by Ellery Adams
June frowned. “I don’t know. What do you think, Nora?”
“Bren’s hostility was directed at both of us,” said Nora. “Maybe she was embarrassed, but it was still a pretty strong reaction.”
“Another possibility is that she hates older women,” suggested Estella, her eyes dancing with humor. “You’re both old enough to be her mother. And by old, I mean over forty.”
June glared at her. “You’re turning forty this year, Jessica Rabbit, so you’d best mind what you say.”
Estella ran a finger across the flawless skin of her cheek. “But I’ve mastered the fine art of contouring. Everyone thinks I’m Hester’s age, and I plan to maintain the deception as long as I can.”
Hester rolled her eyes. “You’re gorgeous, okay? Can we get back to last night?”
Estella mimed zipping her lips and reached for her wineglass.
“When someone freaks out at me, it’s usually because my skin isn’t the same shade as theirs,” Sheldon said, his gaze on June. “We’ve talked about this. So tell me, mi querida amiga, was the goth girl mad at both of you? Or just you?”
After a lengthy silence, June said, “I don’t know, it really got to me. I barely slept a wink at night.”
June’s friends were familiar with her regular bouts of insomnia, but she told them that last night was especially bad. After giving up on sleep, she’d gone out for a long walk, accompanied by the troop of cats that were always present during her nocturnal strolls. She’d walked until she felt tired, but when she finally crawled into bed, she’d been too haunted by the pain she’d seen in Bren’s eyes to rest.
Nora understood. As tired as she’d been when she went to bed, she couldn’t quiet her mind. She kept thinking about Bren. Finally, she’d drifted off, but her sleep had been fragmented and she woke up with a fuzzy head and a dry mouth.
“Why would she be rude to people trying to help her?” Hester asked. “If she’d been drunk, her behavior would make more sense.”
Nora said that she hadn’t smelled alcohol on Bren’s breath.
“But she might have been using,” June said. Her only son was an addict, which meant she recognized the signs. “It was too dark for me to see her pupils, but the vomiting and irrational anger make it a possibility.”
Estella held up a finger. “Wait. If Bren’s the muffin maker, could she have sampled certain ingredients too many times?”
“She could chug a gallon of CBD oil and still pilot a rocket,” Sheldon said testily. “CBD and THC both come from the cannabis plant, but only THC can get you high. I hope Celeste has lots of signage or she’ll go blue in the face explaining this to people.”
June picked up the wine bottle and topped off everyone’s glasses. She skipped Nora’s, because she was drinking Perrier instead. Settling back in her chair, she said, “I’ve heard positive things about CBD. Plenty of lodge guests have inflammation, autoimmune disorders, or both. The mineral waters ease their discomfort for a little while, but they can’t take the water home with them. They have to rely on CBD pills and salves for pain relief.”
Sheldon’s face darkened. “It’s either that or an opioid addiction. I came close, and let me tell you, it’s hard to pull back.” He took a fortifying sip of wine. “The problem with chronic pain is the chronic part. The damn thing won’t go away. You can eat the right food, meditate, and all the other bullshit the professionals tell you to do, but none of it works. You hurt. You can’t work. You can’t go out to dinner. You can’t sit in a movie theater. You can’t drive a car. And you can’t find a treatment that gives you your life back.”
“It’s a barrel of laughs sharing a house with this man,” June said.
“You love having me there. It keeps all your church friends guessing.” Sheldon gave June a one-armed hug. “You and me. Two boomers shacking up. Watching TV together. Sitting on the porch and talking. You know those ladies don’t believe you when you tell them that I’m an asexual. You know they think I’m ravishing you every night.”
June grunted. “Please. This is my sixth decade on this earth. The only things that can seduce me are a comfy chair, a good bottle of wine, and a movie starring Denzel Washington.” She pointed at the surrounding shelves. “And books. Not all of them. To me, getting lucky is reading something so magical that I’m put under that book’s spell. That book owns me. I can’t think about anything else until I finish it. And I can’t think about anything else for days afterward. And the next book I read is doomed. It can’t take the place of the magic book. But I keep reading. I keep reading because I know that feeling will come along again.”
