It’s girls’ night, her idea, while Colt and Cash are off handling things at the family bar and brewery in Charlotte. We’ve gathered at Molly and Colt’s house down by the creek that our small town was named after, and after my morning at Mrs. Mayberry’s, I needed this distraction. Rae’s crazy idea of brownies and movies felt like the perfect escape from the chaos of my life and the disappointment over the possibility of losing the house I always thought I’d buy some day.
I chew slowly, waiting for something to happen but nothing does. It tastes fine. It’s a bit earthier and drier than the brownies I usually make, but not bad.
“How long does it take to kick in?” I ask.
Rae smirks and tips the edge of the brownie higher into my mouth, encouraging me to take another bite. She’s the absolute worst influence, and somehow, I adore her for it because she’s made our little girl gang even better. That and she makes my big brother Cash the happiest I’ve ever seen him which is a lot for a guy who never thought he’d settle down.
“It varies,” she says casually. “But eat the whole thing. I didn’t make themthatstrong. One’s enough to have you feeling good, though.”
And feeling good sounds exactly like what I need. That’s why I’m sitting here in the first place, going along with this whole wild idea, to forget, even for a little while.
Forget about how my life feels like it doesn’t have any direction right now.
Forget about the Mayberry property that’s slipping through my fingers unless I can pull off a miracle and find someone that I can tolerate to marry me as part of a contract.
I thought I’d be married by now, maybe even have two kids and a pretty, white picket fence. I thought I’d at least be doing something that I love more than chasing after my brother’s already established dreams in the family businesses. But that dream’s officially gone up in smoke.
And in a cruel twist of fate, last week, I turned down a shocking proposal from the guy that I’ve only been dating for six months. Now, not only do I have zero prospects, but there’s also a realchance someone who is happily married might swoop in and steal what I’ve always considered is myproperty.
The Mayberry Manor next door was my escape as a little girl, where I’d sneak off to admire Mrs. Mayberry’s garden—a patchwork of flowers so vibrant it looked like it belonged in a fairy tale with vines crawling up the side of her home. Her house, with its colonial style and pink trim, was the home I used to dream about. I’d imagine living there, a family of my own filling the walls with laughter.
Out front, there’s the old oak tree with the white-painted swing Mr. Mayberry hung up himself so that his wife could enjoy the spring breeze and the view of the mountains. I spent hours on that swing, pushing higher and higher, while Mrs. Mayberry brought me tea in a dainty China cup, like I was someone important.
She was the mother I never had. She’d sit with me, brushing my wild, dark auburn hair, asking about my plans for the future. My answers were usually scattered and changed daily, daydreams more than anything, but she listened, really listened to me, which was more than anyone else at that time did. It was my escape from my older brothers who’d tease me relentlessly about princesses and dolls.
Mrs. Mayberry never had children, and I always thought she’d leave the house to me. It was a silly, unspoken promise I’d clung to and shouldn’t have. But now, with her aging, ready to retire in a smaller community in Whitewood Creek and the house in limbo, I’m starting to realize how fragile those dreams really are.
I finish the brownie as Lydia continues typing furiously on her phone, her brows pinched in irritation. Rae claps her hands, looking far too pleased with herself, while Molly leans against the kitchen counter in her Whitewood Creek police departmentuniform, watching us like a disappointed older sister despite being my age.
“Well, I’m off on patrol,” Molly says finally, grabbing her keys. “I’ll be home in four hours. Light shift. Please, for the love of God, don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone. If I get a call on the scanner because of you all, girls’ night is over until Cash and Rae build their home and can host it there.”
“Bye, Molly!” I call out brightly, waving as she heads out.
When the door closes behind her, I turn to Rae. “So… am I supposed to feel something now, or…?”
Rae doesn’t answer right away. She heads to the kitchen, grabs a bottle of water, and settles back in front of the TV, scrolling through channels at lightning speed until she finally responds. “Give it a few minutes. Let’s watch something while we wait.”
I sit cross-legged on the floor, the tray of brownies still within reach, and try not to overthink it. The room feels calm and the air stale. I glance at Lydia who’s still typing on her phone with laser focus. Rae, meanwhile, is locked in, fully absorbed in her search for the perfect movie. And me? I’m just sitting here, waiting for something to kick in and wondering why the idea of brownies and a movie is the best plan I’ve had all week. Maybe the weed will give me an idea on how I can turn this day around for the better.
“Who are you texting so angrily?” I ask Lydia, trying to see what’s on her screen.
She doesn’t even look up. “No body worth mentioning.”
My brows jump. That’s unlike Lydia. Usually she’s sunshine, levelheaded and the first to give a person a chance. Whoever it is must really be pissing her off.
I shift my attention back to Rae, who’s practically bouncing off the walls now. Her energy feels like it’s about to combust, a stark contrast to Lydia right now who’s usually sunshine and rainbows. But the brownies aren’t mellowing Rae out. In fact, they seem to have the opposite effect. Then again, maybe this is just her post-engagement high. Ever since my brother Cash proposed a month ago, she’s been weirdly… cheerful. I guess that’s what happens when you meet the one and fall in love.
I sigh and glance down at the plate of brownies again. One more won’t hurt, right? Before Rae can catch me, I swipe another and shove the whole thing into my mouth in one go. It’s fudgy, extra gooey, and undeniably rich. This one definitely has more of the special butter she mentioned.
“I didn’t know weed brownies were supposed to taste this good,” I mumble, licking a bit of chocolate off my finger.
“They’re amazing, aren’t they?” Rae grins without turning to look at me, clearly proud of herself. “I told you they wouldn’t be too strong. I haven’t had them since college, but this felt like a special occasion and since Cash isn’t in town, he can’t tell me to slow down.”
“What’s the special occasion?” I ask.
She rocks side to side. “Uh, you, of course. Stepping into your power.”
I snort. “You mean because I turned down Declan’s proposal?”
