Chapter One
Bend, Oregon
“Ms. Weaver? Andrew keeps poking me.”
“But he started it!” Andrew protested.
“Nuh uh. Josh saw you.”
Josh confirmed Andrew had started it, as did a few other students.
Ann drew in a deep breath, counted to five, then slowly let it out. A glance at the clock showed another ten minutes until school let out for the week.
She gave the young troublemaker her stern face. “Andrew.”
All it took was his name. He burst into tears and started stammering apologies. If only they were all so easy to manage. She broke apart two more squabbling seven-year-olds before returning to Andrew.
God, what a long week. I need a drink.
After calming him down, she restored order to the class. For once, it took little effort to get them to clean their desks before struggling into their jackets and backpacks.
“Ryan, put your jacket on.” That one was always trying to sneak around in short sleeves, and with early October bringing a bite to the air, she knew his mother would appreciate him bundling up.
He smiled, showing a missing front tooth. “Yes, Ms. Weaver.”
Once the scamp put on his jacket and got in line with the others, she checked the time and gave a sincere smile just as the bell rang. “Okay, guys. See you Monday.”
With a cheer they left the room to their parents and bus lines, and Ann puttered around the room so she too could leave. The weekend couldn’t have come at a better time. Though school had recently started, Halloween already loomed on the horizon. The kids had started chatting about costumes and candy, excited about the prospect of a parent-endorsed sugar rush.
Her phone buzzed and she read the message. She texted back a confirmation on wine night at Riley’s. A professional baker, Riley always had the best goodies at her house. She was their go-to girl for gatherings since Maya could barely boil water, and Ann couldn’t compete with Riley’s prowess in the kitchen.
More than ready to head out, she left, talking to current and past students as she started her walk home. On her way, she saw Josh hanging out of the car waving madly. She knew he lived close by.
“Bye, Ms. Weaver!”
She smiled and waved back. Next to him she saw Laura Bloom, his grandmother, driving. Nice family…if one could forget about Jack Bloom. Even after all this time she hated to think of him, but having his nephew in class made it difficult to pretend he didn’t exist.
She put him out of her thoughts, as she routinely did these days, and finished her walk home in peace. After tidying up the small cottage she’d been lucky enough to purchase, she changed into comfy clothes and read a book, wishing she’d had the funds to accompany her parents on their two month tour of Europe. Must be nice to retire, she thought, imagining her mother’s fascination with touring ancient castles and her father’s annoyance at managing the conversion rate of the Euro.
A few hours later, she left for Riley’s with a bottle of wine, a plate of cheese and crackers and a solid attitude. She didn’t even have to knock before the door opened.
“What took you so long?” Riley frowned at her, then smiled seeing the wine. “Ah. The price of admission. Welcome.” She took the food and wine from Ann’s hands before Ann could offer them.
“I feel so used.” Ann brushed past the chef of the Terrible Trio—what friends and family had labeled them back in elementary school—and found Maya sitting on the couch, already drinking. “Am I late?”
The frown on Maya’s face didn’t detract from her beauty. With rich coppery skin, dark hair, and dark eyes courtesy of her mother’s Native American roots, she made Ann feel like a pale frump by comparison. The blah redhead with freckles and an odd penchant for tanning—her one saving grace considering most redheads burned.
“I had a hell of a day,” Maya complained. “I mean, bad with a capital B.”
“Don’t ask.” Riley closed and locked the front door before making a beeline to the kitchen. Already the smells of freshly-baked something made Ann’s whole world better.
“So what happened?” Ann smirked when she heard Riley’s muffled groan.
“I’ll tell you what happened,” said Maya. “Some creep decided he didn’t like my prices on Etsy so he started two-starring my stuff. I mean, you don’t like the work, fine. But to rate me low because I charge for shipping, like everyone else? Suck it, dickhead.”
“Nice mouth,” Riley yelled from the kitchen.
Ann turned. “Why are you yelling? You’re like four steps away.” In a house with an open floor-plan. Just as cute and tiny as Ann’s place, Riley’s had all the charm of a fairytale cottage. Wooden floors, creamy walls, comfy furniture. And that dream kitchen where good, sugary things came to life.
