At the sound of the crash, Norah jolted upright, hands clenching on the steering wheel as a scream clogged in her throat. But her car was still idling at the light, all in one piece. In park.
When had she done that?
Another tap came on the window. A tap. Not the crash in her dream. “Are you all right?”
Norah turned toward the muffled voice, her brain refusing to engage. A woman hunched outside the passenger side window, concern written across her face.
A car honked behind her, and Norah realized the light was finally green. Before she could shift back into drive, the big truck whipped around her to make the left on to Spring Street, proving that Chicago didn’t have the market cornered on impatient drivers.
The woman still stood at the window. Norah rolled it down. “I’m…” What? Not fine. She’d just fallen asleep at the wheel at a stoplight. Thank God this was Wishful instead of somewhere with more traffic. “I must’ve dozed off.”
The woman flashed a pair of dimples. “Well, it is a notoriously long light. Still, why don’t you pull over up here and park? Come in and have some coffee.” She gestured at the sign for Sweet Magnolias Bakery.
Getting off the road seemed like an excellent plan. “Yeah, okay.”
Careful to actually watch for other vehicles, Norah made the turn and parked along the curb. The woman stood holding the door of the bakery open. She wore a red apron printed with a cartoon cat and the slogan Sass. I haz it. scrawled beneath.
“Thank you.” Norah stepped inside. Scents of sweets and spice and chocolate wrapped around her like the welcoming arms of a favorite grandmother and her mouth immediately began to water.
“Have a seat.” The woman gestured to the cluster of brightly painted, mismatched tables and chairs. “I saw you nod off in your car and thought I’d better check on you before you rolled into oncoming traffic.”
“Thanks for that. The light was taking forever, and I must’ve slipped the car into park while I was waiting.”
“Thank God for small mercies.” She moved behind the stretch of glass cases to pour two cups of coffee. “The sensor’s been broken since they put in the light. You were only out for a couple of minutes.”
“Long enough to prove I need to get off the road.” Norah accepted a steaming mug. “Thank you.”
The proprietress slid into the chair across the table. “Long drive?”
“Set out from Chicago at five this morning after…not a lot of sleep.” She’d decided it was time to get the hell out of town and finally make that visit to Miranda. Coming to Wishful was the only action she’d taken since her confrontation with Pierce and Philip that she hadn’t questioned a thousand times over. Including the fact that when she left this morning, she’d mass blocked every area code in Chicago from her phone. For the next week, she was completely checking out.
“Oh you poor thing.” The woman laid her hand over Norah’s in a quick gesture of comfort. “Do you have much further to go?”
“Not too far.” Thank God.
“Where are you headed?”
“Here.”
The baker angled her head, clearly thinking. “Chicago…you’re Miranda’s friend, Norah.”
Norah was too tired and too amused at how things worked in small towns to be surprised. “Guilty.”
“I’m Carolanne Wheeler. Nice to meet you.”
Norah hummed an acknowledgment and sipped her drink. “You’re a lifesaver with this coffee.” She drank more and tried to get her sluggish brain in gear. “It’s been a few years since I’ve been down to visit. Not since Miranda finished residency and came home to open her practice, but I don’t remember you being here then.”
“I wasn’t. Only been open a couple of years.”
“Are you from Wishful?”
Carolanne shook her head. “Atlanta originally. I had something of a personal crisis epiphany a few years ago and decided I needed a radical change. So I up and quit my job and moved here to open this place. With a stopover for pastry school.”
Short of leaving the country, Norah couldn’t imagine a more radical change. “And was that what you needed?”
“Best decision I ever made.” She grinned. “It’s still a bit touch-and-go on the financial side, but that’s the nature of opening a business anywhere. I love Wishful.”
“I always have, too. I started coming here with Miranda when we were roommates back in college. It’s a really special town.”
“You know, Miranda was just in yesterday—she has a cupcake habit—and didn’t say anything about you coming.”
“She doesn’t know. It was a spur of the moment trip. I needed some girl time, so I thought I’d surprise her. Speaking of which, I figure I could soften the imposition with sugar.”
