by Ellery Adams
This, at least, got Abilene to look at her.
“We’re not saints.” Nora went on. “We’re not angels. We’re just people. We screw up. The best we can do afterward is ask for forgiveness, learn from what happened, and try to move on.”
Abilene released a long, slow exhalation. “I hit a nurse. I did it so I could get out of the hospital. I hit her harder than I should have. With a metal tray.” She put her palm down on the lease agreement. “What I did was wrong. But I can’t apologize. I can’t make it right. If I do, he’ll find me. He’ll find me and take me home.”
She pushed back her chair and jumped up so abruptly that she knocked over her empty water glass. She scooped up the glass and carried it to the sink. She stood there, motionless, her body tensing, as if expecting a blow.
“I can’t go back there. I should leave tomorrow.” Abilene directed her voice downward into the sink. She spoke quickly. Her words sounded like running water.
Nora got to her feet and said, “No.”
Shocked, Abilene turned to face her. Nora beckoned her outside. Leaning over the deck railing, she pointed down the steep slope toward the railroad tracks.
“Every day, a train pulls in to the Miracle Springs station. Every day, a new crowd of hopefuls spills onto the platform. The people of this crowd hope and pray that the water, the yoga, the massages, the therapy, the kale smoothies, or the fresh mountain air will heal them. It may be the beauty of this place that restores the soul. It may be its tranquility. I don’t know. But many of those people leave Miracle Springs feeling restored. Despite the peace strangers have found here, a local woman drowned in a pond on her property. A woman who’d lived here for many years. The theory is that she committed suicide—that she took a bunch of painkillers and left a note.”
Abilene blanched, but Nora ignored her reaction and went on.
“Do you want to end up floating in a backyard pond? Because even in this haven, a woman grew so lonely that she didn’t want to live anymore. What do you think will happen to you if you strike out on your own?” Nora asked. “Yes, you could run tomorrow. Or you could stay here with a group of women who’ll stand by you.”
Hugging herself, Abilene watched the haphazard flight of a lightning bug until it disappeared behind a copse of trees.
“What would I have to do?” she whispered. “To be able to stay?”
“You’ll have to be brave,” said Nora. “Brave enough to share your story.”
“Share my secrets, you mean.”
Nora gazed up at the stars. “Your story. Your secrets. Aren’t they one and the same?”
Chapter 5
There are perhaps no days of our childhood we lived so fully as those we spent with a favorite book.
—Marcel Proust
Abilene typically left for the bakery before Nora was even out of bed.
When Nora woke the next morning, she wasn’t sure if Abilene had left for work. Or just left.
When she showed up at Miracle Books with a fresh batch of book pockets and an expression of resolve, Nora was surprised by how happy she was to see her.
That evening, while Nora set the table for supper, Abilene announced that she’d be moving into the apartment over Virtual Genie the following day.
Nora was stunned. “What about the lease application? And is there a security deposit?”
“I don’t need to fill out any paperwork, and Mr. Kingsley didn’t asked for a deposit. He and I came to an understanding,” Abilene said. She was heating baked beans in a saucepan and refused to meet Nora’s gaze.
Nora put her hands on her hips and stared at Abilene. “An understanding? That sounds like a line from a Victorian novel—one of those novels featuring a penniless girl who offers her body in exchange for a favor from the aristocratic gentleman.”
Abilene’s cheeks flushed and she backed away from the stove. She turned a pair of angry, glittering eyes on Nora. “It’s not like that at all! I’m not like that!”
She ran out of the tiny house and into the August evening.
Two minutes later, the oven timer beeped and Nora opened the door to find two perfectly cooked pork chops. She left the hot tray on the cooktop and went outside to call Abilene.
The moment she stepped onto the deck, she sensed an emptiness. There were night noises. The insects sawed and small animals rustled in the undergrowth in the woods bordering the train tracks. But there was a lack of human presence.
Abilene was gone.
