“Maybe you need a bigger change than moving to the country gave you,” Mik said with a grin. “Maybe it’s time to look into teaching abroad or, I dunno, heading east?”
“Like New York?”
“I hear North Carolina is trendy these days.” Mikaiya shrugged. “Would definitely be better dating prospects than anywhere in the Northwest for you.”
“Much better than Paradise Valley, right?”
Although Skylar had said that as drolly as possible, Mik still winced. “You did say you wanted to take a break from dating, anyway.”
“It’s not a lack of dates that’s killing me.” It was true that she hadn’t been on one since moving to Paradise Valley. Who was she going to date? The only single men were over thirty-five and could hardly carry a conversation. Not all of them looked that different from the single guys in Portland, either. Skylar had come to learn about the “Oregonian” aesthetic that made up a bulk of people’s fashion choices, whether they were men or women. I’ve never lived somewhere more egalitarian with style. Everyone had body hair, and everyone covered it up with socks in their sandals and hoodies on their torsos. “I feel like I’m treading water. I don’t know what I expected to happen when I moved here with you. Honestly, that’s probably the problem. I had no plan beyond getting any job I could. Well, let me tell ya, Mik, working at a pizza place for nine months kills your soul a bit.”
“I remember how hard you looked for a job, too.”
“Don’t remind me.” Skylar had been in every business and applied to every listing she saw online, assuming it wasn’t hard, manual labor. It still took her several weeks to get a call back anywhere that was more promising than “Why don’t you come in and have a chat with the manager?” The bank and the supermarket were her biggest leads until it turned out they didn’t have the cash for a new employee. After a year in Paradise Valley, Skylar realized that almost nobody left their jobs, no matter how old they were or how much experience they had. (Which wasn’t much to begin with.)
“This is kinda timely, though,” Mik said. “The other night, Ari asked me if it’s time for us to move in together.”
Speaking of timing, Mik had picked that moment to air out her secrets in public. Timely, because Heaven Mossberg appeared with their small plates of hot food. She raised her eyebrows at what Mik said, but pretended she hadn’t heard a thing as she wished them well with their meal and returned to the kitchen.
“As you were saying?” Skylar asked.
“Yeah, well… you heard me.” The red in Mik’s cheeks matched the cherry red tomatoes dotting her plate. “Ari wants to move in together, but we’re not sure how to go about it. Shit gets complicated when you remember somebody has to live with my grandma. She likes to think she can take care of herself right now, but you know the moment we move out, she’ll be on the floor cursing her walker on the other side of the room.”
While the image of an old woman with health issues screaming “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” shouldn’t have been hilarious, this was Abby Marcott they were talking about. If any woman could reenact everyone’s favorite informercial and have it be a good thing, it was her. Except it also wasn’t a good thing. Because, uh…
I’m on a roll here.
“Ari had the idea of moving into the house and you possibly taking over the lease at her place. You would have more privacy and not have to deal with my grandma. On the other hand, you’d have to pay four-fifty a month for the rent. Which I know would be…”
“Yeah, I can’t afford that.” Ninety percent of Skylar’s meager paycheck went to her student loans and healthcare. The only reason she had lasted this long in Paradise Valley was because she lived rent free in Mik’s childhood home.
Mikaiya nodded. “I told her we needed to wait while we figure things out. She won’t have a problem finding someone to take over her lease when the time comes, so we’re not worried about that. But I worry about…” She stopped.
“Me, right?”
“I guess so. I don’t want to move Ari into our house and have four people living there. That’s not fair to anyone. Especially my grandma. She’ll think she has a full-time staff now.”
“Your grandma already thinks that.”
“To be fair, both of her kids died a long-ass time ago, and she had a terrible ex-husband. And she’s had how many major strokes? She can feel like she has a staff if she wants. She’s kinda earned it by this point.”
“Your grandma is a pain in the ass, but I can only hope that I’m half as badass as her when I’m that age.”
“Well, I don’t think the badassery is genetic, so I’m right there with you in the hoping and praying. Can we eat now?”
It was easier to talk of lighter things when they ate. The café was slowly filling with people enjoying brunch, anyway, and in a town that small, one did not simply trot out the existentialism unless they wanted the whole place talking about it. While couples ordered sandwiches, students spread out their study materials, and friends laughed about what happened at church, Mik and Skylar debated whether Season 1 or 2 of “Castle Rock” was better.
Their bowls were clean of soup and their plates empty of everything but crumbs when the café door slammed open and admitted one of Paradise Valley’s most recognizable faces. Although Skylar didn’t interact with Dominic Delacour that often – apparently, the Delacours weren’t huge on pizza – everyone knew he made the rounds at the library and cafés. He had lots of studying to do, apparently. Sounds like Portland. At least that was the same in both places.
“Hey, Dominic!” Heaven waved from behind the cold case. “How’s it going? You finish your finals yet?”
Naturally, their voices were loud enough to drown out the commotion in the café. Skylar used it as an opportunity to get some serious eating in so she could digest her brunch before going to work. Mikaiya scrolled through her phone.