“I’ve got just the thing.” Carolanne rose and circled around to pull a tray from the display case. “These are a devil’s food cake with a peanut butter ganache and a peanut butter cup hidden in the center. I call them billionaires. Sweet and rich, with just a hint of salty. Perfectly sinful and exactly what a good man should be.”
Norah decided she officially loved Carolanne. “I’ll take one with a broody gaze and washboard abs.”
Carolanne’s laughter pealed and something in Norah loosened for the first time in days.
“Oh, you meant the cupcakes.”
“Try one.”
Norah bit in and groaned as pure decadence exploded in her mouth. “I’ll take half a dozen.”
As Carolanne rang up the sale, Norah finished her coffee and cupcake. “Thanks for the caffeine and chat. I think I’m awake enough to make it without passing out at the wheel again.
She handed over the box with a smile. “Welcome to Wishful, Norah. I hope you’ll stay a while.”
Fatigue still dragged at Norah as she stepped outside and back to her car. She drove past the large green that stretched the entire length of Main Street, scanning the shop windows from afar. The buildings themselves looked worn and aged. Comfortable with themselves. Much of the signage was faded, and definitely many of the awnings could use replacing. A few businesses had planters in front of their display windows. Empty this time of year. Everything would perk up, come spring. Local business owners would distract from the ancient brick and peeling paint with fresh plantings and clean, sparkling windows to display their wares. But for now, downtown looked frayed at the edges, as worn down and tired as Norah felt. But everything was still here. Not until the relief bled through her did she realize she’d expected Wishful to be as decimated as Morton.
The last few days had brought so much change. She needed something familiar. She needed Miranda, needed the rest of the crazy Campbell clan.
Norah didn’t know what she’d tell them. She wasn’t ready to admit she’d been fired. Burkes were raised not to make mistakes and ignorance didn’t mitigate the enormity of the one she’d made.
Would it be better not to have found out? To go on with her high powered-life none the wiser?
No.
She recalled the look of derision on Philip’s face, the disgust on Pierce’s. No matter what happened from here on out, she was better off without them, better off knowing what kind of men they really were.
The receptionist was on the phone when Norah stepped into Miranda’s clinic. The waiting room, like the parking lot outside, was almost empty. An older gentleman in a shearling coat sat reading a magazine. He looked up as she shut the door and gave her a wrinkled smile. Norah nodded and smiled back. He didn’t appear to be sick, or agitated by the wait, so she assumed he was waiting on a patient in the back. Good. Maybe that meant Miranda was nearly through for the day.
A door beside the reception desk opened and a nurse in turquoise scrubs walked out. “I’m so sorry. We’re just about to close, so this really isn’t a good time for you to meet with Doctor—” The nurse cut herself off, eyes widening in surprise. “Norah! Oh my gosh, I thought you were a drug rep.”
Norah grinned. “Hey Piper. Long time no see.”
“Well I’ll say. Damn, girl, how long’s it been? Six years?”
“Seven.” Norah shifted the cupcake box to give the other woman a one-armed hug. “Not since before you finished nursing school. You look fabulous.”
Piper waved a hand. “I look like I’ve been dealing with a mad rush of flu patients. Don’t worry. We’ve all been practically bathing in disinfectant. Miranda didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“She didn’t know. I had an…unexpected opportunity to get away come up, and I took it.”
“Well hallelujah for that. Miranda’s going to be beside herself. Hang on a sec.” Piper turned to the man in the corner and raised her voice to that register everyone used with the hard of hearing. “Mr. Tolleson, your wife is just about finished. We had to take some blood, so you be sure and take her to get something to eat straight after this. I hear it’s meatloaf day at Dinner Belles. I know how Winnie likes her meatloaf.”
Mr. Tolleson gave her a thumbs up.
Piper turned back to Norah and dropped her voice. “She has to come in for regular blood work. We help her make sure she gets a dinner date out of it.”
Norah grinned. “I expect you could use some sustenance after such a long day.” She lifted the cupcake box and opened the top.
“You are a saint. No, a goddess. Statues shall be erected in your honor.” Piper grabbed a cupcake and wasted no time in taking a bite. Her head lolled back and she moaned theatrically.