Nora called her name anyway. Twice. When no one responded, she went back inside and waited at the table.
After an hour passed, she wrapped up the pork chops and beans, put them in the fridge, and ate a bowl of cereal for supper. She sat on the sofa in her cozy little living room and tried to read. But the words wouldn’t stick. They slipped out of Nora’s head and by the time she gave up on the book, night had fallen around Caboose Cottage.
Downtown Miracle Springs would be hopping, Nora knew. The streetlamps would be aglow, eateries would be serving patrons, and music would fill side streets and alleyways. She could almost hear the instrumental melodies from the vegan restaurant, the bluegrass from Pink Lady Grill, and the classic rock from the bar on the edge of town.
Abilene wouldn’t go to any of these places, so Nora waited up for her. She turned on a television show that failed to capture her attention and drifted off in the middle of it. When she woke hours later, an infomercial for a skincare line was playing.
Nora looked at her watch. It was after midnight.
Grabbing her phone and a flashlight, she left her house and started walking.
She had no destination in mind, but hoped inspiration would strike as she headed into town. Without thinking about it, she stopped to look at the window of Miracle Books when something furry rubbed against her calf, making her jump in surprise.
The furry thing was a cat. Offended by her cry, it issued an angry meow before bounding down the sidewalk to rejoin what could only be described as a herd of cats. In the center of the herd, gently scooting cats out of her way with the toe of her sneaker, was June.
June’s face was concealed by a black hoodie and baseball hat. Her café au lait skin, which looked more like espresso in the darkness, seemed to meld with the night shadows. Despite this, Nora knew the hooded figure was June. She’d heard about the nocturnal cat parade phenomenon. Estella had told her how June had become somewhat of a legend in Miracle Springs. June and her feline followers. Nora hadn’t truly believed Estella’s story until now.
“Nora?” June called out. “Is that you?”
“Yes,” Nora replied as quietly as she could. She watched the horde of approaching felines and was slightly discomfited by all the glowing yellow eyes. They were like fairy lights—the kind that lured a person into a bog and left them there to die.
The two friends met in the middle of the street and June took off her hat. “I didn’t think you were a member of the Miracle Springs Insomniacs Club.”
“I haven’t slept through the night since I was in my twenties, but that’s not why I’m here with you and your cats.”
June shooed away a large striped tomcat. “I never signed up for this pied-piper crap. I’ve done everything I can to avoid smelling like catnip potpourri, but it doesn’t matter. These damn cats haven’t gotten a crumb of food from me, but they act like it’s only a matter of time before I turn into the lady who lived in the house before me. I keep telling them that I refuse to feed them roast chickens every Sunday, but they don’t listen.”
Six or seven cats sat at June’s feet and gazed up at her with looks of unadulterated adoration. The rest of the felines, too restless to stop moving, began to disperse. They disappeared under bushes and behind trashcans as if they’d never been there.
June told the rest to beat it, but they just sat there and purred. “Why are you out here?” she asked Nora.
“I’m looking for Abilene.”
Nora explained what had happened that evening.
Nora had her doubts. “What if she’s not at Hester’s?”
“Then she and her secret are moving on and there isn’t a damned thing we can do about it.” June’s tone was grim. “I hope she didn’t make that choice, because you and I both know that her secret will weigh her down. It’ll sink her. And without people like us to pull her out of the water, that girl is going to drown.”
* * *
When Hester finally responded to Nora’s repeated thumping on the bakery’s back door the next morning, the first thing she did was assure her that Abilene was all right.
“She’s not working for me today. She borrowed some supplies and went off to clean her apartment. She won’t be back today.” A timer beeped from somewhere in the kitchen and Hester beckoned Nora to follow her inside the Gingerbread House.
Nora watched Hester remove a pair of oversized muffin trays from the oven. The scent of warm blueberries and cinnamon crumble wafted into the air.
“How do you know she won’t be back?”
