Hell's Belles (12 page)

The next morning, Dad woke Annie early to help him bake more Halloween treats. As Lexie had predicted, many people in the neighborhood had begun placing orders for baked goodies to serve at their costume parties and post-trick-or-treating get-togethers. Word of Dad's talents had spread and business was beginning to pick up.

Lexie had also come over to Rosie Lee's and was using washable paints to decorate the shop windows with ghosts, goblins, and skeletons.

Finally, Dad slid the last batch of cupcakes into the oven and took off his apron.

“Those are the last two dozen,” he announced. “Mrs. Helmsford will be in to pick them up at noon. She wants them frosted to look like miniature mummy heads.” He gave Annie a sideways glance. “And speaking of mummies . . . I spoke to your mother last night.”

Annie cringed. She'd been expecting this conversation.

“She tells me you were snippy with her when you Skyped.”

There was no point in denying it, so Annie just shrugged. “Guilty as charged,” she said with a sigh.

“Look, Beanie. I know things are complicated between Mum and me, but she's your mother. And that means you treat her with respect.”

“Okay,” said Annie, nodding. Then she drew a deep breath. “Did she tell you she wants me to quit derby?”

At the window, Lexie stopped painting and turned to Annie. “You didn't tell me she said that!”

“I was trying to pretend she hadn't,” said Annie. “Well, Dad? Did she tell you I had to quit?”

Dad, who was wiping chocolate batter off his hands, cleared his throat. “She may have mentioned something to that effect, yes.”

“And what did you say?”

“Well, I told her I felt the same way she did at first. Then I casually suggested that if you did quit derby, you might give cheerleading a try.”

“What?!” said Lexie.

Annie was shocked. “Dad! I would never.”

Dad grinned. “Well, I know that. And you know that. But Mum doesn't know that. Then I described to her the way the Liberty Heights High cheerleaders build those enormous human pyramids and then do backflips off of one another's shoulders or get flung up into the air.”

Annie laughed. “You didn't!”

“Sure I did. And I think she got the picture.” He raised his eyebrows and put on a Transylvanian accent. “Danger is lurking every-vare, no matter vut sport you choose!”

Lexie laughed. “Good for you, Mr. Turner.”

“That's Count Dracula to you, missy!” Annie's dad said.

“Maybe I should design a costume for you, too.”

But Dad shook his head. “Thanks anyway, Lexie, but I've already got one.” He reached under the counter and pulled out a shopping bag. “I picked these up yesterday.”

“These?” Annie felt worried. “That's plural.”

“Yes, it is. And I'm glad to see you're learning something in high school.”

“Dad, what's in the bag?”

In reply, he pulled out an intensely hairy werewolf mask and slipped it over his head.

“Oh, wow!” Lexie cracked up. “Aren't there rules in the food-service industry? I think you'd better get a hairnet . . . fast!”

“The sad part,” Annie said with a laugh, trying to smooth down the tangle of hair that stuck out all around the mask, “is that this isn't really all that much worse than his normal hair!”

“She's got a point,” said Dad, his voice muffled inside the rubber head. “I do kind of like the fangs, though, don't you?”

“All the better to eat gingerbread skeletons with!” joked Annie.

Then Dad pulled a second costume out of the bag. “I got this for you,” he said, handing her a black conical hat.

“Dad, really?” Annie sighed, remembering his brilliant idea to dress her up as Queen Elizabeth II for the grand opening of Rosie Lee's. “Again?”

“This is entirely different. This time you'll be a very funky witch. Our beloved queen is
not
a witch!”

“She's not particularly funky, either,” Lexie observed.

Then Dad produced a stack of flyers he'd printed out.

COME TO ROSIE LEE'S AND SIT FOR A “SPELL”YOU WON'T KNOW “WITCH” OF OUR TASTY TREATS YOU'LL WANT TO BE “GOBLIN” UP FIRST!

“Do I really have to?” Annie grumbled, eyeing the costume. She had to admit it was a major improvement over the frumpy queen outfit — it was a little black velvet minidress with flowing lace sleeves. The hat, on closer inspection, was dotted all over with colorful little jewels and the tights were pink and green neon stripes. Still, she'd much rather hand out the ads dressed in jeans and a jacket.

