“Are you not from here?”
“No, I’m not,” I reply. “I just moved here from Maryland.”
“Oh my goodness, girl! I didn’t realize you were a newbie!” She laughs and shakes her head. “You live on the east side of Cascade Falls. Everyone who lives east of Main Street is an Eastsider. The Westsiders are kept on the other side of Main.”
“Kept?”
“Yes, kept.” She makes the clicking sound with her tongue again. “My goodness, I’ve got a lot to tell you. Can’t have you roaming the streets all willy-nilly. Sit down, girl.”
She grabs my hand and pulls me to the couch.
“There are some things you should know about Cascade Falls, Ohio,” she says rather ominously. “For starters, you settled yourself on the east side, which is a blessing. Here, we take care of each other. The Westsiders are greedy bastards who only look out for themselves. When you go to do your shopping, you stick to the Eastside Shopping Plaza. That’s where you find your Kroger and your Target stores for everything you need. There’s a nice little salon there, too, and I’ll tell Sally about you so she’ll give you a discount on your hair and nails.”
“Oh, thank you. That would be nice.”
“Sally is a riot. You’ll love her. Do you dance?”
“I like music, at least.”
“There’s a nice club with a bar and a dance floor just a mile from here. All the young crowd goes there. I can’t remember the name of the place, but my nephew Reynolds is the bouncer at the front door. I’ll text him.” She pulls out her phone and taps at it for a moment. “There’s a cover charge, but all that money goes back into the community.”
“It does?”
“Oh yes. The owners are quite the philanthropists. The Orso family has been in Cascade Falls for generations—own most of the property around here—and they’re very big about giving back to the Eastside community. They don’t actually own our building here, but if I were ever to move, I’d definitely go to one of their buildings. This one is owned by one of their associates, though, and that’s a blessing, too!”
“Why?”
“Security. They’re big on security.”
“I guess that would be a plus. Is there a lot of crime around here?”
“Oh, no, no!” Jessie looks toward the window, her shoulders tense. “I mean, there aren’t any break-ins or burglaries or anything like that around here. Maybe some petty stuff every once in a while. Kids getting into fights and whatnot, but you can blame that on the booze.”
“That’s good to hear. I’ll just avoid those kids.” I grin, but Jessie doesn’t seem to notice as she goes on to the next topic of interest.
“With the Winter Lodge place so close, there are a lot of tourists who come through. Cascade Falls is big on its tourism.”
“I’m sure that brings a lot of money into town.”
“Absolutely! If you ever want to stay there, it’s quite nice, and they give residents a discount. At Christmas they have a beautiful tree lighting ceremony with Santa and elves and everything. You aren’t Jewish, are you?”
“No,” I chuckle, “I’m not. I celebrate Christmas.”
“Oh, good. I didn’t want to sound insensitive. It’s a very nice ceremony and not really religious or anything. We are very commercial about our holidays here. Hot cocoa and maple candy are more common than mangers, and there isn’t a wise man to be found anywhere!”
Her laugh is infectious, and I can’t help but join in. She gives me a quick overview of her late husband’s antics with power tools, and I’m pretty sure the stories all come from old episodes of Home Improvement, but I don’t say anything. I can barely keep up with her rapid change of topics, and my head is starting to spin, but I’m definitely starting to like her. I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling since she attacked me with the cookie plate.
“Did you know we make maple syrup and candy here?” Jessie says, changing the subject yet again. “That’s one of our big industries.”
“I had no idea.”
“Oh, yes! The woods north of town is one of the largest maple forests in the United States! We have a big maple syrup festival in the spring. Cider and fresh donuts! They go right to the Winter Lodge afterward, so if you can’t make it to the festival, you can still get some there. Now, there’s a tourist shopping area near the lodge. Unless you want a Cascade Falls keychain or something, you shouldn’t need to do any shopping there. Do you use credit cards?”
“Well, uh, yeah. Sometimes.” What a strange question!
“Cash is better, dear. My finance guy would tell you that.” She reaches over and pats my hand. “Don’t use your credit cards unless it’s at the Eastside Plaza.”
“Why not?”
“You never know,” she says with a tight-lipped smile and then immediately changes the subject. “Do you need a quilt for your bed?”
“A quilt?”
“Yes, hunny. It gets cold here in the winter, and everyone needs a quilt for their bed. I’ll make you one.”
“Make me a quilt?” I shake my head rapidly. I know how much work goes into making quilts. Aunt Ginny always priced them high at the antique shop. “You don’t have to do that!”
“Nonsense! I need to keep busy, or retirement will send me to an early grave! What’s the point in saving up to retire early if I die of boredom at sixty?”
I try to protest, but she won’t have it. In the end, I tell her my favorite color is blue, and she goes into the bedroom to measure the bed so she’ll get the right fit. I stay in the living room, casually opening one of the unmarked boxes and wondering where to start with the unpacking. Jessie returns from the bedroom, tapping at her phone.
“Reynolds says the club is called Big O. No wonder I couldn’t remember it. I can’t even remember what a ‘Big O’ is.” She laughs hysterically. “I’m sorry, hunny, did that make you uncomfortable? I shouldn’t be so risqué when we only just met though I think the club is somewhat to blame for starting the whole thing.”
Before I can let her know that I’m not offended, she’s off again.
“Do you cook?” Jessie asks as she roams back to the kitchen. “I have a brand-new frittata pan I could bring over for you. My son gave it to me for Christmas, but I can’t stand eggs. Do you like eggs?”
“Yeah, sure. I guess so.”
“They are a good source of protein. That’s what he told me. He’s a personal trainer and always on me to eat healthy. I don’t listen, but that doesn’t stop him from talking!” Her laugh permeates the small apartment. She stops abruptly and puts her hands on her hips. “Well, do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Cook.”
“When I have to, I guess. It’s not my strong point. I’m more likely to nuke my evening meal than anything else. I haven’t managed to get to the grocery yet, so all I have right now is some microwavable noodle bowls.”
“I guess that will do for now.”
“Does your son live here in town?”