Back From Vegas

DH and I are fine. We left Las Vegas last Friday, long before the asshole opened fire at the UNLV campus on Wednesday. We're still exhausted from the trip, and I'm playing catch-up on things.

Like giving the dogs a bath. Bella and Blaze came home with a funky smell from the other dogs at the puppy hotel despite being groomed yesterday.

In the meantime, the Justice books are on sale for one more day because I didn't get around to taking them off sale early this morning.

Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice will be $0.99 until the end of the year.

I need to get the Millersburg Magick Mysteries to the Kickstarter backers. (I re-edited the last two while DH drove.) I also need to finish this year's Christmas story before my cataract surgery next Wednesday.

Y'all will have Chapter 3 of A Cup of Conflict next Wednesday!

Take care of yourselves and your loved ones. Life is terribly short.

Writing More than Showing On the Stats

Over on the side ribbon (if you're looking at the fullscreen version of this blog, I keep a list of stats on current and future writing projects. Right now, it doesn't look like I'm doing much of anything. My NaNo project is an Alter Ego book, the first in three(?) years. 

Also, I'm double-checking for typos in Magick and Murder after finding a few I missed in Fae and Felonies while proofing the paperback. Also, there's the annual Christmas short to write. I need to have everything done before DH and I set out on our first real vacation since GK was born. (The treks to Ohio to visit family do not count as vacations because they definitely weren't relaxing. Neither were the staycations to fix house stuff.)

After we return from our trip, I've got two eye surgeries scheduled in December to fix the cataracts I have thanks to the tamoxifen. Like I told my oncologist, if there's a weird side effect to a drug, I'll have it. Merry Christmas to me.

But that also means, my writing may be limited until my body processes the new bionic lenses, as my buddy Jo would say, and we figure out if I need glasses or just reading glasses or *fingers crossed* I don't need anything at all. By January, I should be able to drive al night again.

Can I now? Technically yes, but I don't feel comfortable doing it.

This is just one of many things a person deals with on the way the big 6-0. Yet, I still want Barbies for my birthday, and I plan on hitting my favorite comic book shop when I'm in Houston. I feel very paradoxical at the moment.

However, I will be taking Baby Blue with me on vacation. DH no longer flies so the drive to our destination will allow me to only write. While technically a laptop, Baby Blue isn't much more than a glorified tablet with a keyboard. She only has WORD and EXCEL loaded, and the wi-fi remains turned off unless there's a dire emergency that my phone can't handle. And there isn't much a smart phone can't handle these days. However, I only have my personal e-mail on the phone.

If all goes to plan, I should have a few giant updates on stats at the beginning of December. Then, things will be quiet until the beginning of January.

P.S. The entire Justice series is currently on sale at all retailers (or it should be) until December 10th. Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice (Soccer Moms of the Apocalypse #1) is $0.99 until Deember 31st!

Invasion! - Chapter 2

Here's the next unedited chapter in Invasion!

And don't forget Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice is free on Amazon until Friday, November 18th!

Link to Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice on Amazon

-------------------

Greenwich Village, The Island of Manhattan, New York, The night before Samhain

Shan Wong-Washington jerked awake at Cu Chulainn’s low growl. The Irish foxhound lay at the foot of the brown comforter on hers and Jamal’s wrought iron bed. Ambient light of New York City filtered past the closed blinds of the bedroom’s only window and displayed the dog’s alert posture.

“What’s wrong, boy?” she whispered. Cu Chulainn jumped down from the bed.

Or rather stepped down. The dog was so huge her sister-in-law Tanja and cousin Livvy rode him when they were toddlers. He padded down the short hallway between the bedroom and the living room of the loft.

Shan slid out from under the covers. The hardwood floor was oddly cold against her bare soles, considering the building’s cranky furnace had been blasting so much heat before bedtime she’d resorted to a sleep t-shirt and shorts instead of her sweats. She listened carefully, but there was only silence from the loft’s living room. Were the girls up to something? Was that what riled Cu Chulainn?

The wolfhound wouldn’t have growled if it were something minor. He would have trotted out to the living room and stopped whatever mischief the girls were up to.

Shan followed the dog out to the living room. The night light in the kitchen gleamed yellow, softening the harsher glow of Manhattan from the skylight.

No shenanigans here. Both girls were out cold. Tanja was curled in a tight ball, sound asleep. Only a few of her dark braids poked out from under her blanket. Livvy lay beside her, blond hair and limbs sprawled across the couch and chair cushions the girls has placed on the living room rug to form their bed. They had convinced their respective parents Shan needed the company while her husband Jamal trained at the Johnson Space Center. It definitely wasn’t the two nine-year-olds who woke Cu Chulainn.

The wolfhound stood at the top of the narrow steps leading from the second-floor loft down to the store. Another low growl rumbled deep in his chest. Something was definitely wrong in the shop.

Shan had double-checked all the doors and windows of Morrigan’s Cauldron, the store Jamal’s mother co-owned. Everything had been locked, and the steel gates pulled into place and secured. As much as she loved Manhattan, and Greenwich Village especially, she wasn’t stupid about safety. Especially not with two little girls under her care. The wolfhound place a paw on the first step, his hackles raised.

“No,” Shan commanded in a whisper. “Stay.”

Cu Chulainn gave her a look that obviously said he disagreed with her, but he did as she ordered.

Shan went back to the bedroom to slip on her canvas shoes. A slight hum came from the closet. Crap. If Lexi was indicating danger, things were worse than Shan feared. She carefully slid open the closet door. The scabbard hung from its peg, and Lexi’s hum became even more urgent.

Shan drew her husband’s sword from its scabbard. The steel gave off a slight golden glow in the dim room. The blade had gone through many titles over the millennia. The Sword of Lugh. The Spear of Destiny. Excalibur. Now, the family simply referred to it as Jamal’s crazy singing sword. Or Lexi.

And she was a much better weapon than Shan’s aluminum baseball bat.

“Tone it down, girl,” Shan whispered. “You’re going to give us away to whatever is downstairs.

The sword’s glow dimmed, and she stopped the eerie humming.

“Thank you.” Shan retrieved her charmed copper knife and crept back out to the living room. The girls hadn’t moved at all. Cu Chulainn remained on guard at the top of the stairwell.

Maybe she should call her mother-in-law Phylicia. As a witch, she could handle whatever was down there.

No, there was no sense waking up the in-laws if she was blowing something out of proportion.

A bang came from downstairs. Cu Chulainn growled low in his chest.

“What was that?” Livvy whispered.

Crap. Both girls sat on their makeshift bed, wide awake and staring at Shan.

Another crash resounded through the building.

“Lock yourselves in the bathroom, and call 9-1-1,” Shan whispered. “Cu Chulainn, guard the girls.”

The wolfhound still didn’t look happy, but he padded over to Tanja and Livvy. He let the girls grab their phones before he herded them toward the bathroom.

Shan crept down the narrow steps, Lexi providing her only light. While some of the objects Morrigan’s Cauldron carried were expensive, a thief couldn’t easily fence a one hundred-pound block of purple quartz. Phylicia took the receipts for the day for deposit on her way home. So, why the hell would anyone break into the store? Everyone in this neighborhood knew better than to mess with Phylicia. Or Grandmother Wong.

So it had to be someone desperate. Or whacked out on drugs. Or both.

Shan opened the door at the foot of the stairs and froze when the hinges creaked. She held her breath and listened. Someone shuffled around in the storefront. Whoever it was hadn’t heard her. Thank goodness for old creaky buildings in the village.

