She’d been a good wife to Ben. Or maybe she hadn’t been.
Maybe she’d been a human ice sculpture lying in bed next to him. That was how he made it sound. That was why he’d said he had to reevaluate.
“We’re going to be okay,” Nora said, her tone way more determined than she felt.
“We are?” Soraya asked.
“Yes,” Nora said. “We’re going to be okay. We’re resourceful women. We’re going to find everything we need to navigate whatever is coming.”
“I’m going to need a job,” Daisy said. “One that’s flexible, because of my kids.”
“I’ll need a job other than my baking. I’m starting to sell loaves of sourdough at different stores, but I’m one person, and there’s no way I can support myself on bread alone.”
“Jesus said that,” Nora pointed out.
“That’s not quite what Jesus said.” Soraya took a breath. “But someone will have to take a thirty-five-year-old woman with no job experience.”
“You have skills,” Nora said.
“You never think it will be you.” Soraya scrunched her eyes up, like she was trying to hold her tears back. “This happened to one of my mom’s friends, and everyone ostracized her. She couldn’t get work because no one wanted to hire a woman with no education and no experience, and I judged her like everyone else. Now I am her.”
“We’ll be okay.” Daisy reached across the table and put her hand over Soraya’s.
Nora settled her hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “We will.”
Soraya looked down. “Okay. We will.”
Goose bumps rose on Nora’s arms, a chill coming through the front door of the restaurant as it opened.
“Ready?” she asked, suddenly feeling restless.
The other two nodded, and Nora signaled to their waitress. They split the check three ways, then walked downstairs and back out onto the street.
“I’m parked up that way,” Soraya said.
Nora jerked her chin the same direction. “I’m that way too.”
They began to walk toward the park, when Nora noticed a store she hadn’t seen before. “What’s that?”
A building wedged between the yarn store and a brewery had its lights on, when it had been dim and empty for months.
There were really only two kinds of businesses in town. The kind that came and went in less than a year, run by people who had fantasies about cute, cozy stores but were unable to handle the reality of the harsh churn of doing business in a town where crowds ebbed and flowed with the seasons.
Or businesses that had been there for thirty years or more. Fixtures that never seemed to go away. This storefront was one that often rotated, and it had gotten to the point where she didn’t really notice when it changed hands. She often didn’t bother going inside. Why get attached?
But this one stopped her.
There were brooms in the windows and hanging herbs. A large wooden sign readLady’s Mantle Apothecary.
“Oh, you didn’t know about this?” Soraya asked. “It’soccultic.”
“What?” Nora asked.
“It’s ... it’ssatanic,” Soraya whispered, like she was concerned people would think she was being rude saying the store was satanic, though saying it anyway.
“Satan? Sounds fun.” Nora grinned.
Soraya gave her a look that took Nora right back to high school.
