Page 37 of A Lot Like Lavender

“Only, Dr. Love has tats. Did you know that’s what kids call them?” Mrs. Cotten continues, squeezing her husband's arm and dragging him towards the door. “He’s so handsomeanda doctor. Our Veronica just loves him so much. We’re rooting for ya, honey.”

The door dings behind them and Jordan’s mother, whom I can never look in the eye again, slaps a ten dollar bill on the counter as payment for her order then a twenty into Charlie’s outstretched hand. “Really thought I had you this time, Charlotte.”

Don’t know what that’s about, but Charlie is more than pleased as she slips the crisp twenty into her pocket. “I trust you’ll never doubt my wisdom again.”

“I think we better head out, too.” Dr. Rafferty takes pity on me, pulling Charlie along with her, though not before she stops to grab my hand and give it a firm squeeze.

“Give yourself some grace, girlie,” Charlie says, following Jordan’s mom out, calling back over her shoulder, “And next time ya can’t sleep, ya don’t need a man. You can use some valerian root and ylang ylang. I’ll make ya a roller and drop it by the house later. Free of charge… on the grounds that I feel bad for ya, and ya look worn slap out.”

The door opens, jingling the bell as they hit the pavement, then slams shut in their wake. It’s crazy, though, because the more people exit, the smaller the room seems to become.

“She gave me that roller when I couldn’t sleep during my pregnancy,” Dinah says, pulling out a stool and taking a seat. “Smells like a stale locker room. I’d take the man in a heartbeat.”

“Especiallythatman.” Joey points at the front window where Jordan’s presently being accosted on the street by the Cottens. I can only imagine the tea they’re spilling, but even if they aren’t, he’ll surely notice the grown women now smushing their faces to the window of Knotty & Niceto get a better peek at him.

“Joey!” I screech, hoping to redirect the group. “You’re here! In Georgia. That’s so fun. I didn’t know you were coming home.”

She’s been living in DC for the last couple of years after getting a college internship in sports medicine with the DC Warriors, the local hockey team. Now seems like a great time to catch up and get every last detail out of her. I whistle a few quick times, snapping my fingers. It’s what I do when I need the alpacas to come in from the field, but it doesn’t seem to be working for my friends.

Come on, girls. Here we go. Right over here.

“She’s here for Bonnie’s graduation stuff,” her eldest sister, Chloe, says, ignoring my alpaca calls in favor of the action on Main Street. “Don’t deflect.”

“Oh my gosh”—Brooke sighs appreciatively—“look at that head of hair. Are you kidding me?”

You should see it first thing in the morningis what I don’t say.

“And he has a neck tattoo,” Dinah adds, like she’s making a pros and cons list and that neck piece is at the tippy top of the pro column. I can absolutely never tell her about what lives under his shirt. She wouldn’t survive.

Joey squeals something completely out of character for her. “Oh, I see it. Whoa… the whole,I’m-a-doctorthing, covered in bad-boy tattoosandglasses? Yeah, he’s definitely got some things going for him.”

“He’s totally the quiet, mysterious type, too. Roman talked to Jack, and he said Jordan is kind of shy, but that he’s also been sprucing up the farm. Right, Em?” Chloe asks, completely unaware that she’s just given Bree the perfect stilettos to don as she kicks me while I’m down.

She saunters in my direction, wearing strappy heels on a random Wednesday morning, willy-nilly, like comfort wear. The audacity of this woman.

I sink further into the floor. In Keds.

It would be awfully wonderful if I could disappear right now. Move to another town, state, planet. I’m not picky. No such luck, though, as Bree stops directly in front of me, oh-so satisfied with where this morning has taken her. She’s obviously feeling blessed indeed.

I begin to tick my fingers off of my thumbs, when all I’d really like to do is rip the adorably pink Knotty & Nicebag, filled with my sister’s homebaked goods, right out of Bree’s perfectly manicured claws. No one as mean-spirited as her deserves those perfect, buttered balls of dough, worth their weight in gold. But, I also just announced I spent a half-clothed night in bed with someone who is not my husband, so I don’t deserve pretzels either.

Now I’m embarrassed and unreasonably sad. I love Dinah’s pretzels.

Almost as much as brownies.

“Well, aren’t you just constantly surprising us all, Emory,” Bree hisses. She is so clearly gleeful to have been here for my public service announcement and is no doubt planning the group text thread she’ll be hittingsendon the moment she leaves. “I knew you were playing coy the other day… And to think you tried to be all high and mighty about our new vet, strutting him around your farm like the hired help, when all the while you were just waiting to slip into b?—”

A pretzel bite blindsides Bree, smacking her in the cheek. It falls to the floor, leaving a perfect, oily imprint behind. It almost brings tears to my eyes.

“Oops,” Joey winces. “Slipped.”

I’m so glad she’s home.

Bree scoffs but takes her bad attitude and her undeserved bag of pretzels with her, slipping out of the shop almost unscathed.

Joey licks her fingers unapologetically as Chloe gives her the stink eye but doesn’t reprimand her. No, Chloe sets her butt back on a swivel stool and pats the one next to her. “If you think we are leaving before you give us every nitty-gritty detail, you are absolutely bonkers.”

“Agreed,” Joey says.