Cupcake Club 04 - Honey Pie by Donna Kauffman Page A

you.”
    â€œWhat brings you to Sugarberry? Here to pay your respects? She wasn’t buried here, you know, her—”
    â€œHer ashes were sent to me,” Honey finished evenly. “I’ve just driven across the country, spreading them everywhere she asked me to.” Honey also had a container from her own catalog—one Bea had chosen herself, in fact—to put the remainder in, for Honey’s keeping. She smiled, thinking of the whimsical female garden gnome Bea had chosen. Short and stout, much like her aunt, with a basket of fabric scraps over one arm, and a fairy wand in the other.
    Alva’s expression softened then, as did her tone. “Well then, you’ve paid your respects quite handsomely it would seem. I’m glad to hear you were able to do that for her and for yourself. My condolences on your loss.”
    â€œThank you. And condolences to you as well. She told me many wonderful stories about Sugarberry and all of her friends here. You all meant more to her than you’ll ever know.” It was comforting to learn that her aunt’s passing had been noted, and that she was missed. Honey’d had the stray thought that, other than her customers, there really wasn’t anyone left who would miss her when she was gone. And that was a rather chilling idea, when she thought about it like that.
    â€œI suppose that’s your car over at Mr. Dylan’s garage then,” Alva said. “I noticed the Oregon plates,” she added, when Honey looked surprised. “I know Bea hailed from there, way back.”
    Very way back. Honey’s mother had loved Juniper Hollow, but her baby sister, Bea, had escaped it as soon as she was able. “Yes. I’m afraid the old car has a few issues. More than a few. I was lucky to have made it all the way here, I guess.”
    â€œWell, it’s seen a few years.”
    Honey smiled sincerely. “It was Bea’s. She left it with my mom before heading off on one of her jaunts, and never quite made it back to pick it up. She handed it down to me when I was old enough to drive and I’ve had it ever since. I know it’s seen better days, but I haven’t had much need for a car, and I don’t want to give it up if I don’t have to.” She glanced through the screen door and across the alley, only she wasn’t seeing the VW in her mind’s eye. She was seeing Dylan Ross. Steamy, jean clad, broad shouldered, brooding Dylan Ross. She blinked that image away and turned back to Alva. “I’m afraid the cross-country drive was its final bow, too.”
    â€œWell, I can’t think of a more fitting way to go, but I wouldn’t count her out just yet. If anyone can get your car up and running again, it’s our Mr. Dylan. Looked to me like you brought a fair bit more than your aunt’s ashes with you. Planning on staying a spell?”
    Honey was saved from answering that particular probing question, or asking just how Alva knew what Honey had packed in her car, when Lani returned to the kitchen by the back door.
    â€œDoes Kit think the new packaging will work well with that size cupcake?” Alva asked her.
    â€œI don’t know, but we’re going to find out,” Lani said, sounding excited. “I see you two have met.” She smiled as she turned to Honey. “But we haven’t, not formally anyway.”
    â€œI’m Honey D’Amourvell.”
    â€œBea Chantrell’s niece,” Alva offered, ever-so-helpfully.
    Lani’s face brightened. “You’re Honey Pie? Oh, Bea told us so many stories.” She reached out quite naturally to take Honey’s hands, and, acting purely on instinct, Honey jerked them behind her back.
    Even as Honey’s face flushed in mortification, Lani was laughing. “I washed the frosting carnage off my hands, honest!”
    Honey wished she was fast enough to pretend that was her concern, but her cheeks were