I held up the envelope, flipped it so she could see front and back and then shoved it into the pocket of my coat.
“Not funny.” Myra advanced. I noticed Crow made himself busy staring at the uninteresting notices and tsunami evacuation routes that covered one of the lobby walls. “Give it to me.”
She wasn’t usually this bossy. Well, no, that’s not true. She was always a bit firm about the things she wanted to happen. But the last year and a half had put a grimness in her I wanted to take away.
So I stood up and gave her a hug. “I’m fine. It’s a letter. Nothing dangerous, Jean isn’t getting any vibes off of it, and it’s a private note—but not from Ryder. I’m going to tell you what it says tomorrow morning because the person who wrote it wants it to be private for a little bit. But I won’t do anything dangerous, and I won’t let anyone hurt me, and I’ll be smart and careful, Mymy.”
I hadn’t meant to say so much, but it all came pouring out of me in the quiet seconds while our cheeks were pressed into each other’s hair.
She finally switched her stiff one-palm-only hug to something with a more familiar squeeze, then stepped away. “You aren’t supposed to be more annoying than Jean.” Her words were light, but the fear in her eyes that she quickly tucked away wasn’t.
“We decided to put annoying on rotation. I pulled the short straw today.”
She nodded, her eyes asking me not to do anything stupid that would make her regret her decision to not read the letter.
I hoped my eyes were asking her to tell me why she was hiding bruises.
“I will besafe.”
She still didn’t believe me, but knew I wasn’t going to back down.
“Donuts?” I glanced down at the bag in her hand.
“Um...yes. New health food bakery is finally open. They’re giving away free samples today. I picked some up to...try.”
Jean snatched the bag out of her hand and opened it, peeking inside. “They smell okay.”
They smelled wonderful. And she would have said so if she weren’t in a “complicated” relationship with Hogan, who owned the best bakery in town.
She pulled out a little glazed apple fritter with a dab of what looked like vanilla cream in the center.
“Apple fritter ala mode,” Myra said. “All organic ingredients.”
Jean raised one eyebrow, took a bite and chewed. “Damn it,” she said.
I held out a hand and she gave me a fritter, then passed one on to Myra. We both took a bite. That little confection was full-on delicious, flaky, rich, and the vanilla must have used sour cream for just the right amount of tart to balance the sweetness of the apple.
It was the best apple fritter I’d ever tasted.
Jean was frowning at her fritter.
“Too sweet,” I said.
“Terrible texture,” Myra added.
Jean flashed us both a smile. Hey, if she was dating Hogan, then that was the only baker who got the Reed sister support.
She handed a fritter to Crow, who wonder of wonders didn’t tell her it was the most delicious thing he’d ever eaten.
“So, I’m outs,” Jean snuck another fritter and tucked it into her cheek as she walked over to the coffee table. She held the bag of pastries over the trash can. “Should probably just toss these out, right?”
“Or,” Myra said quickly, “we could put them on the counter in case anyone else comes by today.”
“Like Roy,” I said. “He’ll be in to work the front soon. He should probably try one just to keep in the know on the new businesses in town. It’s community support and all that.”
The scowl she gave us might have been more convincing if she weren’t busy swallowing her second fritter. “But just this once, right? We allow these in the station for the good of the town. After that, if we eat donuts, we get them from the Puffin Muffin. Because we want to support our long-term businesses too.”
“Yes,” I said.