The receptionist, a fortyish woman with a spray of freckles and vivid green eyes behind horn-rimmed glasses, hung up the phone with a clatter. “I swear, if I have to talk to that woman one more time this week…” She let the threat trail off.
Norah offered the box. “Cupcake?”
The woman lifted her fingers in the sign of the cross. “Get thee away, Satan!”
Piper took another bite of cupcake. “Shelby’s on the Atkins diet.”
“And after the week we’ve had already, my will power is at an all-time low. But thanks for the offer, sweetie.”
“You should totally have waited to start until after New Year’s. Who starts a diet the day after Christmas?” The groan of pleasure as Piper finished off the cupcake punctuated the lunacy of such a thing.
“The woman who ate half a chocolate chess pie out of stress due to the presence of her in-laws, that’s who.” Shelby shuddered. “How my husband came from those two, I will never know.”
The door to the exam rooms opened and Miranda edged out, her arm around an older lady. “Now you be sure to run right on over to the pharmacy and pick this up. I called it in already, so Riley ought to have it ready by the time you get there. You start it tonight at bedtime. And let me know if you have any side effects.”
As the woman shuffled toward her waiting husband, Miranda shoved a hand through her thick blonde hair and turned, clearly checking for more patients. “Please tell me that’s the—” Her eyes widened. “Norah!”
“Surprise.” Norah grinned.
Miranda’s white coat flared like a cape as she leapt across the room and wrapped Norah in a fierce hug. Norah held tight, burying her face against her friend’s shoulder and breathing in the familiar scents of alcohol, starch, and new plastic. Something hot and tight lodged in her throat, and she had to fight to keep the smile in place. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“It’s so good to see you!”
“Sorry for just dropping in like this.” Norah pulled back. “I hope your guest room is available.”
“For you? Always. What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t get away again until summer.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to let it all spill out. The fate of Morton. The firing. All the ugliness that had made her pack up and run. But shame and embarrassment locked her throat.
Something must’ve shown on her face because Miranda frowned and took her by the shoulders again. “Norah? What’s wrong? Is it your parents?”
Norah shook her head. “I got dumped.” By my life.
The immediate outpouring of sympathy and suggestions about what her ex could do with his manhood had her throat clogging yet again, even as Piper shoved a cupcake into her hand.
“Give us a chance to change clothes, and we’ll go out tonight and drink to the shriveling of his dick. Liam Montgomery’s welcome home party’s going on over at Speakeasy right now anyway.”
Norah let out a bark of laughter. “Oh God, as much fun as that sounds, I’m absolutely wiped. I’ve been up since four and drove straight through.”
“Then we’ll stay in and have Chinese and Ben and Jerry’s before you crash.”
“And tomorrow night you can flirt with the best male specimens Wishful has to offer,” Piper added.
“Beg pardon?”
“I’m throwing a big New Year’s Eve bash. Everybody who’s anybody in our age bracket will be there.”
“It’ll be good for you.” Piper looped an arm through hers. “An excuse to dress up, look fabulous, and party with people who have way better taste and sense than your ex. Throw off all this sad stuff.”
Norah held back a grimace. Much as she enjoyed people, that kind of socializing was the last thing she was in the mood for. It was so incompatible with licking one’s wounds. But she was the one who’d popped in unannounced. She couldn’t expect everyone to change their plans to suit her. She mustered a sassy smile. “Well, I did pack this amazing dress.”
~*~
“…and we’ll be taking applications for the future mother of my grandbabies right over here.”
Cam laughed along with everyone else as big bad Staff Sergeant Liam Montgomery blushed all the way to the tips of his ears. “Mom!”
Molly pulled Liam down for a noisy kiss. “Kidding! Mostly. Please, everybody, enjoy the party!”
She and Liam stepped down from the tiny stage that usually hosted local musicians and karaoke. A big Welcome Home! banner stretched above their heads. Tables had been set up along one exposed brick wall, and they were lined with an assortment of Speakeasy’s signature pizzas. Cam noticed Liam skirted these, giving a wide berth to everyone of the female persuasion.