“She said she’ll be working for Mr. Kingsley every day as part of their lease agreement. After she cleans the apartment and moves in, which should take two minutes considering she has one garbage bag’s worth of possessions, she’ll start work at Virtual Genie.” Hester glanced at the muffin tray. “I’m glad she found a place, but I hope she comes back here tomorrow. I like having her around.”
Hester dropped one of the hot blueberry muffins into a bag and handed it to Nora. She told her to come back in an hour to collect the day’s book pockets and then turned to slide another batch of muffins into the oven.
Instead of riding home, Nora pedaled to Water Street.
Jedediah Craig’s Chevy Blazer was parked in front of a dove-gray cottage. The front windows were cracked and Nora could hear music playing from inside the house. She hesitated on the sidewalk, wondering how Jed would react to her dropping by.
Jed had never invited her to his place. In fact, he’d made it clear that his home was in no shape to receive visitors, as his rooms were still crowded with unpacked boxes. He’d recently moved to Miracle Springs from somewhere on the coast and claimed that he worked too much to bother organizing his living space.
What am I doing here? Suddenly deciding that this was a mistake, Nora began to turn around.
Jed’s front door opened and he stepped onto the porch, coffee cup in hand, and looked right at her. He smiled warmly, leaned against his porch post, and called, “Are you stalking me?”
“I was just riding by, getting my daily dose of vitamin D, when I got this powerful feeling that someone in the vicinity had just finished brewing coffee. Was that you?” Nora gestured down the sidewalk. “Or should I keep going?”
“It depends what you have inside that white bag,” Jed said. “Is that from the Gingerbread House?”
Nora picked up the bag and gave it a little shake. “In these parts, we like to barter. I have a fresh-from-the-oven blueberry streusel muffin to offer. What do you have?”
“Coffee. And anything else your heart desires,” Jed said with a playful smile.
Nora parked her bike alongside Jed’s truck. “If people see my bike here, they’re going to talk.”
Jed pretended to be dismayed. “Mabel Pickett is sure to notice. I believe she has me lined up as husband number four.”
Nora laughed. Mrs. Pickett was in her eighties and, according to her book-buying history, was more interested in crocheting, historical fiction, and investing in the stock market than acquiring another husband.
“Tell me when you need to leave for work. I don’t want to make you late,” she said as she entered Jed’s home.
Jed led her straight to the kitchen and pulled out a chair at a table overlooking the backyard. Nora surveyed the unadorned room while Jed poured coffee.
“My mugs aren’t as interesting as yours,” he said, joining Nora at the table.
“For every mug that ended up on the pegboard in Miracle Books, I rejected hundreds of others.” Nora picked up the plain white mug Jed had given her. It felt too light in her hand. “A local potter sells his wares at the flea market. You should check him out. I bet you’d like his style.”
Jed looked aggrieved. “I’m sure I would, but my budget is pretty tight these days.”
Detecting she’d hit on a sensitive subject, Nora asked after Jed’s dog. His Rhodesian ridgeback was still at the coast, living with his mother, and Nora knew that the dog suffered from anxiety.
“He’s doing better since Mom made changes to his diet. I miss that big, slobbery bugger. Henry, that is. My mom doesn’t slobber.” Jed’s expression turned wistful. “Me and Henry Higgins have been through so much together.”
Strike two, Nora thought. Her conversational skills were totally lacking this morning.
Jed filled in the silence with a question of his own. “How’s Abilene’s hand?”
“It seems to be healing okay. You’ll have to track her down at the bakery or at her new apartment above Virtual Genie when it’s time to remove the sutures. She isn’t staying with me anymore.”
Jed cocked his head. “Is that a good thing? Her moving out?”
“You’ve been to Caboose Cottage. I don’t have room for extra things, let alone an extra person.” Nora sipped her coffee before adding, “So, yes, it’s a good thing.”
