The Secret Ingredient of Wishes (14 page)

It was a good wish.

A wish that might work out the way it was supposed to.

If Rachel let it.

Her eyes flicked up, immediately scanning for the wish to appear before she'd even decided what she wanted to do about it. And she waited. The seconds ticked by with no paper disturbing the air. Relieved that Ashe's happiness wasn't pinned on her, she dropped her gaze and found the wish resting faceup on the counter a few inches from the tips of her fingers. She slid it toward her, tucking it under her palm, not ready to face it.

*   *   *

Mary Beth called back ten minutes after Catch ushered Rachel out of the kitchen claiming she needed a little peace and quiet. Violet's voice cut through the still air of her bedroom, making Rachel laugh despite the disgust that had settled in the house like a fine dust since Lola left.

“Hey, stranger,” Mary Beth said.

Rachel took a deep breath and expelled the remnants of her bad mood. “I'm sorry, who is this? You sound familiar, but I can't quite place the voice. How do we know each other again?”

“We shared our darkest secrets in a roomful of people. You're the godmother of my kids, I think. But maybe that becomes null and void when said godmother moves away.”

“If I remember correctly, you're the one who said this might be a good thing.”

“That was before I knew leaving meant falling off the face of the Earth. Is it too late to take it back?” Mary Beth asked.

Rachel curled her legs to her chest and leaned against the sill below the window. The air from the ceiling fan was cool on her skin. “I miss you.”

“I miss you back.”

“You sound good. I take it living in some old lady's attic is working for you?” Mary Beth asked.

“Strangely, yeah. Things are a little odd here, but it feels right, like this is the way life is supposed to be and everyone else has got it wrong.” Rachel looked out at the trees and her heart gave a little pang of worry for Ashe and what he would do if he discovered what was killing the plum tree. Turning her gaze away, she said, “Okay, enough about me. How are the girls and Geoff?”

“They're great. They miss you almost as much as I do. Violet keeps asking me when you're coming home. And every time I tell her it'll be soon 'cause I can't bear to tell her I have no clue when you're coming back.” Her voice was quiet, like saying it any louder would somehow make it true.

The idea that she was in no hurry to go back to Memphis didn't give Rachel the immediate knot in her stomach she'd expected. “I'll send her a postcard so she knows I haven't forgotten her. And once I know what I'm doing, I'll come back and visit or y'all can come here.”

“I'd feel better about you being there if I could meet Catch and the sexy neighbor.”

Rachel laid her head on her arm, imagining having Mary Beth here. In Catch's kitchen, eating pie. Sunlight poured through the window, hugging her skin so a soft heat buzzed up her arms. Her eyes drifted back to the brown leaves of the plum tree. The bark was a dark ashy color, and it tilted toward Ashe's house like it wanted to spill its secrets to him.

“Hey, Mae?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever happened with the pony from Vi's birthday?”

“Animal control came out and removed it. Said they'd had no reports of missing ponies but they took it with a promise to Vi to find it a really good home. Then she made them agree to send her the address so she could go visit it.”

“Of course she did.”

“Yeah, well, wishes for magical unicorn-ponies don't come true every day.”

No, they don't. But other wishes do.

After she hung up with Mary Beth, she slid the wish about Ashe out from under her pillow where she'd stashed it and read the inky words. She pressed the small white strip of paper to her chest as she thought,
Please let Ashe be happy.

 

14

Rachel already regretted agreeing to go to the barbecue festival with Everley. Going to an event that promised to put her in the same vicinity as Lola had her stomach in knots. When she'd granted Catch's wish about Ashe, she hadn't considered how Lola would react to Ashe moving on. But then she remembered how possessive Lola had seemed over Ashe the first day they'd met, and with most of the town present, there was a high probability of it blowing up in Rachel's face.

She stopped twice on the flagstone path that led to Everley's door, debating what Everley would do if she didn't show up.

The house, like Everley's shop, was chic and modern. The creamy honeysuckle paint was trimmed in a shocking white. The muted aqua front door added a dash of whimsy. Two rocking chairs, a small table, and an orange tabby curled in a ball on one of the cushions took up three quarters of the small front porch. The never-ending glass windows and doors reflected the well-manicured lawn.

