “You’re staying put for a while. I’m not about to release you back into the universe until I get some answers.”

3
    I can’t say that I was overwhelmed with business the following day, but it was a steady flow of customers. Mostly tourists, but some of the locals also dropped by to meet me and sample my chocolate.
    Two of those locals were Sydney Webster and her daughter, Monica Brooks, along with Monica’s triplets and stepdaughter, Clarissa. I’d briefly met both women at the coffee café the previous year.
    â€œIt’s nice to see you’re open,” Sydney said, pushing the oversized stroller into the shop. “Welcome to Cedar Key. You remember my daughter, Monica? And this is my granddaughter, Clarissa, and Saren, Sidney, and Candace, my triplet grandchildren.”
    I smiled as a wave of melancholy came over me. Seeing the women together brought back childhood memories of walking Essex Street with my own mother, stopping in various shops. Although I had good memories of time spent with my mother when I was a child, we had been far from close. Her overprotectiveness accounted for part of the reason, with me always wanting to rebel. But unlike my grandmother, who showered me with affection, I always felt my mother withheld a part of herself from me. And that was only enforced the summer that she chose to go away and leave me behind.
    â€œYes,” I said. “I remember Grace introduced us last year. Gosh, these babies are growing way too fast.” I bent down to stroke their little hands.
    â€œThey certainly are.” Monica laughed. “They had their first birthday last month.”
    I stood up and noticed Clarissa beaming proudly at her siblings. “I bet you’re a great big sister. How old are you now?”
    â€œI’m eleven, and yeah, Monica says I’m a big help to her.”
    Monica ruffled the top of Clarissa’s head and smiled. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Now let’s get some chocolate. I think we earned it.”
    They made their choices as I filled the