I’m pulling out of the parking lot when someone taps on my passenger window.
Emma from the café. I roll down the window.
“Hey, Rachel. How are you holding up?”
“I’ve had better weeks.” I try to smile. “You?”
“Same. Still job hunting. Still broke.” She leans against the car. “Listen, I just wanted to say… ignore the gossip. People are idiots. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”
“Thanks, Emma.”
“I mean it. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re just unlucky.” She straightens up. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re handling everything really well. Better than I would.”
It’s such a small kindness, but it nearly breaks me.
“That means a lot. Really.”
“Hang in there. And if you need anything—coffee, venting, someone to yell at the universe with—call me.”
She walks away before I can thank her properly.
At least one person in this town doesn’t think I’m cursed.
***
Dorothy’s house is on the east side of town, near the park. A small bungalow that she’s owned since her early thirties.
I knock on her door, soup container in hand.
“Just a minute!” Her voice sounds stuffed up.
She opens the door wearing a purple cardigan and slippers, looking exactly like someone fighting a cold.
“Rachel! Oh, you didn’t have to—” She spots the soup. “Is that homemade?”
“Chicken soup. Mom’s recipe.” I hand it over. “Figured you could use some comfort food.”
“You’re an angel.” She steps back. “Come in, come in. I just made tea.”
Her apartment features a floral couch, lace doilies, and framed photos covering every surface. It smells like lavender and old books.
“Sit, please.” Dorothy sets the soup in her tiny kitchen. “I’ve been going crazy cooped up in here. You’re my first visitor all week.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Better today. Still congested, but the fever broke.” She pours tea into delicate china cups and hands me a cup. “How’s Tommy? How is he handling everything? The fires must be frightening for a five-year-old.”
“He’s resilient. Bounces back faster than I do.” I take a sip of tea. “He thinks firefighters are superheroes now. Wants to be one when he grows up.”
“Better than wanting to be a YouTuber, I suppose.” She settles into her armchair. “And how are you? Really?”
“Surviving. Barely.” I set my cup down. “Derek showed up at the house yesterday unannounced. Started making threats about the custody hearing.”
Dorothy’s expression hardens. “That man. I wish I could give him a piece of my mind.”
“You and everyone else.” I lean back against the couch. “But he’s right about some things. I am unemployed. I am living with Jake. I was at two fires. On paper, my life looks like a disaster.”
“On paper, my life looks like I’m one step from a nursing home. But I’m not dead yet.” She picks up her tea. “You’re a goodmother, Rachel. Anyone with eyes can see that. Tommy’s happy, healthy, and loved. That’s what matters.”
