Cassandra’s store is in a cape house in town, with Game Nights taking place in a large back room turned into some sort of modern-day parlor, both comfy and luxurious.
I’m greeted by Cassandra’s warm hug, the hum of conversations, and the scent of vanilla wafting from soy candles. Some of the older women, including Ms. Angela, are sitting at small tables, playing cards and cackling, while my friends are mostly splayed on a white sectional.
“Still preggo?” I tease Alex. I honestly don’t know how she does it.
She rolls her head on the back of the couch. “Still one month to go.”
“Isn’t it cooked at this point?” our friend Chloe jokes. “I hear the last month is just bonus time.”
“Yeah, let’s go on a hike this weekend,” Grace chimes in. “Give the baby a hint. It could speed things up.”
My friends’ playful concern moves me. We even call ourselves the Bitch Brigade, because we help each other out.
Alex moans. “I don’t think I can walk, to be honest.”
I place my hand on Alex’s belly, hoping to feel the baby kicking. “Might need to morph into the Witch Brigade to get things moving.”
In the back, behind the mirrored bar, our friend Haley is pouring a light-colored wine in stem glasses while Cassandra now fusses over the charcuterie board Chloe brought. “Lemon wine?” Haley asks me, and I nod my assent. “Refills, anyone? Alex, I got your mocktail.”
I help Haley with our drinks then squeeze on the couch between Chloe and Grace while Haley sits in front of us, cross-legged on the thick carpet.
“How’s your mom? I heard she really enjoyed herself at the wedding.” Going by her playful smile, she’s not asking about the cancer.
“What’s up with your mom?” Chloe asks.
I laugh. “Kiara’s uncle Bill drove her home after the wedding, but I can’t get anything from her other than ‘it was just a ride.’” I shrug. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
“Speaking of gossip,” Ms. Angela says, leaning over from her card game and raising her voice so I can hear her, “I saw you and Noah have a long discussion at the wedding. Anything you’d like to share?”
Well, lay it out thick, why don’t you?
Most of the side conversations die down, women lending an ear without being too obvious about it.
“The dancing washot,” Alex teases, her hands on her belly.
“You should have seen them at the river!” Haley says.
“You’re blushing, Willow,” Grace says.
“It’s the wine,” I answer a little too fast. “I don’t even remember what we talked about. We were just getting some air. Why d’you ask?”
“He’s been out of sorts at the store.” Ever since she retired as a teacher, Ms. Angela has been making rounds at various shops around town, tidying shelves, helping customers out, and spreading information like wildfire.
It’s obvious we share DNA, and I want to be her when I grow up. I can’t think of a better way to spend my days than to be in everyone’s business in a helpful way. In another life, I would have been a therapist. But this is the hand I’ve been dealt, and I’m quite content with it.
“What do you mean?” Grace asks. Noah is close friends with her husband, Ethan.
“Something’s been eating at him since Mac passed away,” Haley’s mother, Lynn, says, referring to Noah’s dad. “Such a shame about Mac. He really lost touch with reality when Amy died, didn’t he? It was heartbreaking to see Noah take on so much when he was barely an adult himself.”
Ms. Angela nods. “He started raising them.”
“You all did a lot too,” Cassandra says. “The whole town turned up for the Callaways, but they were just too proud to really let us in. At least Noah was.”
I remember those days. Lane had started losing interest in class, and the guidance counselor asked me to help her with homework after school. He thought we’d be a good fit, and he was right. Despite our age difference of a few years, we clicked immediately. Lane even told me at Kiara’s wedding that she believes my tutoring is what got her back on the right track, and ultimately, to where she’s now.Little droplet of grease.
“But that was a while ago. There’s something else,” Ms. Angela insists, looking pointedly at me.
I give her my best poker face.