“You should put that on a throw pillow,” Estella said.
“If I could make it fit, I would.” Nora smiled at June. “I loved every word you just said. That’s how I want people to feel when they see our window display. I want them to fall under a book spell.”
Hester jumped up. “Put on some music, Nora. Let’s make some magic.”
Later, while Sheldon, Estella, and Hester hung a backdrop of shimmery midnight blue, June and Nora transformed a pair of faceless, genderless, poseable mannequins into women of power.
June’s woman wore a loose red skirt woven with filaments of gold, a beaded leather belt, a white peasant blouse, and a shell necklace. A headscarf covered part of her long, black wig.
“She’s rocking the Native American, African, and Romany look,” she said, standing back to admire her work.
Nora’s mannequin wore the black and red skirt of a flamenco dancer and a T-shirt embroidered with an evil eye inside the hamsa hand of protection. She had Buddhist prayer beads around her wrist and a Celtic knot tattoo on her bicep. A gold laurel wreath crowned her wig of curly brown hair. “Middle Eastern meets Celtic meets Spanish meets Greco-Roman.”
“Our dark-haired story stirrers,” June said.
Seeing the distant look in her eyes, Nora lightly touched her arm and asked, “Are you thinking about Bren?”
“I can’t seem to stop.”
Nora understood why her friend was having a hard time shaking last night’s encounter. June had been estranged from her son, Tyson, for most of his adult life. She’d made a mistake at work that had ultimately cost him his college scholarship. Afterward, he said that he’d never speak to her again. He moved to LA where he became a small-time drug dealer. And a user. He rang in his thirtieth year by stealing from a much bigger dealer. After losing the money, Tyson traveled across the country. He planned to steal from his mother, but he was arrested instead.
Sheriff McCabe had Tyson transferred to a secure treatment center. It was an hour away, and June visited whenever she could. There was nothing she wanted more than to reconnect with her only child.
“Are you seeing things through Celeste’s eyes?” Nora guessed.
“Yeah. If Bren was my child, I’d want to know about last night. We should tell her.”
Nora nodded. It was the right thing to do.
“Tomorrow is Soothe’s grand opening. I’ll swing by with a good luck dollar. I still have the dollars people gave me when I opened.” There was a smile in Nora’s voice when she said, “Hester’s was the best. She drew a picture of a donut over Washington’s face and taped the bill to a bakery box.”
June didn’t look impressed. “I’m assuming there was a donut inside.”
“A cinnamon bun, actually. The sweetest, stickiest, most delicious thing I’d ever tasted. I think I fell in love with Hester a little bit that day.”
“I don’t know how her man stays so thin.”
Nora carried her mannequin into the window. “He has the metabolism of a hummingbird. He can eat and eat, and none of it sticks. Lucky bastard.”
“It won’t last,” said Sheldon, patting his round belly. “I was thin once too. In, like, 1967.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing about you.” Estella kissed him on the cheek and turned to Nora. “We all want you to see the final result as if you were a customer, so find something to do in the back until
we come for you.”
Nora took out the trash and washed their wineglasses. She wiped off the counters and the coffee table. Finally, Sheldon appeared at the readers’ circle.
“Go straight outside. Do not look at the window,” he commanded.
Nora moved through the store and out to the sidewalk, where the rest of their friends waited.
“Keep facing the park!” Sheldon shouted. “I’m just turning off a few lights. Would you look at that? The Fifth Avenue of Miracle Springs is back! Hold on, Nora.” A few seconds later, Sheldon took Nora’s hand and whispered, “Turn around, bright eyes.”
Nora turned.
The window practically thrummed with magic. The centerpiece was a faux cauldron positioned over LED flames. Flowers, birds, dragons, cats, and butterflies spewed out of the pot. Because they were made of white tissue paper, the shapes looked ethereal. Ghostlike.
