The Secret Ingredient of Wishes

by Susan Bishop Crispell

  “No, I was just your standard so-depressed-I-needed-to-be-medicated teenager. And with my family, spending most of my time crying out on the side of the highway where my best friend had died was not acceptable behavior, so they sent me to therapy to get over my issues and keep me from embarrassing them more.”

  “Sounds like them,” Catch muttered, adding, “Okay, you two, go on and get outta my kitchen. I’ve got things to finish up and you’re distracting me.”

  Rachel smiled at Mary Beth to let her know that was a normal reaction and to not take it personally. Leading her back through the house, she bypassed the sitting room in favor of the cool breeze on the front porch.

  “Is it happening again?” Mary Beth asked as they slid into the rockers. “The wishes?”

  “Yeah. They had stopped for so long it was easy to tell myself they were gone for good. But then I came here and it’s like the floodgates opened,” Rachel said, staring at a splintery groove in the arm of the rocking chair. She traced it with her fingertip. The wood was sticky with humidity and left a smudge of dirt on her skin. “I’ve picked up the phone so many times in the past week to call you, but I didn’t know how to tell you what’s been going on here without you sending someone over with a straightjacket.” She smiled at the lame joke.

  Mary Beth’s throaty laugh broke the tension. Looking sideways at Rachel, she said, “That’s not the kind of thing you let strangers do. At least not to the people you love. I’ve got one in the car just in case.”

  Rachel reached out and linked her fingers with Mary Beth’s. “That’s true love right there.”

  “Damn right,” Mary Beth said.

  “So, you’re not going to disown me if I keep using my ability?”

  “I want you to be happy, Ray. And whatever does that, I’m okay with. I’ve been telling you for years you needed to move on from all the baggage you’ve been carrying around. Maybe this is a step in the right direction.”

  “You think I’ve moved on?”

  “Well, not in a bad way. Not moved on from me or anything because that’s just unacceptable. But moved to a better place emotionally. And, not that it’s my first choice, but you could stay in Nowhere if that’s what you want,” Mary Beth said.

  No she couldn’t. Not if everyone in Nowhere kept blaming her for everything that went wrong. But if Rachel could find a way to control her ability like Catch said, then maybe.

  “You’d really be okay if I didn’t come back to Memphis?” Rachel asked.

  “Define okay.”

  “You know, able to perform basic human functions. Actual happiness is out of the question if I’m not there, but as long as you can put on a brave face for Geoff and the girls, I’ll be able to go about my business without any worries.”

  “I’m sure I can muster up something to fool them,” Mary Beth said with a laugh. “But I don’t want it to seem like I’m trying to talk you into this. Especially if you want to come home. ’Cause I’d be all for you packing up your things and driving back with me this weekend.”

  Rachel looked up at the rumble of an engine. Ashe’s truck slowed on the street. Music blared through the open window, the metal thumping from the bass. He reversed and pulled into the driveway, kicking up gravel and dust. The engine cut off and the music died.

  When he skirted around the hood of the truck in charcoal suit pants and a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, Rachel had to look twice to make sure it was Ashe. He glanced up and saw her, his tired expression morphing into an easy grin.

  Mary Beth let out a soft whistle. “Hello, hot neighbor. I see baking’s not the only thing you’ve picked up while you’ve been here,” she said under her breath.

  Rachel forced herself to look away from him. “It’s not ‘picked up’ so much as ‘fell in a whole pile of complicated with.’”

  “More like a whole pile of hormones.”

  Ashe jogged up the porch steps and ran a hand through his hair. When he saw Mary Beth, he froze.

  “Oh, wow. Hi,” he said. He stared at her, lips parted and eyes sparking with recognition. “I’m Ashe.”

  “Hey,” Mary Beth said, drawing out the word into two syllables. She glanced at Rachel, eyebrows raised.

  Rachel’s skin prickled with heat despite the cool breeze. She pushed up from the chair and the rock shifted under the right runner, so she had to lurch forward to avoid slamming into the house. Ashe caught her as she stumbled to her feet. He rubbed his fingers up and down her arms.

