“Better than Old Ashton’s bakeries, right?” I asked my full-mouthed friend.
Maggie finished her bite, trying not to laugh. “I don’tknow. The Breakfast Stop’s burnt bottoms give these a run for their money. I’ve grown fond of them.”
Rolling my head back, I grinned. The Breakfast Stop, a bakery in Old Ashton, had the worst food. They were good for people on break who only had ten minutes to eat anyway, but for anyone who enjoys savoring their food, we knew better.
My grin faded and I leaned into my chair. “I miss people watching there,” I admitted. “Seeing all the office-room officials in their best suits running down the street with coffees in their hands and bags of bread between their teeth.” Maggie and I would watch from our window in the store, trying to decide who was getting fired and who would still be there the next week.
A soft smile flashed over Maggie’s face. “Yeah,” she nearly whimpered. “I miss it, too.”
It grew silent between us for a moment. Our friendship had come to such an abrupt halt, neither of us had time to process it before having to figure out the next steps. Who stayed after hours and judged passersby? Who bought her the best socks and candles? Who would help me lace my corsets? The answers weren’t there. And they wouldn’t be.
Maggie knew it, too.
Perking up, I leaned over the table and smirked. “You ready for stop number two?”
Next: Goldie’s Market, where the apples were crisp and the juice freshly squeezed. Maggie, being very into cooking, baking, and healthy eating habits, loved fresh fruits and veggies, so I knew she’d love it. Like a kid in a candy store, shetrucked down the aisles with baskets of groceries too heavy to carry by herself.
She picked up several cartons of blackberries and closely examined them from all angles to check their quality. The ripeness, the colors, the plumpness—it all mattered to her. She checked dates and skipped down aisles with a hand swooshing her skirt around. And like a loyal spouse, I followed and carried her bags.
We walked out with two loaves of bread, three cartons of berries, two jugs of juice, and a bag of Faye Augustus’s homemade candies. We even sold the last of our bouquets. One to a woman shopping and four to Goldie for the market and Rabbit’s Foot.
Along with her other souvenirs, my arms were beginning to lose feeling before we found a spot in the grass of the square to sit on.
I unhooked the handles from my skin, rings of red marked up and down my arms. But as Maggie plopped a candy in her mouth and her eyes grew ten sizes, the numbness in my limbs disappeared. Crossing my legs, it hit me she’d be leaving soon. If only I could keep a copy of her with me at all times. I wouldn’t be eating Maggie’s pies anymore. I wouldn’t have her juice blends for breakfast or hangovers. I probably wouldn’t even be eating my daily portion of vegetables without her cooking them the way she did.
Gods, I’ve been spoiled.
“We talked enough about me earlier; how’s the shop?” My head shot up. “How’s Tommy?”
Her cheeks blushed. “Tommy is fine, and the shop is fine, too.”
There was more she wasn’t saying. “Is Tommy helping out and everything?”
Maggie tilted her head side to side.There it is.“Tommy only stays a couple nights a week. They aren’t moving right in. We’re taking it a bit slower…”
A mature decision, I supposed, but it left Maggie alone with the shop. Instead of asking, I waited, and she continued.
“You remember how I told you Maxie ran off with a group of benders a while back?” Maxie, Maggie’s little sister, practiced bending magic and found a wild group of circus actors around her age. After swearing she wanted to do it professionally, she took off. “Yeah, well that didn’t work out, so she’s going to need a place to stay for a bit and I figured why not try the sibling business thing?”
Not surprised. Maxie gave it a whole two seconds of thought before packing her bags. Being the little sister of three, she tended to be restless, reckless, and spontaneous in an uncontrollable way. She dressed in black dresses and kept her hair short, a very unique persona and very different from Maggie and their older sister.
“Oh, that’d be awesome if it works! Have you told your mom or Thea?”
A quick “Nope” answered that. “Maxie doesn’t want them knowing yet.”
Valid. Thea, the eldest, was a scholar and a bit pretentious when it came to their family. She wore her title proudly, as sheshould, but didn’t always understand her sisters’ outlooks on life.
“So… you’ve got it under control?”
From under her lashes, my friend glared at me. “Do you?”
A cheap laugh bubbled my cheeks. “Fair enough.” We’d figure it out eventually—heavy on theeventuallypart. “You know, this is the first time in years we have problems we can’t solve together.”
“I know,” Maggie agreed. “Why do you think we haven’t figured them out yet?”
I whined. “Sad day, isn’t it?” I faced her. “Having to solve our own shit.”
“Torture, honestly. I call bullshit.”