She carefully locked the door to the stairs and crept through the storeroom. The beaded curtain hung between her and the invader. Odd chittering came from the dark figure standing behind the cashwrap. The light from the street showed the gates over the door and windows closed. Had her potential thief jimmied the front door and its gate and closed them so the NYPD didn’t get suspicious? Or had he come in through the back door? Were there others with him?

None of her conjectures made sense. Phylicia’s wards would have deterred someone trying to come into the building after hours and much as the locks and gates.

The rustle of parchment came from the top of the cashwrap. For a split second, the figure’s mumbled words that sounded like the similar language spouted by the woman who had brought in a strange grimoire.

The customer claimed she found the volume in a dead aunt’s attic and had wanted an appraisal. Of course, the woman came in after Phylicia had left for the day. Was someone trying to steal the grimoire?

Or worse, had the woman cast a spell inside the store without Shan realizing it to get the intruder past the after hours wards?

The more she watched, the less the thing flipping through the grimoire resembled a human being. Its moves were jerky, and its joints seemed to move in unnatural direction. The smart thing would be to retreat to the loft stairwell, lock the door behind her, and wait for the cops. But between the locked gates and the warding, the thing was trapped inside the building with Shan, Cu Chulainn, and the girls.

And unless Shan unlocked the gates, there was no way for the police to enter Morrigan’s Cauldron and apprehend the intruder.

Which still left the question of how the intruder got into the building in the first place.

None of her conjecture mattered. An unannounced night visit wasn’t good, and surprise was still on her side. She eased her left hand past the strands of bead and nudged the light switch.

The antique fixtures flared to life. The thing messing with the grimoire jerked. It was definitely not human. It was covered in greyish—well, the dermis wasn’t exactly scales, but it wasn’t skin either. And its limbs were tentacles tipped with wicked-looking talons.

One of the tentacles shot toward Shan, ripping off several strand from the bead curtain is the process as it tried to grab her. She deflected the appendage with Lexi. Both the sword and the intruder screeched. A thin trail of smoke curled from the blade. Even more smoke poured from the lengthy cut on the now-drooping tentacle.

Whatever the thing was, it was vulnerable to magic. Too bad she didn’t have her grandmother’s talents.

The intruder backed away from the cashwrap and began chirping and chittering, the noises reminiscent of locusts. The sounds were rhythmic. The damn thing was casting a spell.

Anger and protectiveness of her family fed Shan’s strength, and she charged the creature. It dodged both the Tuathan blade and her blessed copper knife while dragging its disabled tentacle.

A swirling vortex of white and blue lights appeared behind the intruder. The tone of its speech changed. A fifth tentacle shot from its body and wrapped around her right ankle. Nausea raked her at the alien feeling of its epidermis.

Before she could bring Lexi down on the tentacle, the intruder yanked her off balance. Her hip landed hard on the polished wooden floorboards, but she managed to keep her hold on both the sword and knife.

The sounds changed again to chittering broken by huffs. Laughter. The damn thing was laughing at her. She knew it in her bones as the damn creature dragged her into the vortex with it.

One Last Sale

Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice is currently free on Amazon. Yep, that's zero moola WITHOUT joining the Kindle Unlimited club.

So if you need something fun and crazy to read while your uncles argue whether sasquatches and yetis are the same thing over the remnants of the turkey carcass, pick up your copy now!

The sale ends on Friday, November 18th!

Link to Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice on Amazon

A Quick Sales Update!

 Famine in French Vanilla dropped today in Amazon!

Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice is FREE on Amazon today and tomorrow!

All novel and novellas are 50% off at Smashwords! Short stories are free! The Smashwords sale continues until the end of July! Make sure you use the Sales Codes to get your discount!

That's all the news for now. I'm on the road today, so if you have any questions, I'll answer them when I get home tonight.

Thank you for your support!

Soccer Moms and Other Updates

Apocalypse? Not Now! and Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice are going through their final tweaks with my formatter. I swear it doesn't matter how many eyes I have on a manuscript. Invariably, I will find a typo or five when I go through the e-book and print files. So, Jaye is slipping the final corrections in, and the Kickstarter backers will have their e-book copies before the end of the month.

In the meantime, I'm working hard to finish up A Measure of Knowledge. I'll have one more sample chapter to post next week. I know how I'm ending the book now. It leads into a one-off, Invasion!, which you can skip if you don't think it adds to the Justice mythos. Or get your library to purchase a copy and borrow it, so you can check it out before buying it yourself.

However, I think Invasion! will be funny as heck, so I hope you'll check it out anyway.

If you don't like Invasion!, blame it on DH. It's all his fault for asking what would happen if Anthea and Sam Ridgeway ever met.

Brand New Cover

I never realized how much I relied on my book covers to spur me into finishing a project. My cover artist delivered this cutie once she recovered from the Omicron variant. As a writer friend and I discussed last night, a title and a cover make the book feel real even when, as in this case, the project will be e-book only.

Apocalypse? Not Now! is a limited edition, only available through the Kickstarter I'll be running later this month for the Soccer Moms of the Apocalypse series. I am close to finishing the prequel and the first book, Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice.

However, I won't launch the Kickstarter until the prequel and Book 1 are edited and formatted. And I have to get taxes done this week so they're out of the way.

February may be a short month, but it's jam-packed. Luckily, the days are getting longer, and I'm already responding to the extra sunlight.

Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice - Chapter 5

This will be the last chapter for this novel. We're at roughly twenty percent which is the max I can post without repercussions from the retailers. Too much is going on this summer to mess with taking down posts later.

I would appreciate it if you'd let me know what you think in the comments.

Next week's post will be a status update. Lots of stuff is happening in the land of the Angry Sheep!

-----------------

Penny sat up in her hospital bed when Doctor Hudson strode into her room. After all the tests over the last twenty-four hours, she was beginning to feel like a guinea pig. Even worse, no one could tell her what was going on with her staff or her customers.

“Well, Doc?” Penny asked hopefully. Gene squeezed her left hand trying to reassure her, but after the scene at Java’s Palace, she wasn’t sure she’d be okay again.

Doctor Harold shook her head. “There was absolutely nothing abnormal on your MRI.”

“But she’s been having these headaches all week,” Gene protested.

Doctor Harold eyed Penny. “You said they started on Tuesday.”

“That was the first one,” Penny admitted. “Between the thunder storms and butting heads with Justine, I chalked it up to stress and the change in barometric pressure. But after a good night’s sleep, I felt fine the next morning.”

Doctor Harold pulled the stylus off the tablet and jotted some notes. “Tuesday was also when you both said Justine came down with that stomach bug.”

“Yes,” Penny said.

“We followed the school guidelines and kept her home Wednesday,” Gene added.

“And you haven’t felt any ill effects?” Doctor Harold asked.

“None,” he replied.

The physician turned back to Penny. “But you had a headache Wednesday night?”

“Yeah, but it was nothing like Tuesday’s or Thursday’s.” She shrugged. “I never even finished my chocolate martini.”

Doctor Harold poked at the nosepiece of her glasses. “Did you have any alcohol the other two nights?”

“No.” Penny slumped against her raised bed. “And I only had half of the martini Dani made for me.”

Doctor Harold’s brunette ponytail waved back and forth as she shook her head. “None of this makes sense. None of it.” She stalked back to the door, closed it, and turned back to Penny and Gene. “We need to have a frank talk, folks.”

Penny exchanged looks with Gene, who appeared as confused as she felt. She faced the physician again. “What do you mean?”

“Have you imported any unusual foods or drinks from out of the country?” Doctor Harold asked while she walked back to the bed.

