Stay Sweet(86)

“Sadder than you know,” Tiggy answers cryptically.

Except Amelia does know. She’s read Molly’s diary, cover to cover.

“Well . . . ,” Amelia says. “I’m glad you decided to come to visit. You heard right, I’m afraid. This is going to be the last summer of Meade Creamery.”

“Well, you ought to take that picture down, now that Molly’s gone.”

“Do you want it? Nobody will mind if you take it.”

Tiggy laughs heartily. “Me? Want that? Lord no.” She looks over her shoulder to make sure no one is behind her. “Molly would kill me for telling anyone this, but I never forgave that son of a bitch.”

Amelia’s eyes go wide. And Tiggy’s eyes, old and watery and cloudy as they are, twinkle. She leans in close. “Have you ever held on to a secret for so long that you nearly burst?”

“Yes,” Amelia answers without hesitation. The fact that she is in possession of Molly Meade’s diary.

For Tiggy, this seems to be the right answer. “The story of this place, of those two right there, it’s not what you think it is.”

Amelia feels unsteady. She knows the story. She knows it straight from Molly’s own pen. So what could Tiggy be referring to?

Tiggy shakes her head, puts a finger to her lips. “I’ve already said too much. You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. But I’ve always hated that she kept his photo hanging up, after everything that happened.”

“She did it because she missed him,” Amelia answers automatically. “Because when she was making ice cream, it was as if . . .”

Amelia’s rote performance comes to a halt as she sees Tiggy rolling her eyes, almost bored. “Yes, yes, dear. I know that story.”

That story. As if there were another one.

“We didn’t know her,” Amelia says apologetically. “Not really.”

“People knew what she wanted them to know. Being a war widow is very good for business.”

It feels almost crazy to say out loud. “So . . .Wayne didn’t die in the war?”

Tiggy looks around again, the secret almost on the tip of her tongue. “Aw, heck. I might not live to see another summer, and what good is a story this delicious if you don’t share it?”





CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR


TIGGY ENTERS THE OFFICE AND settles onto the yellow love seat, rubbing both hands across the fabric. Amelia pulls up a chair close to her, and they sit across from each other, one of the first Meade Creamery girls opposite one of the last.

And as Tiggy relays the story, Amelia is easily able to picture it, playing like a movie in her mind. How, at first, Molly did think Wayne was dead. How depressed she’d been, how she blamed herself, how guilty she felt that they’d been fighting.

“The strange thing is that no official word ever came. But we thought it was only a matter of time.”

But near Christmas, Tiggy and Molly had been together in Molly’s basement, listening to records and wrapping presents. And Wayne came in through the side door.

“I don’t know where he spent those months since the war ended, but he’d clearly been injured,” Tiggy says. “He was walking with a limp.”

Molly was so shocked she clung to him. And Tiggy, even though she and Wayne had had their differences, rushed over to him too. But Tiggy could tell right away that something was wrong with Wayne. “He had wild eyes,” she says.

When he saw Molly’s setup in the basement, it was as if he’d caught her cheating. He told her in no uncertain terms that he wanted her to give up the ice cream stand. He wanted one normal thing back, the life they were supposed to have together.

Tiggy continues, “She thought he was joking at first. We both did. And Wayne took great offense at our nervous laughter. He said Molly didn’t have to work anymore, now that he was back. Perhaps it was because he and Molly had been out of touch so long, but she told him no straightaway. She said, No, I will not, and I think he just about fell over because she’d never spoken in such a way to him before. There was more argument, and they were both struggling to keep their voices down, and eventually Molly stormed out.”

Wayne followed her. Quick, like a hunter. “That’s when I began to get scared,” Tiggy admits. “I was grabbing him and begging him to please calm down. He lit a cigarette and they continued to fight and he threw his cigarette aside. A few minutes later we saw smoke. The barn had caught fire.”

Molly screamed, “Wayne! Help me!” Because all the Meades’ dairy cows were inside.

And Tiggy says Wayne just stood there, frozen.

“Do you think he did it on purpose?” Amelia asks.

She sighs. “I’m not sure. I ran up and put my hand on Molly’s shoulder, to let her know I was there. Come on, I said, pulling her back to the house, saying we needed to wake her dad and her brothers, even though I knew it was already too late. And Molly looked at Wayne and said, Go. And that’s just what he did.”

Amelia holds herself. She can imagine how scared Molly must have been. But also, she’s in awe of Molly’s strength. Her presence of mind.

Tiggy stares off, unfocused, for a second or two. “I once asked Molly what she felt, seeing Wayne go, and do you know what she said?”

Amelia can barely breathe. “What?”