Something catches in my breath. “Oh.”
“Hurry up over there, lovebirds,” Clarice snaps. “Mabel brought strawberry pretzel salad, and I can’t wait to dig in.”
Stone’s expression shifts to intrigue. “Strawberry pretzel salad? That will either be amazing or make me vomit.”
I laugh and finish taping around his legs. “It’s pretty amazing. As long as you like cream cheese, Jell-O, strawberries, and pretzels, you’ll love it.”
“I could dig it.”
I finish taping around Stone and he gets up. “Ladies, you’ve successfully killed me. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“Let’s give him a hand,” Clarice says, and they clap, congratulating Stone on his performance.
The rest of book club dissolves into a light sprinkling of conversation about the novel, people gushing over Mabel’s strawberry pretzel salad (which is amazing, as always), and the ladies thanking Stone for coming and telling him they hope he visits again, though next time it would help if he read the book.
They also ask about the resort—how it’s going, et cetera. Stone keeps his answers generic.
As the women clean up and book club winds down, Clarice makes a point to approach Stone. “I gotta admit, I had you pegged all wrong.”
Even though I’m picking up paper cups and plates, I pause to listen.
“How’s that?” he asks.
“When I overheard you tell Isaac to fire that guy because he left some bricks in the wrong place, I thought you were one of the coldest-hearted sons of bitches I’d ever encountered. To be honest, when I saw you were here, I thought,Oh, great, which one of us will he try to fire from book club?But you didn’t. You were a good sport, and for that, I thank you.”
Stone looks dumbfounded for a beat, but then he smiles and recovers. “Yeah, that was quite a moment I had about those bricks.”
Clarice claps his shoulder. “Stick with Coco. She’s good for you.”
Soon as Clarice steps toward the door, the women surround Stone to say their goodbyes.
He says all the right things: “I had a great time at book club ... Yes, I loved being the dead body ... Hit me up next time you need someone to act it out.”
I catch him looking at me as he says goodbye to Mabel. He quickly glances away, and my stomach tightens.
I pick up several more cups and drop them in the kitchen trash before scurrying outside.
“Clarice?”
“Yes?” She slowly turns. I scan the street and don’t see any sign of her tractor, which means she caught a ride with someone—probably Cristina.
“I have a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
I suck in a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “Back when there was first magic in town ... I’ve heard the stories of people with abilities.”
“What about it?”
“Well”—I twist my fingers—“is there any truth to what happened, like people disappearing and all that?”
Her eyes narrow. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know, just wondering.”
“This is God’s country. Back when the magic happened, it was one thing for the unicorns to appear, but magic in people?” She shakes her head. “They were seen as working for the wrong team. Do I agree with that? Do I think unicorns are devil-worshippers? ’Course not. But you can’t change what people think.”
“But what if that person couldn’t help it?”
