Page 24 of A Spot of Trouble
She couldn’t wait to see Sam grovel. Just the thought of him being disgraced like that was altogether intoxicating—so much so that she’d invented a new cupcake for the occasion. Her special today was a warm cinnamon vanilla cake, stuffed with crushed blueberries and creamy custard center. She’d christened it the humble pie cupcake and fashioned the icing to look like crisscrossed pie crust.
Genius as it was, the cupcake was for her, not for Sam. It was simply Violet’s way of venting via whipped butter, eggs, and sugar. She had something entirely different planned for Sam himself. She’d had to make a forty-five minute drive across the bridge to nearby Wilmington last night to get it done, but the result had definitely been worth it. If he thought she was going to just roll over and ignore the ridiculous slip of pink paper he’d given her, he was delusional.
“Good morning, everyone,” she called in a singsong voice as she strolled inside the senior center’s lobby with Sprinkles prancing alongside her.
The bingo setup had been cleared away and replaced with yoga mats in soothing sea-glass hues. Class didn’t start for another twenty minutes or so, but most of her students were ready and waiting, just like always.
Sprinkles paused to sniff at Nibbles, curled into an itsy-bitsy ball on the corner of Mavis’s mat on the front row. Once the Dalmatian had confirmed that the tiny lump was, in fact, a dog and not a wayward snack, she moved on.
“You seem awfully happy this morning, Violet,” Opal said, exchanging puzzled glances with Ethel and Mavis.
Violet beamed as she unrolled her favorite yoga mat, decorated with row upon row of yummy donuts on a hot pink background. “I am. It’s a gorgeous day, don’t you think?”
The retirees all gawked at her.
Violet shrugged. “What?”
“Well, dear, we expected you to still be upset about what happened at bingo night,” Ethel said.
“She must not know,” Opal whispered in a voice loud enough for a room full of elderly yogis to hear her, which subsequently wasn’t much of a whisper at all.
“Obviously not,” Mavis whisper-screamed back.
Violet planted her hands on her hips. “You guys, I’m well aware that Sam Nash is coming here at ten o’clock, and I’m completely fine with it.”
“You’re not mad at him about the other night?” Ethel’s eyes narrowed. “Atall?”
“Nope. I’m fine.” Violet’s smile stiffened. “Totally.”
Okay, maybe she wasn’t altogether fine, but she would be in about forty-five minutes when Sam showed up.
She pulled the lid off the plastic tub and began removing fresh new T-shirts from inside. “Actually, I have a surprise for you all today.”
“What did she say?” Hoyt Hooper said from the back row. “She brought us pies?”
“No!” the man beside him bellowed. “She’s got asurprise.”
Hoyt frowned. “So no pie, then?”
“No pie,” Violet said, trying her best not to sigh. “But here, put this on.”
She tossed him one of the T-shirts and wove her way through the maze of yoga mats, giving each of her students a shirt of their own while Sprinkles stretched into a literal downward dog pose on the donut yoga mat at the front of the room.
“What does this say?” Ethel held up her shirt and squinted at it over the top of her purple glasses. “Is that a tic-tac-toe sign?”
Mavis rolled her eyes. “Get with the times. It’s a hashtag.”
“Hashtag free Cinder.” Opal’s mouth fell open as she stared at the lettering on the front of her T-shirt. “Oh my goodness.”
Ethel blinked. “Isn’t Cinder the name of Sam’s sweet Dalmatian?”
“Yes, and she’s being treated like a prisoner. These T-shirts are a statement. We’re standing up for Cinder’s rights.” Violet pulled one of the T-shirts on and struck a superhero pose.
Once again, Ethel, Mavis, and Opal exchanged glances.
“Stop looking at each other like that. You know I’m right. I tried to give Cinder a treat the other night, and he wouldn’t let her eat it.” Violet crossed her arms and waited for them to react with the appropriate level of horror.
And waited.
