I looked around at the padding and clear plastic I’d hung from the walls after sanitizing the garage. The air filtration system was one of the most expensive pieces of equipment I’d bought, but it was working well. I could really use a more expensive scale and an actual water bath, but what I’d finagled together would work in the short term. The space looked slightly mad scientist-y. It wasn’t the nanoparticle lab, but I loved it because it was mine. I was following where the formulas in my brain were leading me, and for once, I didn’t care what the rest of my scientist friends thought.
I sent a picture of the data to Raisa, knowing she’d respond with celebration emojis once she saw it. Raisa had literally squealed when I’d told her I’d gotten Mandy and Leena’s approval to turn their garage into a lab.
She’d been so happy for me that when Jersey and Truck had flown back to the Bay Area, she’d helped Jersey pack my belongings, shipping them to me in New London. With my belongings on their way, it felt like I was sort of moving forward instead of pedaling in place like I had been the last few months. It didn’t relieve the guilt I felt about leaving Raisa without a roommate or a lab assistant, or the guilt I felt about Silas, but it was a start.
When I’d told Raisa about how bad I felt, she’d told me not to be ridiculous. She’d said chasing my dreams and passions wasn’t selfish. It was self-care. While I understood it, I still couldn’t help the feeling of regret at having disappointed so many people.
While Jersey had been happy for me as well, she’d also been concerned, like Silas, about the dramatic change. About me staying in a town that hated the Banner girls. The place she’d gladly left behind.
The day she and Truck had left to go back to San Francisco, she’d hugged me tightly, and asked, “Are you sure?”
I’d responded with the truth. “It feels like I’ve finally come home.”
“I’m going to miss you,” she’d said, hanging on even tighter.
“Honestly, you probably won’t see me any less than you did already.” Because even though we’d lived less than fifty miles from each other, our lives had been busy with our own ventures. Her world was filled with Truck and Nell and her comics. My world was filled with science and school and Silas.
“But I always knew I could get to you quickly if I had to,” she said, worry filling her eyes.
“I have Mandy and Leena. It’s going to be okay. I promise,” I assured her.
Truck had hugged me while Jersey still held on. “Be good, Vi.”
Then, he’d pulled Jersey away, squeezing her hand and sending her reassurances that I loved him for. Nell had waved goodbye with sweet smiles, not even understanding how far we’d be apart.
My phone alarm jangled “Can’t Stop This Feeling” at me from my back pocket, and I sighed. I had so much more to do in the lab, but instead, I put the trays back in their various spots under the heat lamps and in the refrigerator before I made my way to the exit. I pushed aside the plastic and removed the clear goggles I was wearing. I tossed the disposable gloves and shoe coverings before washing my hands at the sink.
It wasn’t exactly a clean room, but it would keep the majority of contaminants out.
I hung my lab coat up on the hook by the side, door and left the building. The warmth of the sun hit me at the same time as the breeze. The mixture of the cold and warm on my skin brought me back to the real world, drawing my mind from the cells that had lingered on the slide under the microscope to Mandy and Leena’s garden full of color. The leaves were changing, the green fading away as fall moved into New England.
I hurried up the back steps and into the kitchen where the oven timer was also going off. The sweet smell of cinnamon and cardamom filled the house like it did almost every morning. The formula for cinnamaldehyde scrolled through my vision. I was confident that using it in my antimicrobial formula was going to be the key to success.
I grabbed a potholder and pulled the apple cakes from the depths before turning to the second oven and pulling out the quiches. I replaced them with the trays of bacon and hash brown patties I’d made the night before so that I could just reheat them this morning.
If I’d had any doubts that staying in New London had been the right decision, it had evaporated when, a few days into my stay, Mandy and Leena had gotten a panicked call from Eli down in Texas. The doctors had placed Ava on bed rest because the baby was trying to come way too early, and it had been obvious that Mandy and Leena wanted to be there to help.
“Go! Between Tami, Saul, and I, we can handle the B&B,” I’d told them.
Tami and Saul Little were semi-retired friends of Mandy and Leena’s. They helped in the mornings at the B&B with cleaning, maintenance, and food prep, which left them free to pick up their grandchildren from school in the afternoons. The Littles also helped whenever Mandy and Leena needed the random overnight assistance, but they couldn’t stay on-site for the six weeks or so Mandy and Leena might be in Texas.
When Mandy had hesitated, I’d pushed.
“I’ll feel better knowing I’m earning my keep in some way.” Because, in typical Mandy and Leena fashion, they hadn’t allowed me to pay a cent toward anything. “It isn’t like you’re asking me to manage the entire business. You can do a lot of it from Texas. I’ll just be your hands and feet on the ground here until you can get back.”
The second call from Eli, saying the doctors had decided to keep Ava in the hospital instead of sending her home, had sent them scrambling for their suitcases. That had been three days ago. Ava and the baby were safe and healthy so far, but I could hear in Mandy’s and Leena’s voices how happy they were to be there.
As for me… I felt lighter than I had in months.
A door upstairs slammed, and I couldn’t help jumping at it, hoping it hadn’t woken any of the other guests. We only had three couples at the moment, but as we slid further into September and closer to October, the reservations were growing. Eventually, we’d max out all six guest suites as New England’s world-renowned autumn foliage beckoned to people.
I was just measuring out the coffee grounds for the percolator when Silas sauntered into the room. Even at seven in the morning, and with no plans to speak of, he wore gray dress pants pressed to perfection and a light blue button-up.
“You’re going to wake up the guests,” I said.
He leaned in the archway, watching me with a frown, hands buried in his pockets. I moved on to cutting and plating the cakes and quiches before starting to assemble the breakfast buffet.
“You seem happy,” he said, and the undertone was sad and painful.