The six-foot hydrangea at the corner of the porch burst with dozens of clusters of pink and green flowers. The humming of a distant lawn mower mixed with the bees buzzing around the flowers in wooden planters that lined the porch steps, giving the early-afternoon air an electric feel.

She hurried up the walk and rang the doorbell before she changed her mind.

“You are not going to Brews N Cue in shorts,” Everley scolded when she opened the door and saw Rachel's outfit—a pair of khaki shorts that hit mid-thigh and a faded blue T-shirt.

“What? It's like a hundred degrees out here,” Rachel said.

“God, you're such a guy. Follow me.”

The rooms in Everley's house whizzed by in flashes of lavender and moss and corn silk as Rachel tried to match Everley's long strides. They ended in a coral-painted bedroom. Even with the lights off, the room glowed.

Everley disappeared into a walk-in closet the size of Rachel's attic room. She emerged a minute later with a pear-colored slip of fabric dangling from a wooden hanger. “You, my fashion-challenged friend, are going to wear a dress. This dress, actually.”

“That is way too nice for me to wear,” Rachel said, letting the dress float to the floor when Everley tossed it to her. It gathered in a cool heap on her feet, the fabric spilling like grass clippings across the almost-black hardwoods. “I'll be eating barbecue. With messy sauce. I don't want to get anything on it.”

“Oh, but letting it lay in a wrinkled heap on the floor is okay?” Everley asked.

“As long as I don't have to wear it, yes.”

“You don't understand. The festival is an event. All the ladies get dressed up and the guys are on their best behavior. We have a pie-eating contest, and judges pick the best barbecue, and we have a Miss Cue contest where one girl is crowned the barbecue queen for the year. It's a big deal. You cannot go looking like that. I'm sorry. You just can't.”

“Why are you wearing shorts, then?” she asked.

“'Cause I'm not dressed yet. I bought this adorable little dark periwinkle strapless dress just for today. So, pick that one up and put it on before I'm forced to do it for you.” Everley winked at her as she whirled out of the room.

With the threat hanging in the air, Rachel did as she was told.

There was no way to wear a bra with it, she realized, after twisting and converting her straps into every position she could think of. At least the dress's halter straps and empire waist made it so a bra wasn't a necessity. She heaved the top up so another centimeter of skin was covered.

Everley came back ten minutes later in a flowy purple dress that hit a few inches below her knee. “How does this dress fit you?” Rachel asked, tugging at the band of material covering her chest. “I'm only a B cup and I'm not sure I'm going to stay in this thing.”

“It's not mine. Catch
may
have mentioned that there were exactly zero dresses in your closet,” Everley said. “So I remedied that problem.”

“Wait, you bought this for me?”

“And shoes too. A dress like that begs for new shoes.”

Rachel took the box Everley handed her and slipped off the lid to reveal a pair of off-white heels with peep-toes. “Thank you, Everley. Seriously. This is beyond sweet of you. But—”

“No, don't you dare try and tell me you can't accept them. Because you're going to wear the hell out of that outfit and remind a certain someone there are other fish in the sea.”

“What if said fish doesn't want to be noticed?” Rachel asked. But she couldn't stop the hitch in her breath at the thought of Ashe checking her out. This was just the type of dress Mary Beth would have forced on her too. All girlie and sexy and nothing Rachel would even look at twice. “And what if said boy finds out he's being manipulated?”

“He'd be smart enough to thank me.”

*   *   *

The riverfront park was swarming with people and barbecue smoke. Wisps of white furled up from large black cookers, saturating the muggy air with the scent of charcoal and tangy spices. Blankets, chairs, and bodies covered so much of the grass that the small bits of green that poked through looked like a trick of the light.

Rachel hung around the periphery while Everley trudged into the masses, hugging every other person she passed. Rachel recognized a few faces as customers from the shop. She waved to Miss Lavender-Buttermilk-Hand-Cream. Exchanged hellos with Mrs. Peppermint-Salt-Scrub. Then she pretended to be engrossed in the handwritten menus nailed to posts at each booth. She read a few just in case anyone asked her about them:
Pulled pork sandwich. Pork plate. Pork shoulder. Pork butt. Pork ribs.