Dad, concealed behind the werewolf mask, began to whimper like a hurt puppy.

“Aw, c'mon, Annie,” said Lexie, biting back a grin. “How can you say no to that?”

“Fine,” huffed Annie. “I'll do it.” She looked at the stack of flyers, and inspiration struck. “As long as you let me hand out the Liberty Belles flyers at the same time.”

“I can live with that,” said Dad, lifting the mask and giving her a smile.

Minutes later, Annie emerged from the little office behind the kitchen wearing the crazy tights, dress, and hat.

“That's actually pretty cute,” said Lexie.

Annie checked her reflection in the glass of the pastry display case and was pleased to see that Lexie was telling the truth. But she still wasn't thrilled about parading up and down Main Street in costume, no matter how well the dress showed off her legs. Her ankle was well enough that she could manage on one crutch and carry the flyers — Dad's and hers — in her other hand.

“Well, ‘witch' me luck,” she said, heading for the door.

For the next twenty minutes, she stood on the pavement outside Rosie Lee's feeling like an absolute idiot. Two grade-school boys rode by on bikes and laughed at her.

“Don't you know Halloween isn't for two more weeks?” scoffed one.

“Oh, shut up or I'll turn you both into toads!” muttered Annie.

The boy stuck his tongue out and they rode off, laughing.

Annie approached a sweet-looking elderly couple who were out for a walk. “Hello there!” she said, handing them a flyer. “You two look like you might enjoy a freshly baked cake and a cup of tea.”

“Sounds delightful,” said the old woman.

Annie opened the door for the couple and they ambled into the shop. She could hear them exclaiming over the delicious aromas as the door swung closed behind them.

When she turned back to scan the foot traffic on the pavement, a familiar face caught her eye.

“Coach Ritter!” she called, waving.

The coach was holding the hands of two of the most adorable little kids Annie had ever seen.

“Annie, how nice to see you.”

“Mommy!” cried the older one, a girl, ducking behind her mother. “She's a witch!”

Coach laughed. “Don't be silly, Abigail. It's only a costume. There's no such thing as witches.”

“Your mum is right,” said Annie, giving Abigail a big smile. “I'm not a witch, but I am . . . a roller girl!”

Abigail's big green eyes lit up. “For real?”

“This little guy is Brandon,” said Coach Ritter. “Abbey, Brandon, this is my friend Annie. Say hello.”

“Hello.”

“Hewwo.”

Annie giggled. “They're so cute!”

“Thanks.” Coach smiled fondly at her two children and tousled their red hair. “They're also quite a handful. We've been shopping all morning, and I'm exhausted.”

“You know what you need, don't you?” said Annie, grinning.

“You mean besides a nanny?”

“How does a nice hot cup of pumpkin spiced tea and a cinnamon apple muffin sound?”

Coach smiled. “It sounds incredible.”

“Then follow me!” Annie led her coach straight to the door of Rosie Lee's.

Inside, Coach helped the kids off with their jackets and hung them on coat pegs; she lingered there, her eyes flicking over the notices on the bulletin board while Brandon and Abbey ran straight for the pastry display.

“Mommy, can I have a cookie?” cried Abbey.

“Cupcake!” said Brandon.

Unfortunately, Dad picked that moment to come out from behind the counter wearing his werewolf mask. Abbey let out a terrified yelp, then ran shrieking to hide behind her mother.

“I'm sorry!” said Dad, quickly tugging off the scary rubber head. “Look, look, it's only a mask, sweetie. I'm not a monster, I'm just a person!”

Abbey peeked out from behind Coach Ritter, sniffling, but still didn't make a move to come out from her hiding place. Brandon, on the other hand, went directly up to Annie's dad and kicked him soundly in the shin. “You scawwed my sistuh!”

Dad yelped, just like Abbey had.

“Brandon!” cried Coach Ritter, clearly mortified. “That wasn't nice.”

“It's all right,” said Dad, smiling as he rubbed his lower leg. “He was just protecting his big sister. I'm actually very impressed with his heroism.”

“Me too,” said Lexie, offering Brandon a high five. “Way to go, little guy.”