They chatted for a few more minutes, but the sidewalk flirtation had fizzled from the moment Nora had entered the house, so she told Jed that she needed to pick up her book pockets and get to the shop. He didn’t entreat her to stay, and she was surprised by the strength of her disappointment.
As she made her way to the front door, Nora shot a quick glance into the living room. There were no stacks of boxes. There was no mess. There wasn’t a stick of furniture to be seen. The entire space was empty.
Nora couldn’t understand why Jed had lied to her, but she suspected it had something to do with the tight budget he’d mentioned. She knew that he regularly sent money home to his mother and felt that he owed his mother a great deal.
Judging by his living room and his ill-equipped kitchen, Jed was sending everything he could spare to his mom. Maybe even more than he could spare.
As Nora rode away from Jed’s house, she thought of how he’d sat vigil by her hospital bed for countless hours. It hadn’t been that long since the sensitive and sexy paramedic had made it clear that he had feelings for her.
Does he regret telling me how much he cares for me? Nora wondered. And what do I feel? I haven’t had the headspace to think about Jed since I found Abilene hiding in my bookstore.
Stopping for a red light, Nora caught sight of her reflection in the window of a parked car. She saw a woman with full lips and a graceful jawline. Her hair was unbound and fell from under her baseball cap in a shiny, brown curtain. The cap’s brim cast a shadow over the burn scar on her right cheek, and her pale blue cotton blouse hid the scars on her arm. For just a second, Nora saw her old self. The pre-burned self.
The abrupt blast of a car horn made her jump. She whipped her head around, fully prepared to glower at the impatient driver.
“I didn’t mean to scare you!” shouted one of Nora’s customers from behind the wheel of her vintage Mustang convertible. “I just wanted to tell you I’ll be seeing you at the store later. Word has it that you’re serving a sweet new treat just for us book people.”
“Looking forward to it!” Nora smiled and waved as the woman carefully drove around her.
She studied her reflection at the next red light but this time, because she’d rounded the corner, the sun hit her at a different angle. Its morning beams highlighted the burn scars on her cheek and neck. Nora grinned at her image. She wouldn’t trade this version of herself for her younger, unburned self. Even if a genie came along and granted her a single wish, she wouldn’t choose to go b
ack in time.
The subject of genies kept popping up for Nora. Yesterday, a frazzled-looking mother came into Miracle Books with three children in tow. Two of her kids, who appeared close in age, began to argue over which Bailey School Kids to read next. The girl wanted Genies Don’t Ride Bicycles. The boy wanted Aliens Don’t Wear Braces.
“You got to pick last time,” the girl whined. “It’s my turn.”
The mother, who told the siblings to stop arguing or they’d get nothing, rummaged around in her purse until she’d located her phone. As soon as she showed something on the screen to her children, the boy fell into a defeated silence and the girl carried Genies Don’t Ride Bicycles to the checkout counter.
“It’s nice of you to share books with your sister,” Nora later told the boy. He was waiting by the front door while the rest of his family examined the wares on the bookmark spinner. “I thought you might like to try this.” She proffered a copy of Jon Scieszka’s Knight of the Kitchen Table. “It’s part of a series called The Time Warp Trio. There are a bunch of gross scenes that I think are hilarious.”
Accepting the book, the boy gazed at the cover with interest. “I don’t have any money, but I can tell my mom about it.”
“Oh, you can have this one for free,” Nora said. “It’s a used copy and I probably paid a quarter for it. If you tell me your favorite part the next time you come in, that’s worth twenty-five cents to me. Deal?”
The boy agreed and ran over to his family to show off his good fortune. Nora hid in the stacks until they left because she didn’t want the boy’s mother to feel like she was being treated like a charity case and return the book. Luckily for the boy, she didn’t search too hard for Nora, and all of her children departed with smiles on their faces.
The memory of this scene elevated Nora’s sour mood, but not by much. Between her lack of sleep, her concern for Abilene, and the unsettling visit to Jed’s house, she felt like calling it a day. And it was barely noon.
