“Told you,” Kori sang.
I looked down at mine. “I might need another one.”
“That’s why you buy two.”
“You bought two?”
Kori lifted the bag sitting beside her.
I laughed. “You have a problem and I am mad at you for not buying a second one for me.”
“I have foresight.”
For the next hour, we wandered.
And laughed a lot.
I bought a jar of honey I absolutely didn’t need because the man selling it convinced me his bees were happier than other bees. I wasn’t sure how anyone measured bee happiness, but he’d been convincing enough for me to hand over eighteen dollars.
Crystal bought flowers.
Kori bought earrings, a loaf of bread, some kind of spicy cheese, and another cinnamon roll.
“You already have another one,” I pointed out.
“That one’s for later today.”
“And this one?” I laughed.
“Tomorrow.”
“Do cinnamon rolls have a retirement plan in your house?” Crystal asked.
“They don’t live long enough.”
Fair enough.
We stopped at a table covered with candles. I picked one up and smelled it, then immediately pulled it away from my face. “No.”
Crystal laughed. “Bad?”
“It smells like a man named Earl who owns six ferrets.”
Kori grabbed it. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Smell it,” I insisted.
She did. Her face twisted half a second later. “Oh, my God, that is Earl who I think might own ten ferrets.”
“Exactly,” I laughed.
“What is that supposed to be?”
Crystal read the label. “Woodland Musk.”
“That’s not woodland musk,” I said. “That’s Earl.”
The woman working the booth glanced our way. I quickly put the candle down. “Walk.”