“None that didn’t go through my usual suppliers,” Penny said. “The only new thing I had on the menu was starfruit smoothies this summer, and I made sure to warn customers that if they can’t eat grapefruit because of the drugs they take, they shouldn’t be ordering the smoothie.”

“Hold on,” Gene said. “Why are you insinuating my wife did something illegal?”

“I’m not saying that.” Doctor Harold leaned one hand against the foot board of Penny’s bed. She stared at the floor for a moment before she eyed Penny again. “None of the people brought into the ER are exhibiting the same symptoms. And except for Justine’s stomach bug and your migraine level headaches, all of the symptoms point to diseases that aren’t common in the U.S., much less Illinois.”

“Symptoms like what?” Gene said.

“I can’t break HIPPA—”

“You can talk to a fellow doctor when you want a second opinion,” he asserted.

Doctor Harold sighed. “And you’re going to tell Penny if I consult privately with you, won’t you?”

“It won’t leave this room.” Penny crossed her heart over the ugly blue-striped hospital gown she wore.

“Nobody has the same symptoms.” Doctor Harold started ticking diseases off on her fingers. “One person presented as Dengue fever when they arrived. Another as African sleeping sickness. A third as Hantavirus. The only one we’ve confirmed through bloodwork so far is malaria, but before we could administer treatment, the patient recovered. The second set of bloodwork showed no sign of the parasite.”

“You sure it came from the same patient?” Gene said.

Penny could see hackles rise on the physician, but Doctor Harold forced them back down.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said more calmly than she obviously felt. “Not one person from Java’s Palace has the same disease. We’re still waiting for results on the rest, but everyone seems to be responding to non-treatment.” She gave an uncomfortable chuckle.

Penny could feel her heart dive into her stomach acid. “You’re not letting any of us go tonight, are you?”

Doctor Harold shook her head. “Not until we figure out what the hell happened. Can I please have a list of your suppliers?”

Penny grabbed her phone from the overbed table. “What’s your cell number?”

She punched in the number the doctor rattled off and texted the document containing the master list of her suppliers to the physician.

Doctor Harold’s phone beeped. She looked at it and nodded. “Thank you. Someone will be in to take another blood sample shortly.” She strode out of the hospital room, closing the door behind her.

Penny looked at Gene and reached for his hand again. He took it and squeezed it.

“Don’t worry, sweetie.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Once the health inspectors’ took their samples yesterday, I called a cleaning service.”

She scrunched her face. “Norah?” Norah Ackles had been Penny’s cleaner since she opened the coffee shop. While Valerie and the staff kept up on the day-to-day stuff, Penny liked having Norah and her crew come in and do an even more thorough deep clean.

Gene sighed. “No, Safety Clean.”

“What?” Penny shrieked. “They’re a crime scene clean-up crew!”

“They also specialize in biohazardous waste removal.” A hurt expression crossed his face. “Given the circumstances, the place was more than Norah and her girls should be handling.”

“I know Matt threw up but—” Penny began.

“Sweetie, he wasn’t the only one.” Gene lowered his voice. “Mrs. Langston and couple others in her knitting group vomited blood.”

“Oh, my god.” Penny stared at the ceiling. Once this got around Oakfield, would she even have a business left? That thought reminded her of Courtney’s strange comment.

Penny looked at Gene. “Did you pick up the mail at the shop?”

“Sweetie, you need to rest.”

“No.” She jerked her hand from Gene’s grip. “Right before everyone got sick Courtney was at the shop.”

“Are you suggesting—”

Penny shook her head. “She’s not intelligent enough for bio-terrorism. Bu she’s vindictive enough to let something slip about the land Java’s Palace sits on being sold.”

He stood. “If you promise me you’ll take a nap, I’ll run by the post office and pick up your mail.”

“I promise I’ll try.” She smiled up at him.

He kissed her forehead and left the room. She wasn’t sure what she’d do without him.

She plumped her pillow and returned to staring at the ceiling. None of this made sense. How could starfruit make people sick months after she’d used them up? Did any of this have something to do with Dani’s heart stopping Wednesday night?

Penny checked her texts. Everyone sent a message asking how she was doing. Even Francine. Penny took a deep breath and texted Dani first.

U still in hospital?

A minute later, Dani replied.

Home. Want me to sneak in milkshake?

Penny grinned and sent the thumbs-up emoji. She answered Wila and Francine’s texts before she set aside her phone. Maybe together, she and her friends could figure out the weirdness that targeted them this week.

Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice - Chapter 4

The next morning, Penny called Valerie after she dropped off Justine at school to say she would be in at ten. Valerie didn’t question why she would be late, which meant the Oakfield gossip network was working overtime. She didn’t care. She was more worried about Dani. Someone’s heart didn’t stop like that without something serious going on.

The heavy Friday morning traffic didn’t help her nerves one bit either. Every driver seemed grumpy, cutting each other off and laying on their horns. Maybe it was the overcast sky. The cold front had a solid grip on northern Illinois.

Or maybe it was her conversations with her own husband and Dani’s brother last night that colored her mood. Wila had called Penny while she’d driven home to say the ER doctor decided to admit Dani, and she would text Penny and Francine the room number once she had it.

Penny called Marty to let him know what was going on with his sister. Once she said Wila was at the hospital with Dani, he calmed down a bit. While Penny insisted that Marty tell Mark the truth about his mother, she rather suspected he wouldn’t.

When she arrived home and told Gene about the evening’s events, he’d surprised her by agreeing with Francine. According to his professional opinion, Penny was finally letting go of the trauma of Justine’s cancer, and he thought it was a good thing. For some reason, Gene psychoanalyzing her like one of his patients pissed her off.

And she wasn’t exactly sure why it made her angry.

Penny pulled into the visitors’ lot of the hospital as the clouds started spitting rain. She reached the automatic door as the sprinkles turned into a deluge. The odor of antiseptic made her stomach twitch thanks to all the sleepless days and nights she spent in the children’s hospital in Chicago. It was a good thing she’d forgone breakfast this morning. She headed straight for the elevators and nodded politely to the elderly ladies manning the information desk as she passed.

The lobby area became crowded as people waited for a car. One of the four finally reached the first floor. Penny resisted the urge to shove through the mass of bodies. Somehow, she managed to squeeze herself inside. Of course, the damn thing had to stop at every floor.

The elevator finally reached the CCU floor. The nurse looked up from her screen when Penny stepped out of the car. Once again, she exchanged nods with the nurse as she headed down the right hallway.

She knocked on the half-open door before she stuck her head around the edge. Dani looked normal and healthy except for all the wires and lines attached to various places on her body. Wila, on the other hand, appeared exhausted.

“Damn, girl, have you been up here all night?” Penny said.

“We both have,” Dani grumbled.

“At least, one of us got some sleep.” Wila scrubbed her face. An ashy hue covered her dark skin, a sure sign she was stressed out, too.

“What’s the word on Dani’s condition?” Penny asked.

“You know I’m laying right here,” Dani snapped.

Wila chuckled. “You want to explain?”

Dani’s mouth opened, then closed with a snap of her teeth.

“That’s what I thought,” Wila teased before she faced Penny. “In layman’s terms, the staff has no fucking clue of what happened last night. Within two hours after arriving here last night, her vitals were all back to normal. They’ve been running tests most of the night.”

“Her heart?” Penny asked.

Wila waved at the EKG machine. “Like I said, rock steady for the last eight hours. They’ve done an x-ray on her head and chest plus an ultrasound and a CT scan on her heart.”