The scents of spicy tomatoes, pepperoni, and yeasty crust set Cam’s stomach to rumbling, reminding him he hadn’t actually gotten around to lunch today, while he was pushing through those year-end reports at the nursery. But social duties had to be satisfied before his appetite. He cornered Liam as the other man lifted a beer from a passing tray.
“Welcome home, Sergeant.” Cam offered a hand.
“Good to be back.” Liam shot a glance back at his mother. “I think.”
“You had to know settling back here was gonna open you wide up for that. You’re the oldest.”
“Jesus. Is your Mama giving you grief about settling down?”
His family went well out of their way to avoid the topic of him and marriage, a state of affairs Cam was generally completely okay with. “Nope. That honor goes to Mitch.”
“Then I expect he’ll be happy to commiserate, now that I’m back.”
“Gotta admit, I’m surprised. I always figured you for a lifer.”
Liam’s expression darkened for a fleeting instant and was gone. “Well, I did too, but things change.”
“I was really sorry about your dad.” A little over a year before, Liam’s father, John, had dropped dead of an aneurysm while under the hood of his beloved 1969 Mustang.
“With Wynne off to New Orleans and both Jack and Cruz still in for a while, when this contract was up it just made the most sense to step off the train. Somebody needs to be home to look after Mom.”
Cam smiled into his beer. “Don’t let her hear you say that.” The pint-sized Molly Montgomery had kept three sons, a daughter, and a husband in line, all while working a full-time job and regularly volunteering on various committees around town. She was a force to be reckoned with. But Cam understood the sentiment. After his mother’s cancer diagnosis, he’d dropped out of grad school and come home to take care of her.
When Liam didn’t respond, Cam followed his gaze across the room to a buxom brunette currently embracing Liam’s sister, Wynne.
“Who is that?”
“Who? Riley?”
“That’s Riley Gower?” Liam’s eyes all but bugged out of his skull as she turned where he could see her face.
Cam elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “Pick your jaw up off the floor, man, before your mama sees you. Yeah, that’s Riley Gower. I don’t guess you’ve had occasion to see her since she grew up.”
“She’s my baby sister’s best friend. I haven’t seen her since I enlisted. She was a freshman in high school, I guess.”
Which explained the shock. Since then, Riley had gone from awkward and a little bit heavy to 1940s bombshell.
“She bought out the pharmacy when your mom decided to semi-retire earlier this year,” said Cam, though he was pretty sure, given the look on the other man’s face, that wasn’t the information he was looking for. “She’s single.”
Liam shook himself and turned his focus back to Cam. “What?”
“Riley. She’s not seeing anybody.”
“Wouldn’t matter if she was. I was just…surprised, is all.”
Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, buddy. But Cam gave the man a break and changed the subject. “So, what’s the plan now that you’re back?”
“I’m not sure what to do with myself just yet. It’ll take time to get used to being without my unit, without orders, but, I have to say, I’m looking forward to being my own man.”
“I’ll certainly keep my ears open. If I hear of anybody looking to hire, I’ll let you know.”
“Appreciate it.”
“Oh, you helping anybody find a job. That’s rich, Crawford.”
Cam turned toward the voice dripping with sarcasm and barely repressed venom.
Roy McKennon stepped up, a long-neck bottle hanging loose between two fingers. “The Councilman here has made it a priority to block any and all incoming industry to town. So don’t be thinkin’ he’s got your best interests at heart.”
Sometimes Cam really hated civil service. “Now Roy, that’s not entirely accurate. There were reasons for—”
“Reasons?” Roy pivoted to face him. The slur in his voice made it evident he’d had more than a couple of beers. “What reasons do you have for stopping Ford from building that manufacturing plant here? What reasons do you have for denying hard-working people the possibility of a job?” Roy’s voice was rising, and Cam was aware of others starting to look their way.
Cam knew he needed to diffuse the situation. “That’s not what I was doing.”
“I got three kids and a wife to support, boy. Since the plant closed, we’ve got no insurance. Had to go on goddamned assistance like a bunch of reprobates. April made me let her sign up for WIC and Medicaid just so the kids are covered. My youngest has chronic asthma.” Roy punctuated each point with a jab to Cam’s sternum.
