Page 20 of With Stars in Her Eyes
Jeannie nodded. “I’ve never seen it myself. Been in plenty of blizzards and never seen it.”
“It happened once when I lived in Connecticut, but I slept through it.”
Another flash of blue cast harsh shadows on our reflected faces.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Thundersnow.” I matched Courtney’s awed volume.
The last full blizzard to hit Huntsville happened when I was too young to remember it clearly. The metric ton of snow the sky had dropped over the last few hours gave me newfound respect for winter. I just wished I had found that respect when my second-to-last client warned me about the increasingly apocalyptic forecast.
I turned to Courtney. “Why didn’tyougo home? Didn’t the bookstore close an hour ago, even if y’all had kept normal hours? And I’m sorry, but you own the plant store, right?”
The old woman pulled off a glove and extended her hand. Her fingers were rheumatic and gnarled, probably from years of digging and pruning. “Jeannie Gallagher-Keegan. And yes. Guess I forgot my manners for a second.”
I took off my own glove and shook her hand.
My initial impression of this woman when she had given me a mild tongue-lashing for parking in the wrong place when I interviewed at Squid was that she was scarily stern. But up close, there was a nearly constant twinkle in her eye. Up close she had a beautiful if careworn face with high cheekbones. Her features recalled photos I had seen of Audrey Hepburn in her later years.
The front of Courtney’s coat wriggled. I took a jerking step back, fearing the return of the roving reptile.
Jeannie’s whoop of laughter filled the candlelit bookstore. “Don’t worry. It’s not Billy.” She patted my hand. “Yes, I heard what happened.”
I groaned.
Courtney unzipped her coat a few inches and out popped a tiny snout.
“Oh my god, is that a—”
“A potbelly pig,” Jeannie said. “The runt of a litter. One of my employees called me, carrying on because this little fellow was going to be stuck here over the weekend after his surgery because she couldn’t get back in time to pick him up. This storm rolled in early and took us all by surprise.”
“Why is hehere? Specifically, in your coat in abookstore.”
“Remember what I said about boarding animals?” Courtney frowned. “He kept crying at the vet’s office because he’s terrified of other animals, and they called to see if he could come over here. The power was flickering on and off earlier when the wind started picking up. I closed up the shop and I went home to grab some emergency stuff. I was going to take him home with me, but I got worried he’d jump out of my coat and get lost. After I finally got him calmed down, Ms. Jeannie showed up—”
“So…” I turned to Jeannie. “You hollered at me five seconds ago aboutmebeing out in the storm thatyouwere just out in too even though you’re…”
“Even though I’m what, exactly?” Jeannie stood several inches shorter than Courtney, nearly half a foot shorter than me, yet somehow in pure haughtiness she towered over us both.
I cleared my throat. “Um…”
The pig’s small snuffling sound interrupted the tension. He nestled himself against Courtney’s chest but eyed me with more suspicion than should be possible for a potbellied piglet.
“For the record, I think y’all made the right call on keeping him here. The snow’s twice his height.” I held out my hand to the little piglet, letting the warm snout nudge it and sniff. “What’s his name?”
“Baxter.” Jeannie’s eyes smiled.
I smirked at the piglet. “It suits him.”
“I think so too.” Courtney nuzzled Baxter with her nose.
Another flash of blue pulled my attention back outside. When I turned back to face Courtney, her face was pulled tight in a wince. Noticing my attention, she smoothed her features.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“Head hurts a bit. I’m fine.”
Jeannie’s attention snapped to Courtney. “A headache or a migraine, kiddo?”
“A migraine. The pressure changes can make them worse. This one’s not bad though. I swear.”