“And they’re going to run a stress test some time this morning,” Dani added.

“So they’re not releasing you any time soon?” Penny grimaced.

“No,” Dani and Wila said at the same time.

Penny eyed Wila. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll stay with her for a while.”

Wila pulled on her jacket and slung her purse strap over her shoulder before she gave Dani’s unencumbered hand a squeeze. “Text me after the stress test.” “You just want to make sure I survive the damn test,” Dani grumbled some more.

“Damn straight.” Wila grinned.

Dani stuck her tongue out at Wila. The paramedic slipped out of the room with a laugh and a wave of her fingers.

Penny slid off her own jacket and hung it and her shoulder bag on the back of the visitor chair Wila had vacated. She plopped on the set. “Joking aside, how are you doing?”

Dani grimaced. “I feel fine.” She stared at Penny, her huge brown eyes glimmering with tears. “Please tell me Wila was exaggerating about me passing out.”

“I wish I could, sweetie.” Penny took Dani’s left hand in both of hers. “You scared the crap out of all of us last night.”

Dani snorted. “I’m sure Francine is worried it’s something contagious.”

“Actually, she put something together that has been bothering me, too.” Penny hesitated. She didn’t want to worry Dani unnecessarily. “Have you noticed anything weird about me?”

Dani’s mouth twisted. “I didn’t want to say anything…”

When she didn’t say anything else, Penny prompted, “But?”

“You didn’t freak out about Justine vomiting all over your van.” Dani played with a fold of her hospital blanket.

Penny swallowed hard. “Have I been that bad?”

“Girl, none of us blame you.” Dani squeezed Penny’s left hand. “I’d be a wreck if Mark developed cancer. But Justine’s okay now. Gene’s more than willing to cover his share of parenting. You are just having a hard time letting go of things. Believe me, I did something similar after Heath’s accident. You pulled me out of the worst of my grief.”

Tears stung Penny’s eyes. She always viewed herself as the strong one of the group. Had she been lying to herself all this time.

“But I’m not grieving.” She waved her right hand, but her left hand kept a tight grasp on Dani’s left hand. “Justine’s alive. She’s healthy.” She rolled her eyes. “She’s definitely going through puberty. How can I be grieving?”

Dani chuckled. “You can grieve over things other than a loved one’s death. Face it, Justine’s illness changed yours and Gene’s life plans. And the afternoon we met, you’re the one who told me grief has its own damn pace no matter what anyone else says.”

“I really hate it when you throw my own words back in my face,” Penny mock growled.

Dani cocked her head. “Doesn’t make them any less true.”

* * *

Dani’s words still swirled through Penny’s brain as she drove back to Java’s Palace. Maybe she was guilty of holding on too tight to Justine. Dani would definitely understand from the child’s point of view. Her dad Chuck charged onto the CCU floor a couple of hours after Penny’s arrival and immediately raised holy hell over the fact the medical staff didn’t know what was wrong with his baby girl. Hell, Dani turned forty this year, and Chuck still tried to control her life.

She pulled into the coffee shop’s parking. A little guilt seeped in at leaving Valerie and the girls alone for the morning rush. Maybe letting them go home early would assuage some of her feelings.

Penny parked and locked her minivan. Her stomach warped when she spotted Courtney’s gold SUV. What the hell did she want now? Or had she found what Penny had written with caramel on yesterday’s coffee?

She’d have to suck it up if Courtney wanted to bitch. Why the hell did she keep coming here other than to harass the staff and throw her weight around?

Penny entered the café. Matt was in the closest corner working on his latest novel, his half-eaten bagel forgotten with his rapid fire typing. Mrs. Langston’s knitting club was across the dining room, their needles flashing as they gossiped and sipped their drinks.

And of course, Courtney complained loudly to Valerie. Penny’s vision blurred, a warning signal a migraine was about to start. Damn, she hadn’t had a stress migraine since she left her corporate job with a certain restaurant chain whose name she swore she’d never say again.

“What’s your problem this time, Courtney?” she barked. Her voice was loud enough to interrupt both Matt’s keystrokes and the knitting club’s clicking needles. Penny could feel her customers staring at her, but she didn’t care.

Courtney sniffed contemptuously. “I wanted to see your face when you learned you were about to lose your precious coffee shop.”

Penny cocked her head. “What are you talking about? Did you lie to the health inspector?”

“I didn’t have to,” Courtney said primly. “The land Java’s Palace is sitting on is about to be sold.”

“My landlord has to give me thirty days’ notice.” Not to mention, Penny had the right of first refusal if Mr. Ross decided to sell the land. She’d been putting every extra dime and nickel away in order to buy the parcel. Mr. Ross said he was willing to subdivide the property, but her long-term plan involved purchasing the entire strip mall where Java’s Palace was located. But she wasn’t going to give the bitch any more ammunition.

“Then maybe you should call him.” Courtney’s saccharine smile was enough for Penny to want to deck her. “Have a nice day!” She sauntered out of the shop. Matt approached with his cup, obviously needing a refill. “What was that all about?”

“Would you believe crazy parents in a kids’ soccer league?” Penny forced a laugh. Her brain was pounding behind her eyeballs.

Valerie reached the pot with Jamaican Blue Mountain. She held out her hand for his cup and frowned when her fingers touched his. “You feeling okay, Matt?”

“No.” He had a yellowish cast to his skin, and he rubbed his stomach. “I was okay until a second ago. Now, I feel like—” An alarmed expression spread across his face before he whirled away. Vomit sprayed across the tiled floor.

“Matt!” Pain exploded in Penny’s head. She dropped to her knees. “Valerie, call, call…”

Penny fell into the blackness with a symphony of puking in the background.

Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice - Chapter 3

Later that night, Penny pulled into Wila’s driveway and frowned. Dani was right. They all had the same make, model, and year of minivan. The front of Wila’s house looked like a satellite branch of Neal Astin’s dealership. But then, Dani would never have purchased a minivan if it weren’t for her dad. And Penny had a suspicion Dani hadn’t paid for the minivan either.

Which was a whole nother issue.

Wednesday night was girls’ night at Wila’s. Three of them needed a break from their families, and Wila hated being alone while her son Derek spent the evening at the ex-husband’s house.

Penny opened the driver’s door before she grabbed the bags of munchies she brought, including chocolate of all types. Francine would bitch, which was why Penny bought a bag of the gluten-free, fat-free, and taste-free chips Francine loved.

Or claimed she did. Penny swore a cereal box tasted better than those chips.

She slammed the door shut and jogged up to the front door. Before she could press the latch, the door swung open.

“’Bout time you got here!” Wila gestured for Penny to come inside. “Hurry. We need something to counteract the alcohol.”

“You started without me?” Penny shrugged out of her coat while Wila took possession of the reusable bags.

“No, Dani’s mixing chocolate martinis right now.”

Penny groaned. “Another raise?”

“Another raise,” Wila confirmed.

Penny hung her coat on a peg and followed Wila into the kitchen. Dani stood at the counter, the shaker in her hands and ice clattering as she mixed their drinks. Spotting Wila with the reusable bags, Francine jumped up from the bar stool she had been perched on.

“Did you bring chocolate?” She grabbed a bag from Wila and fished out the bag of dark chocolate raspberry truffles.

Penny exchanged looks with Wila who merely shrugged.

“That time of the month?” Dani asked with an amused expression. She carefully poured the chocolate martinis into the glasses while Francine dumped the rest of the contents onto the kitchen counter.

Francine shook her head. “Ever since yesterday’s storm, I’ve been craving chocolate.”