“Getting there!” Dominic approached the counter, his black and blue backpack sliding off one arm. “I only really have one test to study for. Everything else is either free from finals or a paper. I have to write ten pages on color theory. Write a paper on color theory. I better get some caffeine, huh?”
This would have been an uneventful conversation if it weren’t for the arms waving outside the window and across the street.
“What the…” Heaven leaned across the counter and snorted. “I think someone’s trying to get your attention,” she said to Dominic.
He glanced over his shoulder, which ended with a double-take and a dropped jaw. “What is she doing?” That was a reference to his big sister, who stood in front of her deli and waved her arms like she was flagging a plane for landing.
“Check it out,” Skylar said, directing Mik’s attentions toward the window. “Main Street is happening.”
“What is she on?” Dominic opened the front door and stuck his head outside. “What!”
Frankie Delacour cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted something Skylar couldn’t hear.
Dominic popped back into the café. “I guess I forgot my wallet. Go figure.” While Heaven leaned against her counter, hand on her hip, Dominic opened the door as wide as it could go and motioned for his sister to toss his wallet across Main Street.
She tossed her hands into the air instead.
“I ain’t going back across traffic!” he shouted. “Toss it! I know you got a good arm!”
Frankie gestured that he could come over and get his wallet like a normal person. When Dominic shrugged, she turned back into her deli and later reemerged with what must have been his… well, wallet.
“Oh, this is gonna be good,” Heaven said.
Dominic stood on the sidewalk while cars zoomed in either direction. Speed limit in Paradise Valley may have been thirty, but that was fast enough to splatter a man against the asphalt – or his wallet, for that matter.
“They’re really doing this, huh?” Mik asked. A small crowd had gathered around the window. Absolutely no pressure, huh, Frankie?
The woman in question pulled back her arm and chucked her brother’s wallet into the air.
Mik hissed through her teeth. The former softball player hated a bad throw, huh?
“Oh, man.” Dominic hung his head. A pickup truck had already smashed his wallet right on the yellow line. “That’s harsh.”
“So…” Heaven folded her arms on top of the cold case. “Cash or card?”
He whipped his phone out of his back pocket. “I’ve got Google Wallet!”
“We’re in business!”
Skylar and Mik exchanged a look. “Guess we’re ignoring the fact that someone’s wallet is currently pancaked on the highway, huh?” Skylar said.
“You gotta hand it to this town,” Mik replied. “Not much may happen, but it’s rarely a dull moment on Main Street.”
Skylar didn’t disagree. She could always find some mild form of entertainment in Paradise Valley. Too bad “mild” was about as spicy as it got in rural Oregon.
Chapter 5
SALAMA & HEAVEN
The worst thing about living above a pizza parlor was also the best thing. Or is that the other way around? Salama hurried through getting ready, realizing only when halfway out the door that she had grabbed the wrong headscarf out of her closet. She had meant to wear the Christmassy ruby red instead of the same pine green she had been wearing for most of December. It was like a game, really. Green for a normal day. Red for something special. The red and green one with the snowflakes sparkles was saved for the actual big event of the month.
She went back to get the red headscarf. Since this cut into her time, however, Salama wasn’t as careful as usual, and realized half of her bangs were hanging out of her hijab, which rather defeated the point of cultural modesty.
“Screw it.” She took a deep breath and finally stepped outside, where she met both her best friend and mortal nemesis.
The scent of pizza.
Salama never got used to it. From the first day she moved into one of the tiny apartments above the pizza shop, she had been inhaling that familiar mix of grease, cheese, and yeast. Early in the morning it was yeast city. By mid-morning, she smelled the hints of Italian sauces and herbs that made her crave spaghetti. By the afternoon and evening, the grease had fully settled in and either soured her stomach or made her so famished she went down to get a slice.
I’ve eaten so much damn pizza this year… they nearly get me every time. How much weight had Salama gained from pizza alone? Probably at least five pounds. Maybe that didn’t sound like much, but that didn’t include the extra ten pounds from living in Heaven’s house and her café when it was convenient. After nearly a year of dating, Salama had made peace with the new pooch on her stomach. Heaven never said anything about it. Shit, Heaven would have no room to talk! She ate her own cookies and had a pooch, too!
It was an adorable pooch…
Salama bypassed the pizza place and hustled down the street. The only part of her body confronting the freeze of the winter air was her face, which was permanently stuck with a smile that would be burned there forever should a car slide on the ice and show her an untimely end on the sidewalk. That’s not gonna happen. Because today is a great day! The only reason Salama didn’t run down to the café, where her girlfriend was hard at work selling gingerbread and hazelnut lattes to the town, was because she saw glints of ice still left on the edges of the sidewalk. Just because good luck was on her side didn’t mean she courted the bad!