The books featuring magical women stole the show. Thanks to clear acrylic shelves affixed to the back wall and a halo of white lights encircling each book, they seemed to float in midair. Sheldon had enhanced this illusion by positioning color-changing nightlights behind the cauldron. Nora stared as the shadow shapes shifted. The women stirring the cauldron shimmered with life. The books glowed.
“Thank you,” Nora cried, hugging each of her friends. “This is incredible. I just hope I ordered enough books because this display is going to draw big crowds.”
Later, Nora would think back on that moment. She’d remember standing on the sidewalk, overwhelmed by feelings of affection and gratitude for her amazing friends. She’d remember how refreshing the night air had felt on her skin and how the sky had looked like a sea of stars. At that moment, she’d been truly happy. All had been right with her world.
Until everything went wrong.
* * *
The next morning, Nora got up an hour early. After putting on sweatpants and an old T-shirt, she left her tiny house—a refurbished caboose—and scrambled down the steep slope toward the train tracks. The six o’clock freight had already come through, so Nora took her time crossing the tracks. She continued walking to the edge of the woods where blackberry bushes grew in a tangled hedge.
Hooking a basket on her left forearm, she began filling it with ripe berries. The fruit glistened like amethysts in the morning light, and the act of harvesting made Nora feel a deep sense of peace.
When she’d picked enough, Nora went home to wash the berries and herself. Her next stop was the flea market. She moved through the aisles at a brisk pace, searching for shelf enhancers. Normally, she’d examine the wares in every booth, but since she was going to drop by Soothe before work, she had to cut her shopping trip short.
“Bea, I hope you have something for me,” she said, pausing at one of her favorite booths. “Nothing’s caught my eye, and I don’t have much time.”
“I haven’t unpacked everything yet. Still waitin’ for the coffee to kick in.” Beatrice reached for a cardboard box. “But if you want fall pieces, I’ve got what you need.”
Beatrice unwrapped a pair of amber hobnail ruffled vases and raised her brows in question.
Nora nodded in approval. “Those are nice. What else is in that box?”
After a few rounds of good-natured haggling, Nora left the flea market with the vases, vintage chalkware owl bookends, an Art Deco orange-and-cream-colored bowl, a pair of ceramic candleholders shaped like acorns, a Pyrex autumn harvest bowl, and an old copper pumpkin.
Back at Miracle Books, she washed and dried the Pyrex bowl and then filled it with the blackberries she’d picked that morning. With Bren’s lucky dollar in her pocket, she walked up to Soothe’s delivery door and knocked.
Celeste cracked the door and peered out. She looked nervous, if not downright scared. But as soon as she recognized Nora, she smiled and opened the door wide.
“Hello! It’s nice to see you again.”
Nora held out the bowl of berries. “This is for you. To celebrate your grand opening.”
“What a thoughtful gift,” said Celeste. “Would you like to come in? I’d love to show you our space.”
Though Nora had things to do before she opened the bookshop, she couldn’t resist seeing what Soothe was all about. Besides, she wanted to make sure Bren was okay. She hoped to text June on her way back to the shop so that she could put her friend’s mind at ease.
“I’d love to come in,” Nora replied, stepping into a vestibule with stairs ascending to the upstairs apartment and a door leading into Soothe.
Celeste led her through a nondescript stockroom and breakroom, chatting excitedly about the grand opening, until they passed through an archway into the shop. She then fell silent, allowing Nora to take everything in.
Nora felt like she’d entered a bubble of light and peace.
The walls were a creamy white and the floorboards were the color of sun-bleached sand. The high ceilings were covered in white tile, giving the space an open, airy feel. Most of the store was devoted to gift baskets, which were categorized by names like Insomnia No More, Settle That Tummy, Calm the Inflammation, Still an Unquiet Mind, and Postpartum Peace. The gift baskets contained herbal teas, lotions, soaps, candles, oils, and meditation journals. A white bamboo blanket was added to the largest and most expensive of the baskets.
Nora looked around, noticing that the only non-neutral hue in the entire shop was lavender, and this was limited to the ribbons on the gift baskets. The store’s displays, walls, products, and packaging were either white or sandy beige.