  “This is—” she started, staring at his chest, the top of his fraying collar.

  “Mary Beth. Yeah, I got that,” he said. He tipped Rachel’s chin up. He pushed a strand of hair back from her face and met her eyes.

  “My best friend,” Rachel finished.

  “Your best friend is…?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Guess this means you’re not free for dinner,” he said, releasing her. “Can we talk later?”

  Goose bumps sprouted on her arms where his hands had been. “Yeah.”

  “Rachel,” Mary Beth said from behind her. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry,” Ashe said. He half-waved at Mary Beth before heading down the sidewalk to his truck. He looked back at her just once, his shoulders slumped and the tension pinching his mouth into a thin line, before he closed the truck door behind him.

  Mary Beth grabbed Rachel’s hand and jerked her back into the chair. Her nails dug into the soft underside of her forearm. Rachel tucked a leg under her and took a deep breath.

  “There’s something I need to tell you. I should’ve told you a while ago, but, I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t want you to not come visit because of it,” she said.

  “You’ve already made up your mind to stay permanently,” Mary Beth said.

  “Not what I was going to say.” She started rocking. The chair grated against the wood planks beneath, scratching softly. Taking a deep breath, Rachel blurted out, “Your sister’s here.”

  Mary Beth’s smile melted away. “Shit.” She scanned the yard as if expecting Lola to jump out from behind a tree or lamppost. “How is she here?”

  “She lives here, Mae. She’s been in Nowhere since your family left Memphis.”

  “Since they left me, you mean?”

  Rachel nodded. It wouldn’t do any good to remind her friend she was the one who told them to leave her alone in the first place. That she hadn’t wanted to believe them when they said everything would be fine again if she’d just put the accident behind her and move on. That she had refused to see them so many times they finally gave her exactly what she’d wanted.

  “How do you even know it’s her?” Mary Beth asked.

  “Lola recognized me from one time when she visited you. She asked me to help her get in touch with you. But she doesn’t know that we’re still friends. I didn’t tell her anything.”

  Mary Beth gripped her hand, squeezing hard until Rachel looked at her. The flecks of gold in her hazel eyes intensified when she said, “She hasn’t tried to get in touch with me in ten years. Why would she want to see me now?”

  “I have no idea. But it shouldn’t be too hard to find out,” Rachel said.

  25

  It took the better part of breakfast, but Rachel managed to pry directions to Lola’s apartment out of Catch the next morning, along with a mumbled “Don’t come crying to me if this don’t work out.” Catch’s eyes flicked to Mary Beth, who, hands shoved in the back pockets of her jeans, shifted her weight from one foot to the other and back again.

  They made the five-minute drive to downtown in silence. The building was older and similar enough to the two on either side that Rachel had to check the number again to make sure they picked the right one. The stone front was faded and chipped. The topiaries in large cement planters on either side of the door had been cut to resemble corkscrews.

  Mary Beth clutched the back of Rachel’s shirt and tugged her to a stop. “I don’t think I can do this,”
she whispered. “It’s been so long. I’m a totally different person now.”

  “Listen, you were both young enough not to have a choice before. Now you can decide your relationship on your terms.” She unhooked Mary Beth’s fingers from her shirt and they walked inside.

  The spacious lobby didn’t match the outside. It was classy and sleek and still somehow reminiscent of the original building. The inset ceiling painted in a steely gray accented by white crossbeams and the arched doorways of the elevators all but screamed Ashe had renovated the building. The more she was around him, the easier it was to pick out his work.

  They continued up the curving staircase to the third floor. The paneled white doors all had brushed-nickel numbers affixed to them. Rachel stopped when they reached the corner unit. She looked at Mary Beth and hesitated.

  Mary Beth was staring at the door like it was the only thing keeping her safe. Her cheeks paled. “You knock,” she said.

  Rachel waited another few seconds to make sure Mary Beth wasn’t going to faint, then knocked.