Though his own temper stirred, Cam kept his voice level. “It’s a tough place to be in, but there’s no shame in asking for help when you need it.”
That was absolutely the wrong thing to say. Roy’s face reddened. “You’ve got no right! No goddamned right to do anything to stop job opportunities from coming to this town.” He lunged for Cam, the bottle crashing to the floor as he swung one meaty fist.
Liam snagged Roy’s arm, twisting it behind his back until the other man howled. “You need to settle on down now, Mr. McKennon. This isn’t the place.”
Speakeasy fell silent, all eyes turned on them.
Roy subsided in Liam’s grip, his burst of liquid courage evidently spent. April McKennon, a worn-looking woman in her early forties, crossed the room, her face set in lines of abject mortification.
“We’re going home.” Her tone brooked no argument. “I’m very sorry for this. Liam, we welcome you back to Wishful and thank you for your service to our country.”
“Yes ma’am.” He released her husband. “Thank you.”
“Get to the car, Roy.”
Roy looked as if he might argue, but his wife just pointed with the well-honed authority of a mother of three, and he headed for the door.
April turned back toward Cam. “I’m sorry. Roy’s a proud man, and this…financial downturn has been really hard on him. He needs somebody to blame, and he’s settled on you.”
“I understand.” Cam thought of the conversation with his mother about how they might have to do things they didn’t necessarily like in order to save Wishful. “I swear to you, Mrs. McKennon, I’m trying my hardest to do what’s best for this town.”
“I’m sure you think you are.” Without another word, she turned and followed her husband to the door, her head held high, her shoulders stiff.
Cam ached for her, knowing that the embarrassment over the scene her husband caused upset her as much as his unemployment.
Conversation gradually rose again in the wake of their departure. Cam rubbed a hand on the back of his neck as he turned back to Liam. “Well. Sorry ’bout that. I’m not exactly the most popular around here these days.”
“Did you really block a Ford plant?”
Tucker McGee stepped up and handed Cam a beer. “Reckon you could use this. Cam was not, in fact, a one man army against Ford. He simply brought up all the relevant environmental impacts such a plant would have on the area, and the bulk of the City Council backed him up and decided it wasn’t the right answer. Plus, I heard they got more favorable terms from some other state offering tax incentives and such that we couldn’t.”
“Not that the general public seems to be aware of that. I was the most vocal opponent, so I’m the scapegoat for why we didn’t get it. Times are really tough for a lot of folks.” Aware that more people had queued up to talk to Liam, Cam gave in to his own keen desire to escape. “Anyway, I meant what I said. If I can do anything to help you find something, I will.”
“Thanks again.”
Tucker followed Cam over to the buffet. “It’s not your fault, you know.”
“I know that.” But it was hard not to feel some responsibility as April’s parting words echoed through his head. I’m sure you think you are. Was he wrong? His duty was to the townspeople, to his constituents, not just to further his own agenda of preserving the town exactly as he wanted it. He was starting to lose hope that there was any way to satisfy them and assuage his conscience.
~*~
Clad in yoga pants and an ancient Ole Miss sweatshirt that was a dozen washings away from losing its collar, Norah sat curled on one end of Miranda’s sofa, a pint of General Tso’s chicken in her hands as the credits began to roll on Serendipity. They’d talked most of the way through the movie, catching up on things that hadn’t come up in their twice weekly phone conversations. More relaxed than she’d been in ages, Norah let her head fall back to the cushions. “Chinese food and chick flicks. You do know how to take care of me.”
“I am a medical professional.” Miranda polished off the last of her sweet and sour chicken.
“I miss this. I miss you. Chicago hasn’t been the same since you moved home.”
“Feeling a bit like the last southerner standing?”
“Like a zoo exhibit at times.” Norah grimaced.
“I know you love your job, and you’ve invested a lot in Helios, but there’s nothing that says you can’t move back below the Mason Dixon line, you know. Especially since you’re not tied to Pierce anymore.”