“It’s those damn smoothies,” Penny said. “Too much depravation isn’t good for the soul or your body chemistry.”

Francine made a face at her and popped another truffle in her mouth.

Wila accepted a martini from Dani. “You sure you’re not pregnant?”

“Bite your tongue,” Francine snapped. “I can barely handle the one I’ve got. She started her first period today.”

“You had supplies for her, didn’t you?” Penny asked.

“Of course.” Francine rolled her eyes before she sipped her drink. “It’s just that we both ended up on the floor of her bathroom crying.”

“Why the hell were you crying?” Wila’s eyebrows formed a sharp “V” between her eyes. “It happens to almost every woman.”

“You don’t have a daughter.” Francine’s eyes glistened. “You don’t understand.”

“You think raising a son is easier?” Dani shook her head. “Dad and Marty are trying to be Mark’s male role models, but some of the information they give him…” She took a healthy swig of her martini. “He’ll either never date, or he’ll turn into a slut puppy.”

“Just because your brother was Mister Popular in high school, it doesn’t mean Mark will serial date like he did,” Penny said.

“How’s Justine feeling?” Wila reached for the bag of cheddar crisps.

“Feeling?” Francine edged away from Penny, but she took the bag of raspberry truffles with her. “Is she sick? What was she exposed to?”

“Chill.” Penny dug out the crackers and spray cheese from her other bag. “The vomiting was probably due to her own period starting yesterday morning.”

“Vomiting?” Dani’s expression turned to one of alarm. “She and Mark—”

“It’s been over twenty-four hours,” Wila said soothingly. “If any of the team picked up norovirus from Justine, all of our kids would be puking right now. Penny’s right. It’s probably related to the poor girl’s period. When I was her age, I bawled from the pain.”

“If you guys are going to talk about gross bodily functions, can we please play Euchre while you do?” Francine whined.

“Fine,” Penny grumbled. “But I want another martini first.”

* * *

The ache Penny thought had gone started pulsing behind her eyes as she stared at her crappy hand. “Pass.”

“Pass,” Wila said.

“Pass.” Dani laid her cards face down on Wila’s pine kitchen table. She rubbed her temples.

“Well, this sucks.” Francine pursed her lips and turned down the ten of diamonds.

“You dealt the cards,” Wila snapped.

“Stop yelling at me,” Francine bit back. “Your call, Penny.”

Dani’s olive complexion shifted to a sickly color.

Penny laid her own cards face down on the table. “Dani, honey, are you okay?”

“No.” She started to shake her head and thought better of it. “I had a nasty headache since Dad bought that damn minivan. I felt better last night after some sleep, but it’s coming back with a vengeance.”

“You, too?” Wila cocked her head. “I thought I was stressed out from the extra shifts I been pulling.”

Francine turned to Penny. “Did Justine complain of a headache before she got sick yesterday?”

“No, but I had a similar headache before I got to the field yesterday.” Penny chewed in her bottom lip as she thought. “I chalked it up to the weather front.” She turned back to Dani. “Do you need to lay down?”

“No, but I think I’ll go home while I can still drive.” Dani handed her cards to Wila. “I’m sorry for being a bummer.”

“Wait a minute.” Wila grabbed Dani’s wrist. “You’re hot.”

“You’re sexy, too, but I’m not ready to try girls yet,” Dani said.

“No, I mean I think you have a temperature.” Wila pushed back from the table and stood. “Let me get my touch thermometer.” She charged out of the kitchen. Footsteps thumped up the stairs.

Francine turned to Penny. “See what you did? You unleashed disease on all of us.”

“You’re going to be lucky not to be puking after eating the entire bag of raspberry truffles,” Penny shot back.

Francine frowned and peered into the bag. “I only remember having a couple.” She looked over at the counter. “I’m still hungry.” She rose and snatched the unopened bag of milk chocolate peanut butter truffles.

“Are you feeling okay, Francine?” Penny stared as the other woman tore the bag open, unwrapped a truffle, and popped it in her mouth.

“I’m better than you guys are,” Francine said around the mouthful of candy. “No nausea, no headache, no fever.” She sat on one of the counter stools. “Just hungry and staying away from the rest of you.”

Penny turned to Dani. Her card partner’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she slid bonelessly off her chair.

“Dani!” Penny shouted. She jumped up from the chair, circled the table, and knelt next to her card partner. She pressed her fingers to her friend’s wrist, searching for a pulse. “Dani?”

Footsteps thumped down the stairs, faster and louder than before. Wila raced into her kitchen. “What happened?” She laid the thermometer she’d retrieved on the table and knelt on the other side of Dani.

“She passed out and fell out of her chair.”

“Should I call 9-1-1?” Francine hovered over them.

“Call them.” Wila’s voice was cool. Sure. “She’s not breathing, and I can’t find a pulse.”

Penny’s heart pounded. Too bad she couldn’t give some of those beats to Dani.

Wila went through the basics from the CPR class she’d taught. The one she made the other three women take because she was afraid no one would show up. She tilted Dani’s head back and checked her airway.

“I don’t see anything.” Wila looked up at Penny. “I’ll do compressions. You remember how to do mouth-to-mouth?”

Penny nodded, her own mouth suddenly dry. This was her friend, not Annie the CPR dummy. And she was dimly aware of Francine on her phone, rattling off Wila’s address the 9-1-1 operator as Penny tilted Dani’s head back.

Wila did a series of fast compressions. Penny pinched Dani’s nose shut and breathed into her friend’s mouth. They continued performing CPR. Wila counted her compression and then paused for Penny to blow air into Dani’s lungs. Sirens wailed in the distance.

“I’ll flag them down.” Francine raced out of the kitchen. Penny couldn’t blame her. Their friend was dying.

Penny and Wila finished the twelfth round of CPR when Dani’s eyes popped open.

“What the hell are you two doing to me?” Dani started to sit upright then collapsed back to the floor. “Oh, my god! Why does my chest feel like an elephant sat on it?”

Penny exchanged looks with Wila before asking, “Sweetie, what’s the last thing you remember?”

“You and Francine arguing about the chocolate.” Dani blinked and looked around. “Why am I on the floor?”

“You passed out and hit the hardwood before anyone could catch you,” Penny said while Wila check Dani’s pulse. “You stopped breathing, and we couldn’t detect a heartbeat.”

“She’s in the kitchen,” Francine said. She rushed into the room with two paramedics on her tail.

“Dang!” The younger paramedic blurted before he turned to his older, graying partner. “I told you this was Wila’s house, Dick.”

Penny scrambled out of their way, and Dick knelt beside Dani.

“I can’t believe you called 9-1-1.” Dani groaned.

Dick looked up at Wila. “Dispatch said the patient was unresponsive with no respiration or pulse.”

“Swear to God, guys,” Wila said. “She was not breathing, and we couldn’t find a heartbeat.” She rattled off everything she and Penny done along with the vitals she took when Dani woke.

“Did she hit her head?” Dick asked as he flashed a light at Dani’s eyes.

“I wasn’t in the room when it happened.” Wila looked at Penny.

She shrugged. “I don’t think so. Her head was on her arm by the time I got around the table. We laid her straight to perform CPR.”

“Can I please get off the floor?” Dani whined. “It’s cold down here.”

“Sorry, chica,” the younger paramedic said. “I’ll get you a blanket.” He jogged out of the kitchen.

The shit-ass grin Wila wore said she was about to stir the pot. “Hey, Dick, is Ramon seeing anyone right now?”

“Shut up,” Dani hissed. Penny chewed on her tongue to keep from laughing.

