Thyme for Love – stiff

Here’s a snippet from my current work in progress, Thyme for Love.

Sally and Izzy’s relationship was heating up, until she got a little snippy on their last phone call. This week we’re writing to the prompt ‘stiff’. Return to TUESDAY TALES for more great snippets.

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A long silence filled the airwaves between them before Izzy replied. “Well…all right then. You’re right. You did say that. Sorry. I thought you’d still need to eat. I guess I was wrong.”

“You’re pissed.”

“No. I’m not.”

“I can tell by your voice. You’re not the same warm Izzy I know.”

“I think I can say the same thing. I don’t think I’ve met the woman who bit my head off a moment ago.”

Sally sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m past tired and have too much still to do this week.”

“That’s fine. I do too. Sorry I bothered you. I’ll see you Saturday.”

The phone clicked in her ear before she could say anything else.

Well…of all the nerve! Although she knew she really deserved that for how she’d snapped at the man. Just because he’d offered her a nice romantic dinner. She held up the phone, to call him back. Then, she rethought her decision. Maybe it was better if they had a reprieve of a day or two.

The next few days passed in a blur. Between her duties at Crafter’s Cottage and this blasted herb festival, Sally didn’t know which end was coming and which was going. I’m never volunteering to organize this stupid event again, she fumed inwardly.

By Wednesday night it dawned on her that Izzy had never called back. Maybe I should call him. Before she could reach for her phone, it rang. The local honey vendor had some last minute questions. By the time they finished, the thought of calling Izzy had fled.

Thursday wasn’t any better. For some odd reason, her store was busier than usual. It seemed she was waiting on customers or ringing up sales all day. Good for her business. Not so good for the list of last minute calls she needed to make. By four o’clock it finally quieted down and she started dialing, hoping she could catch the people she needed while they were still open for business.

Thank goodness she was so anal about follow up calls. The porta-potties weren’t scheduled for delivery the next day. Someone obviously keyed the order wrong. They were scheduled for next month. Which wouldn’t do the few thousand people they expected this weekend a whole lot of good. She finally got that corrected and now they were slated for an 8 am arrival the next morning.

It wasn’t quite five, but she went ahead and switched her ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and locked the front door before continuing with more calls.

She confirmed the hay bales that she’d ordered for makeshift seating on the empty corner. The city had the staging to create a spot for demonstrations. Meaning another call to the clerk’s office, to remind them to set up that area the next day. Sally started calling the list of people who had agreed to provide the demonstrations and entertainment. She got about a third of them. The rest went to voice mail and she crossed her fingers that they’d all hold up their commitments.

And before she knew it, it was after ten and was much too late to be calling Izzy. Again.

Well, he hasn’t called me either, she reasoned.

Because you told him you needed all week to work, a little voice in her head reminded her.

“Oh God, when this is over I’m going to need a long, stiff drink,” she voiced out loud, to no one in particular, seeing as how she was the only person standing in her store.

The next morning, after meeting the flatbed truck delivering the porta potties, and directing where they needed to be situated, she started pacing out vendor spaces and marking them with lines. Halfway down the street, she glanced at her watch and saw it was almost ten. She sprinted down the block, waving to Victoria at Serendipity on the way. Fortunately, her friend, Helen, arrived for duty promptly at ten. After a quick thirty minute training session, Sally left the store in her capable hands and went back to marking the rest of the places for the various vendors.

When she got to the corner, where Izzy had a double spot for his herbs, her heart fluttered at the thought of him. She realized that they hadn’t spoken all week, after she snapped at him Monday night. That’s it, I’m calling him, she thought. But when it rang and rang and finally went to voice mail, she hung up without speaking.