A Biscuit, a Casket by Liz Mugavero

even when everything around her was in a state of upheaval. It was
     one of the reasons Stan had taken to her so quickly after moving to Frog Ledge—that,
     and her dogs, Baxter the boxer and Elvira the poodle. Her tears were unsettling. “I
     didn’t realize you were friendly with the Hoffmans. Did you know them well?”
    Izzy abruptly turned and began cleaning her espresso machine. “I get all my milk and
     cream from the farm. Hal gives—gave—a special discount for local businesses.”
    “But did you know him personally?”
    “Of course I did. We were pretty much neighbors. He came in for coffee a lot. One
     of the few locals who did.” Izzy tossed her rag into the sink.
    “I’m sad for his family. That poor woman, with four sons.” Stan wanted to ask if she
     knew Emmalee, too, but a young college-aged woman approached the counter. Stan stepped
     to the side.
    Izzy pasted a smile on and took the woman’s order for an egg-white wrap with spinach
     and a nonfat latte.
    “Can I get you something to eat?” Izzy asked Stan when the woman moved down the counter
     to wait for her food. “You must be hungry. I’m sure you didn’t eat anything after
     last night.”
    “Oh, I’m not really hungry.” Even as she said the words, Stan’s stomach growled. She
     recalled she hadn’t eaten dinner last night. She’d been so worried about not having
     enough treats for the party that she’d baked extra and run out of time to cook for
     herself. And after all the excitement, eating hadn’t even crossed her mind.
    “Here. I have quiche.” Izzy spun to the case behind her and sliced a generous piece.
     Stan could see greens and reds mixed with the egg-colored delight.
    “What’s in it?”
    “Red pepper, spinach, garlic, and onion.” Izzy put the plate in the microwave and
     hit the buttons. “You should eat.”
    “I won’t argue. I’m stopping by the farm when I leave here. I’m sure I’ll need strength
     for that.” Stan sighed just thinking about it. “Do you know Emmalee, Hal’s wife?”
    “Not really.”
    “I thought she did most of the deliveries,” Stan pressed.
    “She never came in here?”
    “Maybe once or twice. Why?” Izzy sounded annoyed. Stan shrugged, wondering why her
     friend was getting defensive. “Just wondering. Does she have people to help her with
     the farm? I mean, what’s she gonna do?”
    “No idea. Maybe the co-op farmers will help.” Izzy pulled the plate out of the microwave
     and set it in front of Stan. “Careful, it’s hot.”
    Stan picked up her fork and sliced off a steaming piece of quiche. “What do you mean,
     co-op farmers? This smells amazing,” she said. Took a bite, nodded. “It is amazing.”
    Izzy inclined her head in agreement at the assessment of her cooking. “The Happy Cow
     products aren’t just from the Hoffman farm. There are four other farms that sell their
     products under that name.”
    “Really? How does that work?”
    “The farmers are the board. They vote on the major decisions, and all the products
     from each farm are labeled Happy Cow. But Hal ran the whole show.” Her eyes welled
     up again and she busied herself straightening the goodies in her pastry case.
    There had to be something more to Izzy’s story about Hal supplying her with milk and
     cream for a discount. Izzy didn’t get teary eyed often. Stan would’ve loved to continue
     the conversation, but a bell over the door jingled and a group of girls came in laughing
     and talking loudly. Izzy sighed, but stood up and put her hostess face on.
    Stan scooped up the last bites of quiche and deposited her plate. “Gotta go do this
     visit. Let’s take the dogs out later.”
    Scruffy and Henry loved Izzy’s dogs. Baxter and Elvira had also recently welcomed
     an addition to the family—Junior, an elderly yellow Lab who found himself homeless
     through an unfortunate recent chain of events. The three dogs had bonded quickly,
     and Junior had taken on a father figure