That night, Claire made a trip to Graves supermarket. As she pushed her cart through the aisles and ended the conversation with her best friend Madeline Sanders, who was determined to visit, Claire thought of the shopping list she had forgotten at home. She wasn’t there for snacks or toiletries, her mind was on money and survival. If she was going to take the boat out tomorrow and cross into the strange world, she needed gear that screamed stay back or die.
Claire tossed a flashlight into the cart, followed by a set of knives. Next came a roll of duct tape, rope and a pepper spray canister which she eyed like it was a gold bar.
"I should probably pack more than one of these," she muttered under her breath. Her mind drifted to how she would be able to carry all of these things with her. This led to the aisle where suitcases and bags were neatly arranged. Claire found a medium sized bag, a pair of military like boots, a rain coat. "Emergency medicine," she hissed, "Can’t believe I almost forgot that."
The supermarket did not sell medicine, so she made a plan to visit a pharmacy. In the meantime, she found the fishing aisle and grabbed four big coolers, sturdy enough to hold whatever premium or bizarre seafood she might haul in.
Briarshore was a fishing town, so the fishing aisle was quite well stacked. Claire found everything she could think of and what she had not thought of. She paused at a shelf stacked with small oxygen pumps. For her first fishing trip, no bait had been used. But this time, she bought some in case it was necessary.
Just as she was patting herself on her practical choices, a tall shadow loomed beside her. Claire turned, expecting to see her father’s face as he had driven her to the supermarket. But it turned out to be a middle aged woman, towering, with a few chin hairs catching the light. She had the kind of presence that made you feel like you were about to be interrogated.
"So," the woman said loudly, "you’re Wilder’s granddaughter, the fake heiress the news has been talking about."
Claire blinked. "You must be Mrs. Graves."
The woman laughed, her voice carrying across the aisle. "Albert must have told you all about me. So...don’t play coy. We have all heard that you and Ritah were swapped at birth. It is just like a movie. Rich family, scandals, sisters dating the same man. Quite the drama. We haven’t had something that exciting happen around here for a while. Not since your aunt Dakota eloped with the mayor’s son on his wedding day fourteen years ago."
Claire forced a polite smile, fighting the urge to gasp because nobody in the family had told her about Aunt Dakota!
"Well, are all the rumors about you true?" Mrs.Graves pressed curiously.
Claire kept her smile and replied, "I can’t be sure because there are a million rumors about me right now. They are multiplying faster than coupons on double-discount day."
She pushed her cart and Mrs. Graves followed. The woman wasn’t even alone anymore. Two older women were following from behind and another had stopped to stare from the front. Claire was soon surrounded by locals clutching baskets of bread, milk, and detergent, their eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"Tell us!" someone shouted from the back. "What was it like when you were exposed as a fake heiress?"
"Did you always know deep down?" another shouted. "If it was me, I would have discovered the truth years ago."
"Did they kick you out with nothing?"
Claire gripped her cart handle, trying to stay calm. "Wow! If I had known that I would be this famous I should have signed up to become the host of a talk show in this town."
A few people laughed at her joke.
"Mmm," Claire tapped her fingers on the cart, pretending to think deeply. "It was not like the movies where actresses push each other down the stairs or fight to be favored. In reality, you already know that biological parents will favor their biological child. You just feel betrayed and used, but there is nothing you can do to change the situation. If you are wise like me, you get out and restart elsewhere."
Another voice piped up: "Did your ex-parents really know the truth as early as two years ago?"
Some people in the crowd gasped and started to whisper. Claire had no idea how they had found out such details. Was it her parents or grandparents who spread the story?
"Forget that," an old woman pushed her way through the crowd. "I am more interested in your love life. Wilder’s granddaughter bagged an Ashford! It’s the prince and the pauper!"
The crowd roared with more excitement.
"Can you ask the Ashfords to fix the potholes on 33rd Street? My tractor nearly lost a wheel last week." A man holding a carrot shouted over the crowd.
A young woman chimed in: "Forget potholes--tell your boyfriend’s family to fund new desks for the middle school. The mayor keeps throwing money at the schools in Uppity Briarshore while leaving the ordinary children to drown."
The old woman who raised the question about her love life raised her cane. "Streetlights first! We need more of them but the sheriff and mayor keep talking about budget cuts. Why does Uppity Briarshore get to look like a christmas tree while we walk home in the dark?"
Mrs. Graves frowned. "Eugene, the light outside your house was fixed."
"Well, I want a bigger one." Eugene replied, tipping her chin forward.
Claire looked around for the nearest escape and found none. Mrs. graves was not going to let her check out unless she gave the people something. But she didn’t have anything to give them because she was not an Ashford, the town mayor or the town’s problem fixer!
A woman raised her hand. "The ramp near the playground is cracked and slippery. What are you going to do about it?"
Claire’s eyes widened. "Me! What am I supposed to do about it?"
"And the dock lighting." A man raised his voice. "There has been an increase in the number of tourists. More tourists means more strangers. We want floodlights installed."
Claire was about to huff when a man raised an even more ridiculous problem she was expected to fix!
"The sheriff’s patrol boat smells like brine because they arrested someone smuggling barrels of olives. Can you get them a new one?"
"Forget the boat, the price of milk has gone up." Mrs. Graves leaned against an aisle. "Rich people always know why prices of certain things are rising. Do we have a dairy cow shortage in the country?"
The crowd looked eagerly at Claire, as if she had the answers to all of their problems. Claire stared back at them in silence, unsure of what they were expecting from her.
Luckily for her, Victor showed up.
Her father took one look at the eager crowd and put his hands on his waist. "This is not a meeting in the town hall folks, and my daughter does not work for the mayor or sheriff’s station. You know where to take your problems people. Now move along or I am calling my mother-in-law right now."
The threat worked like magic. The crowd scattered like mice that had seen a giant cat.