Nora was surprised by how the lack of color calmed her. She loved color. Every day, she surrounded herself with a rainbow of book spines. This was her idea of heaven on earth.
And yet, Soothe was another type of oasis. It was light and bright. Soft and quiet. Gentle and serene. Even the air seemed easier to breathe.
Celeste walked over to a small water feature in the corner and turned it on. The sound of a gurgling brook whispered through the store.
“There,” she said with a touch of pride in her voice. “What do you think?”
Nora waved her arm, encompassing the entire store. “I think you picked the perfect name for your shop. It’s beautiful and relaxing. The people who come to Miracle Springs in search of healing will love Soothe.”
Celeste put both hands over her heart. “Thank you. That means a lot. I’ve never run my own business before, and it’s exhilarating and absolutely terrifying to have all our eggs in one basket.”
“Believe me, I get it. But you and your store are a perfect fit for Miracle Springs. Oh, and before I forget, this is for Bren.” Nora took out the dollar bill. “For luck. I keep mine under my cash register drawer, and I thought she might like one for hers.”
Celeste glanced at the small food case on the other side of the shop. It was empty, and when Nora looked at Celeste in concern, she let out a forced laugh and said, “It’s fine. She’ll be here any minute with the muffins. She forgot to set her alarm. Today of all days!”
“I’ll just leave this on the counter for her.”
Nora walked over to the register, which sat on a second glass case filled with jewelry. Necklaces, bracelets, and earrings featuring white hexagonal crystals were set off by a backdrop of lavender silk.
“Some cultures believe that crystals can speed the healing process,” said Celeste when Nora returned to the middle of the room. “Brenna’s the jewel smith. She’s been making jewelry since she was seven. I know I sound like a bragging mom, but that girl was born to create art. She can do it all, from oil portraits to ceramics to glassblowing to quilting. The only thing she wouldn’t try was sculpting. She never wanted to walk in my shadow.”
Though Nora was interested in both Celeste and Bren, she needed to say what she’d come to say and hurry back to the bookshop.
“This might seem like it’s coming out of left field, but is Bren feeling okay?”
In an instant, Celeste’s guileless expression turned guarded. “She’s just tired. We both a
re. Why?”
“On Friday night, my friend and I saw her drop to her knees on the sidewalk across the street from my shop. We ran over to see if she needed help. Her stomach was obviously bothering her, and then, she threw up. Pretty violently too. We asked if we should call you. She said no and told us to leave her alone. I just thought you should know.”
Celeste fidgeted with the silver band on her left thumb. Again, her eyes strayed to the empty food case and she muttered, “I can’t handle any more secrets.”
A bang sounded from the stockroom, and Celeste jumped. “That must be Bren. Thank you for telling me. And for bringing us gifts. It’s nice to make a new friend. Especially with another healer.”
Now, it was Nora’s turn to be surprised.
“I heard about your bibliotherapy from the clerk at the hardware store. Maybe, when I come over for that coffee, you can tell me how it works.”
After letting Nora out the front entrance, Celeste closed the door and sagged against it. Nora could see her face through the glass. It held no trace of excitement. Only worry.
Nora hurried back to Miracle Books where she was immediately greeted by the welcome gurgling of the coffee machine. The lights were on, soft jazz drifted from the speakers, and the new shelf enhancers had been lined up in the ticket agent’s office, waiting to be priced.
“Samwise Gamgee has nothing on you, Sheldon Vega,” Nora called into the stacks. “You’re a lifesaver.”
When Sheldon didn’t reply, she headed to the front of the shop to see what he was doing. She saw a small crowd on the sidewalk outside the shop, but no Sheldon. And then, she suddenly knew where he’d gone.
“Oh, crap. The book pockets!”
Minutes later, she heard a pounding on the back door. She raced to take the bakery box from Sheldon.
“I’m so sorry. Visiting Soothe threw me off my game. But I called you Sam Gamgee when I first got here. Does that earn me any brownie points?”
“You should have called me Aragorn, so . . . no.”