Dick smirked. “Nah. Last one got pissed because he didn’t want to go to med school.” He looked at Dani while he pumped the blood pressure cuff. “You aren’t a gold digger, are you?”

She blushed a deep rose. “I’m a single mother. Most men don’t want children in their lives.”

“Who doesn’t want children?” Ramon asked as he jogged back into the kitchen with a navy blue blanket that matched his and Dick’s uniforms. He spread the fabric over Dani’s form.

She clamped her mouth shut.

“My friend thinks because she’s a widow with a preteen boy she’s off the market,” Penny said.

Ramon looked up at Wila with a sour expression. “You couldn’t have introduced me to your friend before today?”

“Yeah, Wila.” Francine piled on the verbal abuse. “Why’d you wait until Dani practically died on your floor?”

“The CPR obviously worked.” Dick ripped apart the Velcro holding the cuff to Dani’s arm, but your blood pressure is awfully high.” He looked at his partner. “What are the pulsox readings?”

Ramon shook his head as he examined the device he clipped to Dani’s right index finger. “Pulse is ninety, and blood oxygen is waffling around ninety.”

“Ms. Elante, it’s best we take you to the hospital,” Dick said gently.

“But Mark—”

“Is at Marty’s spending the night with his cousins,” Penny gently reminded Dani. “I’ll call him and let him know what’s going on here.” Penny motioned for Ramon to bring in the gurney. Luckily, he picked up on her hint, and he headed back out to the living room where they’d left the gurney.

“I’ll follow the ambulance to the hospital,” Wila said.

“And I’m picking up Mark tomorrow anyway,” Francine added. “He and Brittany are supposed to work on their project for the science fair, and he can stay for dinner.”

Penny tried not to wince at that news. It explained part of Justine’s attitude over the last two weeks. She had a major crush on Mark. Penny didn’t want to bring it up to Dani. The woman would positively freak. Her son was her connection to Heath whom she still loved desperately and passionately five years after his death.

Ramon rolled the gurney next to Dani.

“But—” she protested.

“You are getting checked out,” Penny said in her best mom voice. “We’ve got the rest.”

Once the paramedics loaded Dani onto the gurney and Wila followed them out of the house, Penny and Francine started cleaning up the remnants of their aborted girls’ night.

“I know the rest of you don’t think I’m that smart,” Francine said softly. “But even I know a person doesn’t bounce back from their heart stopping like that.

Penny paused in loading the dishwasher, unsure which of Francine’s statements bothered her more. She set the plate in the bottom rack and eyed Francine. “First of all, none of us think you’re not smart. No one earns a master’s degree if they don’t have something going for them.” Penny sighed while dried her hands. “And you’re totally right about Dani. Something happened tonight, and…” She pursed her lips. All of them, including herself, mentioned headaches, but there seemed to be more going on.

“It’s not just Dani passing out,” she murmured. “You were practically inhaling chocolate.”

“So?” Francine shrugged as she placed the unopened bag of her special chips into one of Penny’s reusable grocery carriers. “You guys constantly get on my case about my eating.”

“And you have never backed down once.” Penny folded her arms across her chest. “Then there’s Wila trying to pick fights with everyone.”

Francine propped herself on a barstool. “You noticed that, too? There’s also the fact that you’d be freaking over Justine getting sick and you didn’t.”

Penny leaned against the counter. Francine was right. After Justine’s stint with leukemia when she was a toddler, both she and Gene were practically paranoid over their daughter’s health.

“What about the headaches we’ve all been experiencing?” she finally said.

“Something in Dani’s new minivan could be causing hers.” Francine frowned. “I’ll ask Neal if they changed one of the prep cleaners. But for the rest of us?” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Penny shivered. She didn’t know what was going on either, but she couldn’t escape the feeling that none of it was good.

Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice - Chapter 2

The rain had tapered off by the time Penny dumped the bucket of gross water in the backyard flower bed. She went back into the garage and rinsed the bucket and sponge in the utility sink, but after a whiff of the sponge, she tossed it into the garbage can and put away the bucket and rubber gloves. Leaving all the minivan doors open would allow the upholstery to dry and air out the smells that not even the special enzyme cleaner could eliminate.

Much better odors hit her when she entered the kitchen. Basil and lemon were the strongest. “What are you making?”

Gene smiled at her as he lifted the lid from a steaming saucepan. “Bruschetta chicken, mashed potatoes, and roasted lemon asparagus.”

She pecked him on the lips as she passed him on the way to the kitchen sink. “Bacon or garlic?”

“Plain considering our patient upstairs.” Gene grimaced before he poked at the contents of the pot with a fork. “I hope I don’t get whatever bug she has. I’ve got that presentation at the hospital tomorrow.”

“It’s not like I want it.” She turned on the faucet and adjusted the temperature. “A puking barista isn’t a good way to make sales.”

“I’m sorry you wasted your time off today.”

The quiet in the house finally registered. The family room TV wasn’t blasting at an ear-splitting level. “Where’s your dad?”

“He ran into Aunt Doris’s roommate from college. A lady named Marian.” Gene grinned. “Doris had tried to set up the two of them, but the timing was never right. So they were going out to dinner and then to the Casablanca re-release at the Bijou.”

“That’s great!” Penny meant it, too. Edward needed someone his own age to hang out with, instead of wallowing over the death of Judy. It had been nearly two years since her mother-in-law had passed away. Edward had withdrawn from everyone. His severe depression had worried both her and Gene.

“It’ll us a little private time. Gene laid down the fork, started to reach for her, and stopped. “Penny, not to risk our marriage, but would you please go take a shower? You’ve got vomit in your hair.”

She reached for the section of her auburn tresses he stared at. Goo met her fingertips. Nausea filled her throat. She turned off the kitchen faucet. “I think I’ll go wash my hair and take a shower.”

* * *

A half hour later, Penny’s clean, damp hair was clipped up and out of her face, and she dressed in sweat pants, a sweat shirt, and her wool-lined leather slippers. She shuffled to Justine’s room and eased the door open. Her daughter snuggled under her lilac comforter, bright red curls spread on her pillow. One hand poked from under the covers to clutch Mr. Roosevelt. The poor kid must really feel rough to allow her favorite teddy bear back in her bed.

Gene left a lined trash can by the bed in case Justine couldn’t make it to the bathroom. Her soccer ball night light was plugged into the nearly outlet. A cup with a sip lid sat on the night stand. Good, the kid had water if she needed it.

Penny closed the door and headed downstairs. Her headache had eased with the hot shower, but it was still there. She hoped it wasn’t a harbinger of whatever bug Justine had picked up.

She frowned as she walked down the hallway. The lights from the kitchen were terribly dim. She looked over her shoulder. The storm hadn’t knocked out the power. The porch light still glowed through the stained glass framing the front door.

Upon entering the kitchen, she found two slim white tapers sitting in the candlesticks she’d bought on their honeymoon. Flames burned steadily from their wicks. Gene glanced at her as he poured chardonnay into a wine glass.

“I kept everything warm until I heard the shower turn off.” He handed her the glass and started poring wine into the second glass. “How’s Justine?”

“Out cold.” Penny smiled. “While I don’t wish ill on our one and only offspring, I’m thankful for a quiet evening.”

“Something happen?”

“Just the usual.” The tension in her shoulders ratcheted up a notch despite her hot shower. “Everything I do is wrong.”

“Sweetie, you can’t take everything Justine says and does personally.” Gene set aside his glass and pulled her into his arms. “Puberty literally drives preteens crazy. All these new feelings. Concerns about fitting in—”

Penny laughed and set her glass on the table. “I don’t need you to shrink me. I need my husband.”