“Around here, we reward heroes with gingerbread skeletons,” said Annie, limping around to the back of the counter. She took two warm cookies off a baking sheet and brought them out.

“For the brave hero and the damsel in distress,” she announced, sweeping an elegant bow to each of the children.

“Thank you,” said Brandon, taking his cookie and chomping off the skeleton's head. Abbey giggled, then took a bite of her cookie too.

By now, the elderly couple Annie had coaxed into the shop had finished their refreshments and were making their way to the door.

“Hope you enjoyed everything, folks,” said Dad, waving. “Please come again.”

“Oh, you can count on it,” said the old man.

“The cookies were delicious,” his wife added, patting little Brandon on his head as she passed, then pointing to Dad's shin. “But we especially liked the exciting floor show.”

When they were gone, Annie, Lexie, Dad, and Coach Ritter burst out laughing.

After adjusting her glitzy pointed hat, Annie left Coach and her kids to enjoy their cookies and tea and headed back outside. She handed out flyers for Rosie Lee's to everyone she saw — but she was far more selective about who she “invited” to the bout.

Families with energetic young kids definitely got the derby flyer, as did tweens and teens who looked sporty, or artsy and creative. Snobby-looking women or girls in designer clothes yapping on mobile phones did
not
get the nod. Neither did suit-wearing businessmen. Annie wondered if she was being just as bad as Mum in reacting to stereotypes, but she couldn't waste the bout flyers on anyone who seemed stuffy or overly boring.

Dad had been right about the witch costume, though. Most people were already in the Halloween spirit and when they stopped to admire her spooky-cute look, they couldn't help but notice Rosie Lee's. And since the day was crisp and cool, a good amount went in for a take-out cup of tea or coffee. The jangling of the little silver bell on the shop door made pleasant background music for Annie as she schmoozed with shoppers.

During the lulls in people passing, she'd go to the café windows and annoy Lexie, who was still painting them from the other side, by making faces and doing silly little dances on her one good foot.

Lexie had finished her goblins and was now painting a cemetery scene on the large main window. A tombstone for the dear departed (and fictional) Rosie Lee was the centerpiece of the mini-mural and the headline (which had been Annie's idea) read “Our Baked Goods Are to Die For.”

Annie stood at the window and pressed her nose to the glass, which made Coach Ritter's kids crack up.

Strange that they stayed so long,
Annie thought. Coach was on her second cup of coffee and the kids had graduated from cookies to cupcakes. There were no customers waiting to be served, so Dad, ever the gracious host, had sat down at the table with Coach Ritter and they seemed to be having a lively chat.

“Love the raven!” said Annie, pointing to the big black bird Lexie had painted in the upper corner of the window. She danced around, flapping her arms like a bird and making squawking noises.

“Oh. My. God.”

Annie froze. The voice was unmistakable. And it was right behind her.

She turned slowly and came face to face with Kelsey, whose expression was a mixture of amusement and disgust.

But that wasn't even the most humiliating part of the situation.

Kelsey wasn't by herself, or even just flanked by her two usual sidekicks.

She was standing there staring at Annie with half the cheerleading squad and at least eight soccer players.

One of whom was Tyler.

“This is absolutely pathetic,” said Kelsey to the sidekick on her left, Ginger. “She's so desperate for attention she's dressing up in costume and dancing on the street.”

“Pathetic,” said Ginger with a smirk.

“At least she's dressed appropriately,” noted Lulu, sidekick number two.

Kelsey gave Annie a long once over. “True. I mean, she is a total witch . . . give or take a letter.”

Kelsey reached out and snatched one of the derby flyers from Annie. Without even glancing at it, she crumpled it up and tossed it to Tyler.

“Cut it out, Kelsey,” he grumbled, stuffing the flyer into his pocket.

Annie wasn't sure if he was just embarrassed by Kelsey's rudeness, or if he was actually defending Annie.

Just go,
Annie willed silently.
Take your nasty little popular clique and be on your way.

With a flick of her hair, Kelsey started walking. But luck was not on Annie's side today. At that moment, Dad, still sporting his stupid mask, pushed open the café door and let out a long, wolfish howl.

“Hey there, boys and ghouls!” he called. “Anybody hungry?”