  Lola cracked the door just far enough to see out.

  Rachel didn’t even try to smile. “Can we come in for a minute?”

  “Depends. Who’s ‘we’?”

  “Me and Mary Beth.”

  “She’s here? She’s here now?” Lola stammered. She nudged the door wider but clutched at the edge before it opened far enough to see inside. She turned and looked at something in the room. “Can you give me just a second?”

  Rachel nodded, and the door shut in her face.

  Mary Beth slipped her hand into Rachel’s and held tight. “Is there anything I can say to convince you to go in there with me?”

  As happy as she was to be able to help her friend find some closure with her sister, a speck of jealousy had wormed its way into her heart. She would never have that with Michael. And she couldn’t sit there watching Mary Beth and Lola reconnect and pretend like it wasn’t eating her up inside.

  Forcing herself to stay focused on her friend, she said, “It’ll just make things even more awkward if I do. You’ll be fine. I promise. Text me if you need me. And there’s wine and pie back at the house if you need it.”

  Mary Beth hugged her. “I don’t know how I’ve survived without you for almost two months.”

  “Back at ya,” Rachel said.

  When the door opened, she didn’t want to let go of Mary Beth’s hand. She gave it a squeeze for reassurance and stepped aside.

  Lola’s eyes sparkled with tears. She looked at her sister, her glossed lips turned up in a tentative smile. “Sorry. I thought it would be better to see you for the first time when I wasn’t in my pajamas,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t have minded,” Mary Beth said.

  “Your hair’s so short.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Mary Beth tugged on the ends. “It’s good to see you, Lola.”

  “You too. You have no idea how good,” Lola said. She smiled the first genuine smile Rachel had seen from her. “Come on in.” She held the door wide for them and grabbed Rachel’s wrist before she could walk away. Her grip was light, just enough to make Rachel pause. “I know you didn’t do this for me, but thank you,” she whispered.

  Rachel stepped back into the hall, letting Lola’s hand fall away. “I know what it’s like to miss someone you love and thought you had lost forever. I couldn’t stand in the way of y’all getting each other back.”

  If she couldn’t know how good it felt to have that moment happen with Michael, at least she could give it to her best friend.

  * * *

  After leaving Mary Beth to talk with her sister, Rachel went to find Ashe. She owed him an explanation. And an apology.

  She passed through the bubble of cool, calming air in front of LUX and took a deep breath as the feeling faded when she reached the entrance to the new space. She hesitated on the sidewalk. Ashe stood by the far wall, scribbling something on a note taped to the new paint. He looked up, saw Rachel. His face softened as he pushed a stray strand of hair off his forehead. She plucked at her shirt that stuck to her balmy skin as she walked inside.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Mary Beth,” she said.

  Ashe tapped the clipboard against his palm and raised an eyebrow at her. “So, Lola’s long-lost sister is your best friend. Only in Nowhere would that make sense.”

  “Catch said something about Nowhere being one hell of a lost and found and it being inevitable. I didn’t quite follow it then, but I get it now.”

  Ashe leaned against the wall separating the retail space from the new workroom. The light from the workroom brought out the sharp blond highlights in his hair. “She has this theory that all sorts of lost things end up here. Stolen paintings that have been missing for decades suddenly turn up in someone’s attic or garage sale. Bags of money tumble out from behind drywall during a home renovation. Wedding rings that disappeared down a drain or slipped off at a beach fall out of books at the library. And people passing through town on their way to who knows where end up staying, like Nowhere was where they were headed all along.”

  He nodded to her, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

  “Do those things really happen, or is that just some line to keep the tourists hanging around a few more days?” she asked.

  “You didn’t plan on staying here, and then when you tried to leave, you couldn’t. If you had, Mary Beth and Lola might not have ever found each other again, so you tell me.”

  Rachel brushed her hand over the velvety cream-colored fabric of the chaise lounge. “Do you think that’s the only reason I’m here? Not that giving Mary Beth a second chance with her family isn’t enough. But maybe I’m stuck here so that I can find something I’ve lost too?”