“Don't y'all have some beef brisket anywhere?” Rachel asked when Everley emerged from the crowd.

“Blasphemy!” Everley said, laughing. “Old Eddie always enters a Texas style. He comes in dead last every year.”

“Is his barbecue that bad?”

“I don't know. I've never tried it.”

Holding her hand out, Rachel kept Everley from walking away before she could explain. “But don't you vote for the best? How can you do that if you didn't even try one?” Rachel asked.

Everley gave Rachel a pitying look and chuckled. “No self-respecting North Carolinian wants beef. Or tomato-based sauce. But he's down at the end, there. The only one without a line. I'm sure he'd enjoy the company.”

“I'm sure I would too,” Rachel said. She took two steps in his direction and stopped. Ashe was a few yards away talking to Jamie and a cluster of guys she recognized from the crew working on the addition to Everley's store. The low rumbling of their voices as they talked about some game they wanted to watch that night carried back to her.

“What's up with you and Ashe?” Everley asked. “Did you have a fight or something?”

“We're fine,” Rachel replied, too fast.

“Liar,” Everley said.

Rachel glanced at Ashe again. He looked happy, but she didn't know if that was due to Catch's wish or because it hadn't taken effect yet. She grabbed Everley's arms, backing them both up a few steps, and figured she could give Everley some part of the truth. “Fine. I think, like you, Catch is trying to set us up. Or at least put the notion in his head that maybe he should be interested in me.”

Everley cocked her head and looked at Rachel curiously. “Why do you say that like it's a bad thing?”

“I don't want him to like me because you or Catch wishes he would.” She wasn't sure she wanted him to like her in that way at all.

“I don't think it works like that. Plus, boy's got the googly eyes over you in that dress.” Everley nodded to where Ashe and Jamie stood in the middle of the crowd watching them. “Can't say I blame him. You look fantastic. Just like I knew you would.”

“Thanks,” Rachel said, resisting the urge to tug the low neckline up again.

“In case you're curious, he looks damn good under those clothes.”

“I'm not.” Once Everley's admission sank in, Rachel whipped her head around to stare at her friend. “Wait, how do you know that?”

“He used to spend the night when Lola and I lived together in college. I walked in on him in the shower a few times. The first time was an accident.”

“You're bad,” Rachel said, laughing. “And the others?”

“Like I said, he looks good naked.” Grinning at Rachel, Everley gave her a gentle nudge. “Go get him, girlie. I'm betting he'd have you out of that dress in five minutes if given half the chance.”

Rachel thought of Catch's wish and felt guilty for wanting it to come true. For wanting what Everley pushed her to do. “This damn thing is suctioned on. I don't think anyone's gonna get me out of it without a good pair of pliers.”

When Everley burst out laughing and sagged into her side, Rachel gripped her hand to keep her from toppling over. Her heels sank into the soft ground from the weight.

“Oh. My. God,” Everley managed between breaths. “I just had the best image of the two of you trying out a whole set of his tools.” She fanned herself with her free hand.

“Ladies,” Ashe said as he and Jamie walked over to them. His smile was quick, charming. The sleeves of his linen shirt were rolled up, exposing pale hairs on his forearms that stood out on his tanned skin.

Rachel looked away, suddenly longing for her shorts and tee.

Why the hell am I nervous?
It was just Ashe. Just Ashe looking at her in a dress she had no business wearing. Back home she did everything she could to blend in—jeans and T-shirts, hair pulled into a simple ponytail, thin application of black eyeliner and mascara. Even Mary Beth had a hard time getting her in anything else. But a month around Everley and she was walking around in a dress and heels.

Everley wrapped her arm around Jamie and playfully kissed his neck. “Hi, cutie,” she said, wiping the smear of lipstick from Jamie's dark skin.

“Sounds like I missed something good,” Ashe said. He stood close enough to touch Rachel, and the memory of Catch's wish had her stomach twisting in knots when his eyes slid over her dress.