Even less reason than you know. Now was the time to tell her the full truth, come clean about being fired. But she just…couldn’t. Not yet. Because Miranda, God love her, was a steamroller, and she’d push as much as Norah’s parents, albeit out of love rather than her own agenda. Norah just couldn’t deal with that yet. Not until she’d reconciled it in her own mind, figured out what she was going to do next. The admission of failure would be easier to face with a plan. Right?
Not that she had any prior experience with failure. Burkes didn’t fail. Period.
“Did that asshat break your heart, honey?”
Norah considered the question rather than offering the flip response that sprang to her lips. Had Pierce broken her heart? In the few days since she’d confronted him, she’d felt no grief over the loss of their relationship, only for the damage to her career.
“Less my heart and more my pride.”
“Sometimes that hurts worse. And I’m going to make a confession here. I’m glad y’all broke up. He always felt like a very pretty accessory to that whole high-powered lifestyle rather real relationship material.”
Norah’s mouth dropped open.
“I’m sorry, I know you must’ve seen something in him or you wouldn’t have dated him in the first place but…you’re worth so much more than that.”
The laugh bubbled up, expanding in her chest until it burst out in a hoot. “Oh my God, Pierce would just die. A pretty accessory.” Norah bent over in helpless giggles. “God, he really was.” He was, she was shamed to realize, merely an extension of her career. And wasn’t that a sad testament to the state of her life? The thought sobered her up. “But seriously, I’ll take this as the sign it is.”
“Of what?”
“That I’m not made for the kind of deep, long-term relationships that lead to marriage and family.”
“That’s horse shit.”
The invective made Norah want to hug her all over again. God it was good to be back in the South.
“Is it? I’m ambitious and talented. The child of two equally ambitious, talented people who tried to make it work and failed spectacularly. Burkes excel professionally and absolutely tank in relationships.”
“That doesn’t mean you’ll fail. Just means you haven’t found the right guy.”
“I can’t imagine the right guy. The guy who can deal with my ambition and not expect me to put it away to do the whole wife and baby thing. I’d go crazy inside a year.”
“I’m sorry, did it turn back to 1954 and I missed it? Live in the now, girl. Anyway, I think you’re selling yourself short.”
Norah jerked a shoulder. “And what about you? You’ve been doing the perpetually single dance since med school. If you made it past the third date, that was a long-term relationship.”
“I’m careful,” Miranda corrected. “Especially since I came home. Wishful is a pretty damned tiny dating pool, and it’s not getting any bigger. Not usually anyway. I fully expect Liam to have half a dozen proposals before summer.”
There was something in her friend’s too off-hand manner. “That annoys you.”
“What?”
“That all these women are going to be interested in this Liam guy. Who is he?”
Miranda waved a dismissive hand. “The Campbells and the Montgomerys have always been kind of intertwined. There are four of them and five of us in similar age ranges. Liam’s the oldest. A good friend of Mitch’s. He went straight into the Marines from high school. He just finished his third term and decided to move home to be closer to his mom. She’s widowed.”
“You like the hot ex-soldier,” Norah proclaimed, happy to shift the conversation away from the dismal state of her love life.
“How do you know he’s hot?”
“Goes without saying. He risked his life for our country.”
“He was hot before that.”
“I knew it! You like him!”
“I did like him. I had a ludicrous crush on him in high school, of the variety you can only have for your older brother’s best friend. Of course, he never actually saw me as anything other than Randa Panda because my rat bastard of a brother told him I still had the bear I carried around as a toddler.”
Norah winced in sympathy. “Have you seen him since high school?”
“Once at a Christmas party a few years back, when he was home on furlough. Where I was still Randa Panda. I freaking hate that nickname.”
“So I gather you didn’t have plans to show up at his welcome home party tonight in some knockout dress to make him realize you grew up?”
“Of course not.” Miranda dimpled. “I invited him to my party tomorrow night, where I’ll be wearing some knockout dress to make him realize I grew up. Not that I expect it to work, but it seems worth the effort to set the record straight.”
“Even though you totally still have Pammy the Panda?”
“In the name of our decade of friends