The café was mostly full, but Salama recognized them as regulars who kept to themselves while having quiet conversations or keeping their eyes glued to their laptops. Some of them nodded at her when she entered, but she was in such a hurry that she only had eyes for the woman in a red Santa apron and with reindeer antlers in her curly brown hair.
“Hey, hey!” Salama no longer thought twice about going behind the counter. Hell, she spent half her days helping out at the café. Nobody blinked to see a woman, with all of her hair covered, hovering by the drinks and snacks. Honestly, I’m more hygienic than Heaven half the time. Heaven got away with having her hair pulled back, but Salama saw how many strands of brown hair were left behind on the floor – and the counters.
Heaven looked up from the latte art she drew. That time of year, she favored candy canes and holly berries instead of the generic leaves, suns, and stars. Yet Salama had distracted her so badly that whoever got that latte was looking at a semi-artistic swirl that was meant to be a giant berry. “What’s up? You look like drunk Rudolph is pulling your sleigh for one big joyride.”
Salama waited until she had more of her girlfriend’s attention before making her big announcement. “My article made front page feature on Medium!”
Heaven’s eyes lit up, but that wasn’t praise coming out of her mouth. “Front page, huh? I didn’t know they featured articles on their front page.”
Salama squealed in ire at her girlfriend’s pedantic self. “You know what I mean! I’m a feature article for the LGBT tag! It’s happened! Finally!”
“That’s great, hon!” Heaven threw her arms around Salama, giving her the tightest squeeze either of them had savored in much too long. “Which article was it, huh? Tell me it was the one about working in my café in your quaint little small town.”
How could Salama respond to that without rolling her eyes? “That was a different website. No, the one I had published on Medium was a rewrite of my older article about being, you know, me in small town America. Apparently it’s gotten a lot of traction on social media and now it’s blowing up! I’ve gone viral!”
She said that so loudly that half of the café looked up from what they were doing. Right. That time of year, “viral” was synonymous with the flu. With Salama standing behind the counter, she better be careful with what she said. Otherwise, everyone would think she was spreading that year’s special virus to the masses. There’s an article for you…
“That’s seriously amazing! Print it out so we can frame it!” Heaven motioned to the section of the café wall reserved for local uplifting news.
Although Salama was instantly touched by the offer, she didn’t hesitate to say, “Babe, it’s like a thousand words long. That would take up half the wall.”
“A thousand words? How many pages is that? Make the text smaller. It will work!”
“Nobody would be able to read it if I made the text small enough to fit on one ‘page’.” How many pages? Seriously? Salama adored her girlfriend, but a whole year of dating hadn’t been enough to drill into Heaven’s head that writers didn’t talk in terms of page counts. Especially when it came to online content writing.
But that was okay. Heaven didn’t need to know those things. That was Salama’s court. All Heaven had to do was be supportive and occasionally proofread something before Salama submitted an article to her editors.
“You should go have a seat,” Heaven said. “I’ll bring you a new tea we got in.”
“Oh, the teas are in?”
“Yup! You know, that new teashop opening up the street really got me thinking about shaking things up around here. Of course, you’re my local tea connoisseur, so I’m looking forward to your verdicts before I decide which ones to stick with.”
Salama found her favorite corner seat, although she always felt weird now that she was dating the owner of the establishment. This was a small town, after all, and her differences made her stick out even if people didn’t mind them. Every single person walking through the door saw the “gal in the headscarf” and knew she was Heaven’s girlfriend. Taking up space without having paid for it probably. Everyone told Salama that it was the nature of small town businesses, but she could never shake the feeling that people judged her.
Oh, well! She was too excited about her news to feel bad now.
Salama put down her phone when Heaven popped out of the kitchen with a cup of tea that smelled of raspberries. A plate containing a small lemon bar accompanied the teacup, but it was the cutely wrapped present that caught Salama off guard.
>
“What’s this?” she asked.
Heaven sat down across from her. “An early Christmas present.”
“Thought I told you I didn’t mind celebrating Christmas with you.” Not like Salama was a stranger to Christmas. She may have grown up Muslim, but she had plenty of friends, especially in college, who put up trees and exchanged gifts. She may have participated a time or two! “You think I haven’t grown up in America and become accustomed to practically having that whole week off?”
Heaven blew a tuft of curly hair out of her face. “Early Christmas present. It means I give you one before Christmas. Like a teaser.”
“Why now?”
“Hon, why the hell not? You shared some really big and exciting news with me. I think I have every right to choose this moment to give you a related gift!”
“Related, huh? This gets curiouser.”
“Would you open it, already?”
Before she had the chance to indulge in her goodies, Salama untied the bow around the top of her present and peeked into the green wrapping paper. A black box lurked beneath. Not enough for her to go on, but she would figure it out soon enough.
“Oh, my God.” Heaven sighed. “You’re really drawing this out, huh? You know I can’t take too long of a break, right, hon?”
“Torturing you is part of the fun.” Salama shook the box next to her ear. “I think that might be the real gift you’ve given me right now.”
“For real. Open it, already!”
December Wishes (A Year in Paradise Book 12) Page 3