“Your husband would tell you the same thing.” He kissed her forehead.

“Let me amend that.” She smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I need my husband to let me bitch. I’m not asking for you to fix my problems.”

“Well, that’s definitely a switch from my patients.” Gene’s wry smile said he’d had a tough day, too. “While we eat, you can complain, and I will let you.”

“It’s a deal.”

* * *

The next morning Gene insisted Justine stay home from school, just in case. Even though he was following the district guidelines for ill kids, it made him the cool parent. Plus, he made arrangements to do his presentation from home so he could keep an eye on Justine.

Penny swallowed her resentment on the drive to her coffee shop. Java’s Palace was her baby. Opening her own business was the only way she was going to break the glass. But everyone had expected her to give it up when she married Gene.

Everyone except Gene himself.

He loved her and would do anything for her. Including giving her the space to run her coffee shop. Reminding herself of that essential fact eased some of the tightness in her chest as she pulled into the Java’s Palace parking lot.

There was already a line for the drive-thru window wrapped around the back of the building. Valerie Simmons, her assistant manager, had volunteered to open during the school year after Justine’s horrendous time in kindergarten. The woman had been a godsend.

Penny opened the door of her minivan, and a blast of freezing air took her breath away despite her insulated coat. The weather report wasn’t joking about the drop in temperature once the rain front passed through the area. She ran to the main entrance and was met with warmth and the delicious aroma of fresh coffee beans.

The line of customers inside the store matched the line of cars in the drive-thru. With a quick nod to Valerie, Penny strode back to the shop’s office, pulling off her coat as she went. After locking her coat and purse in her cubby, she donned her apron and charged back to the counter.

“Valerie, you take orders,” Penny said briskly. “Josie, why don’t you warm and bag sandwiches and pastries?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Josie said with a grateful smile. The college student looked frazzled, and it wasn’t just her blue curls hanging limply from the heat and humidity of the milk steamer.

Penny slid into action behind the commercial espresso machines while Josie manned the industrial toaster, and Valerie rang up customers and poured regular coffee from one of the three pots on the back counter.

As they worked, Penny talked with her regular patrons about the latest community gossip like the need for a new fire engine and the developer who had been buying several vacant parcels of land around town. Or she did until she heard Courtney Lasser’s fake dulcet tones.

“I’ll have a non-fat, soy milk, sugar-free caramel macchiato.” Courtney turned to Penny. “We need to have a conversation, Ms. Hudson.”

“Really?” Penny returned the faux brightness as Valerie handed her the marked paper coffee cup. “I thought things were settled between Justine and Kenny. She apologized and the coach benched—”

“Penny, you know it’s against the rules of the Oakfield Soccer League for an outside vendor to sell their wares without the board’s permission,” Courtney said with a sickly sweet smile while Penny squirted sugar-free vanilla syrup in the cup.

That smile was so sickly sweet she wanted to smack it off Courtney Lasser’s botoxed face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Penny pressed the button to grind fresh beans when Courtney opened her mouth to reply. Her lips formed a moue of distaste at the clatter and whine of the grinder.

Unfortunately, the grinder stopped too soon for Penny’s taste and she pressed the button for the espresso to brew.

“Helen saw you bring in coffee to sell yesterday,” Courtney continued. “I’ll have to ban you—”

“I didn’t sell anything at the soccer field yesterday, much less coffee.” Penny poured the steamed milk in Courtney’s cup while she spoke. “Just because your friends pay you ahead of time doesn’t mean you can skirt the rules, Penny.”

The headache from yesterday roosted behind Penny’s eyeballs with a vengeance. She dumped the espresso in the middle of the milk foam. “No one paid me for the coffee I brought to the game.” She picked up the caramel bottle, and somehow, she resisted the urge to squirt the contents all over Courtney’s expensive highlights.

“Every other parent brings drinks to the field.” Penny couldn’t stop the contempt dripping from her words. “Why? Neither you or Helen or any other of your perfect moms knows how to brew a decent cup of coffee because you all have your housekeepers do it at home or you come here. So, if you ban me from bringing drinks, you’re going to have to ban everyone, and you won’t be able to be handle the caffeine-deprived hate.”

Courtney stared at her with the same expression of open-mouthed shock as a fish at the Chicago Aquarium had when Justine was five. On the other hand, Valerie tried to stifle a snicker.

Penny drizzled caramel on the milk foam. She popped on the top and slid on the coffee cup sleeve. “Have a great day!” She held out the cup to Courtney with a bright smile.

Courtney’s jaw shut with the distinct click of her bleached teeth. She grabbed the cup out of Penny’s hand and stomped out of the shop on her ridiculously high heels.

Valerie leaned close though there were no more customers in line. “I saw what you wrote with the caramel.”

“You think she’s going to take the lid off?”

“The rest of the staff looks up to you, girl,” Valerie said with a nod at Josie who was refilling the pastry display. “You shouldn’t be writing insults on customer’s coffee.”

“Yes, Miss Valerie.”

“Don’t sass me.” Valerie rolled her eyes. “I’d quit if I didn’t need the health insurance.”

“Nah, you love me too much.” Penny hugged the woman. But Valerie was right. If she expected her employees to treat the customers with respect, she couldn’t be writing “Bitch” on anyone’s coffee.

Even if it was Courtney Lasser.

Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice - Chapter 1

Here's a little taste of a series I conceived in the student pickup line when Genius Kid was a sophomore in high school. Now he's an Army specialist with a little one of his own on the way.

So yeah, this has been sitting on my laptop for a while.

---------------------------

Penny Hudson guided her white minivan into one of the five free parking slots in the Oakfield Recreational Center, trying to ignore the slight pain right behind her eye sockets that had been plaguing her since yesterday afternoon. The trees around the soccer fields had turned from green to gold and orange since last week’s games. Brilliant leaves gleamed against the dark clouds to the west. The falling barometric pressure from the incoming weather front was probably the cause of her headache.

It would be a race between the soccer teams finishing the last round of games for Saturday afternoon and the storm threatening to put an end to park’s activities. No sooner had she put the transmission into park, her daughter Justine yanked the back door of the vehicle open, jumped out, and raced up the sidewalk toward the park gate.

And left the dang van door wide open.

“Puberty, thou art a heartless bitch,” Penny muttered under her breath. Their relationship seemed to disintegrate when Justine turned twelve this summer. The last thing she needed was a major mother-daughter meltdown in front of the other snooty parents and the resulting clucks and advice.

Francine was the only stay-at-home mom who would acknowledged Penny, Wila, and Dani. Her daughter Brittany was a better player than Courtney Lasser’s son, and Courtney ruled the parents of the Oakfield Soccer League with the proverbial iron fist in a velvet glove.

Which meant Francine was persona non grata with the other moms, so she hung out with the other three outcasts.

The crisp fall air and the scent of burning leaves mixed with aromas of the four coffees in the drink carrier sitting on the front passenger seat. Children’s shouts and cheers followed on the wind. She stabbed the button to close the back door. Thank goodness, she managed to talk Gene into the top package with the power doors when they bought the van. Otherwise, she might be tempted to slam the head of their oldest child in the manual doors of her old mini ute.

Penny tucked her purse under the driver seat and collected the drink carrier. With the chill wind and the overcast sky, she was glad she remembered her sweatshirt. She pressed the locking button on her fob. The minivan beeped, its lights flashed, and she shoved the fob into her front jeans pocket.