  “Stuck?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I thought you liked it here.”

  “I do, Ashe. But I’m not exactly in the running for citizen of the year. Do you know how much it sucks to be in a place where almost no one wants you? A whole lot, in case you were wondering.”

  “Sounds to me like that’s a very convenient excuse to get the hell out of Dodge and never look back,” he said.

  “I won’t say that’s not part of it. But I’ve tried to leave and the town wouldn’t let me. So maybe if there’s nothing else for me to find here, it will and I’ll know Nowhere isn’t where I’m supposed to be.”

  Pushing off the wall, Ashe walked to her and took her hand. He circled her around to the side of the chaise, nudged her onto it, and squatted in front of her. He rested his forearms on her knees, holding her hands between them. “I think if you want to find something badly enough, you can make it happen here.”

  “You don’t know how badly I hope you’re right,” she said.

  A wish started to form in her mind, and, closing her eyes, she willed it away.

  * * *

  Sitting in the kitchen, Rachel picked at the crust of the toasted tomato and mozzarella sandwich Catch had served for lunch. A chunk of it fell off and scattered crumbs on the counter as it broke apart. She hid the bits of crust under the edge of her plate with her pinky and took a bite before Catch could snap at her for playing with her food.

  It had been more than three hours since she’d left Mary Beth at Lola’s. The only text Rachel had gotten said Lola would drive Mary Beth back “later.” And though her conversation with Ashe had calmed some of her nerves, she hoped that the extended visit meant things were going well between the Beaumont sisters.

  Catch had already cleared their plates and started amassing ingredients for the next pie when the front screen door creaked open.

  “In the kitchen,” Rachel called. She turned on the stool and held her breath. “Well?” she asked when Mary Beth reached them.

  She sat on a stool next to Rachel, slipping her arm around her waist tightly. Leaning her head on Rachel’s shoulder, she said, “It was weird. I mean it was good, but it was also so weird.”

  “Maybe I should’ve kept my m
outh shut?”

  “No. I’m glad you didn’t.”

  “Are you sure?” Rachel asked.

  “There was so much I wanted to ask her, so much that I wanted to know about her life,” Mary Beth said. She released Rachel and slouched onto her elbows. “But at the same time I didn’t want to tell her about Geoff and the girls. I did, eventually, because she saw the wedding ring and asked. But the whole time, all I could think was ‘I don’t want her to tell our parents.’”

  “After everything you’ve been through with them, it’s understandable.”

  Catch stopped adding ingredients to the glass bowl and pointed her wooden spoon toward Mary Beth. “You’re being cautious. In my opinion, that’s not a bad thing. That girl’s had years to find you and she didn’t. That’s gotta tell you something.”

  Mary Beth sighed and sank lower onto her arms. “She’s not the only one to blame. I didn’t try to find her either.”

  “Ashe said there’s a box of letters she wrote to you but never mailed in his attic. Want me to have him bring them over?” Rachel asked.

  “If it’s okay with Lola that would be great. Reading them might help me figure out what to do now. I’ll text her and let you know.”

  Slamming the refrigerator door, Catch glared at them both. “I hope she’s more trustworthy toward you than she was toward Ashe.” She ripped the paper from a stick of butter, exposing the top half, and rubbed it along the pie dish. “But things have a way of coming out in Nowhere, as Rachel can tell you. They’ll find out you’re here if you don’t do something about it. I can make you a pie, if you want.”

  Rachel put a hand on Catch’s arm. “No.”

  “What? My pies are fine for everyone else, but not your friend?”

  Mary Beth’s stool creaked as she leaned forward. “What exactly are we making a pie to do?”

  Catch shook off Rachel’s hand and narrowed her eyes, making the wrinkles bunch up on her forehead. “To keep your parents from knowing you were ever here.”

  “You can make people forget things with pie?” Mary Beth looked both confused and intrigued.