A brand-new minivan, one she didn’t recognize, was parked near the entrance to the stands. She felt a little sorry for the owner. Courtney and the rest of her stuck-up crew would definitely mock the puke green color. She started to pass it when she spotted the gold Saint Christopher medallion hanging from the rearview mirror.

And the dark-haired woman with her head leaning against the steering wheel.

Penny walked around the van and knocked on the driver side window. Dani Elante jerked her head up and wildly looked around. Penny stepped back as her friend popped open the door.

“You okay?” Penny handed the Valencia double mocha from her coffee shop to Dani.

She took a deep breath of the steam that wisped from her cup. “Yeah. Nothing military school wouldn’t fix.”

Penny rolled her eyes. “Puberty. God’s punishment for one night of fun. If it makes you feel better, Justine began breakfast with the announcement that I needed to start buying her tampons.”

“In front of Gene’s dad?”

“Yep.” They started walking toward the aluminum torture devices the Oakfield Park Service referred to as audience stands. “I then got a lecture from Edward about how it would be my fault if Justine got knocked up before she graduated because I was too permissive with my hippy lifestyle.”

Dani laughed. “But you’re the epitome of capitalism.”

“But according to him, I’m un-American for dressing of a plain cup of joe.” Penny chuckled along with her friend.

Brown and yellow leaves crunched beneath their feet as they walked up the sidewalk to the entrance. They both paid the token one dollar to enter the gate. Courtney’s second in command Helen Chow made a point of glaring at their cups from Penny’s coffee shop while she took their cash, so they made an equal point of ignoring her. A bottle of antacid couldn’t redeem the burnt sludge served at the league’s refreshment stand.

Penny climbed behind Dani to the top of the stands where Wila Ardale had claimed their usual spot. “I see you joined the minivan brigade.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Dani grumbled.

Penny snorted as she handed Wila her white chocolate mocha. “Yes, you did. Chuck was being a cheap ass, and you should have called him on it.”

Dani bristled at the criticism of her father. “It’s temporary vehicle until I can save up for another pickup.”

Penny tilted her head. “His idea of temporary involved you working at the insurance company.”

Danielle winced at that remark. “Marty needs the help.”

Penny snorted a second time. “And every time you try to quit to finish your degree, your dad lays a million reasons on you not to leave, and your brother gives you a raise. When are you going to start living your own life?”

“I like working there.” Dani’s statement sounded half-hearted. “Besides you’re the one saying I didn’t do my fair share of carpooling, so a minivan makes sense.”

“At least mine’s not vomit green,” Penny mumbled into her cup.

Wila leaned over and gave Danielle a knowing wink. “Don’t let her rattle your cage. She’s just saying that because she keeps losing her minivan in the sea of white ones at the mall.”

Penny scowled at Wila. “At least I don’t need to make a spectacle of myself with that bright red atrocity you choose.”

Danielle sighed. “I miss my pick-up.”

“You’re damn lucky that drunk driver didn’t kill you. A truck can be replaced.” Penny took another sip of her coffee. “But you and Mark can’t.” She immediately regretted her words at Dani’s bleak expression. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

Dani waved her free hand and sniffed back the threatening tears. “It’s not like I haven’t been thinking the same thing. Wila can tell you what a mess I was at the scene.”

“Actually, I was more worried Sergeant Park would end up arresting you for murder the way you were beating on the driver.” Wila peered over her shoulder at Dani’s new minivan and chuckled. “Let me guess. Chuck took the best deal on the lot.”

Penny was thankful for the sort-of change of subject. She’d first met Dani shortly after her husband Heath had been killed by another drunk driver. Dani had sat in Penny’s café, staring blankly at the wall while her plain black coffee grew cold. The two women had bonded while Dani tried to put her life back together.

Francine Coy-Astin plopped down next to Dani. “Neal told him he could order a pick-up in whatever color you guys wanted.” Her hot pink manicure contrasted with the olive green liquid in her reusable drink bottle. She must still be on her juicing cleanse.

Penny handed Francine her double French vanilla espresso. She popped off the lid of the coffee cup, unscrewed the cap on her juice, and poured the espresso into the juice.

“Why can’t you drink coffee like a normal person?” Penny said as Francine screwed the cap back on and shook her bottle to mix the contents.

“Because I care about my health and my family’s health.” She took a drink of her noxious-looking mixture. “It’s why none of my family caught that crud you brought back from Florida.”

“Yeah.” Penny rolled her eyes. “I specifically brought back the plague just to infect the entire town.”

She sipped her pumpkin spice latte. The caffeine helped her headache, but the wind picked up, driving dead leaves across the field and sucking away the warmth she got from the hot milk and coffee. The coaches gathered their teams for their pre-game huddle. Justine’s face puckered into a pout when Coach Cordero named the starters who ran out to take their positions.

Justine stomped back to the bench and dropped on it dramatically. At least, the coach had called and discussed the fight between her daughter and Kenny Lasser. Cordero said he would have benched Justine for taunting Kenny at Thursday’s practice regardless of any threats from Courtney. He refused to reward poor player behavior. His even-handedness when it came to the players was one of the reasons Penny loved him as a coach.

The referee placed the ball on the field between the two teams and raised his whistle to his lips. A horrendous boom behind Penny drowned out the referee and his whistle.

Everyone looked behind the bleachers in time to see a jagged fork of lightning split the boiling black clouds rushing in from the west. So much for beating the storm. Another crack of thunder pierced Penny’s ears. Both the refs and the coaches starting blowing their whistles and yelling for everybody to clear the fields.

Francine rolled her eyes. “And I skipped hot yoga for this.”

“If you want to stay up in these aluminum stands and be electrocuted, fine!” Wila stood. “But get your scrawny ass out of my fu—” The rest of her insult was drowned by another crack of thunder.

A blast of cold wind with even colder splatters of rain obviously changed Francine’s mind. She jumped up and headed down the steps. Heaven forbid the weather ruined her perfectly highlighted blond coif.

Dani hung on to her coffee for dear life as she scrambled down as well. Penny followed, praying the rain didn’t cut loose. The last thing she needed was to slip on wet aluminum, tumble down the bleachers, and break her neck. She stepped onto the concrete, and heavier drops splashed on the slab that anchored the metal.

“Come on, Mom,” Justine yelled. She took off for their vehicle, not pausing to make sure Penny followed, Dani’s son Mark right behind her.

“Nice to know they’re concerned about our welfare,” Dani muttered.

Penny held up her keys and jangled them. “But it’s not like they can get in without us.” They laughed and jogged after the kids.

“See you at girls’ night!” Wila waved before heading in the direction of her painfully bright red ride with her son Derek.

Francine said nothing. She was too focused on grabbing Brittany and racing for their own vehicle.

Justine shrieked as the heavy drops turned into a deluge and yanked futilely at the back door latch. On the run herself, Penny hit the button on her key fob to unlock her minivan’s doors. They were both soaked to the skin when they dove into the van.

“This just sucks!” Justine leaned over the center console to shout in Penny’s ear. “Look at my hair! I spent an hour straightening it, and now, it’s going to frizz!”

Penny rubbed her temples with her fingertips. The slight headache she’d chalked up to the incoming storm grew worse. “Please don’t yell at me.” “I’m yelling because-because-b—” Justine jerked back. “Oh, my god! Get the door open! I’m gonna be—”

Penny’s fingers couldn’t move fast enough. Despite Justine’s effort to turn aside, vomit shot all over the minivan’s center console and the right sleeve of Penny’s sweatshirt.

Including the cup holding her unfinished pumpkin spice latte in the minivan’s cup holder.