Cady undid the dead bolt and crouched down to remove the rubber stopper she always shoved under the door. It made her feel secure.
“Here,” Olivia said as soon as the door was open, holding out a commuter mug and pushing past Cady into the store. “It’s French roast, your favorite. You’re welcome.”
“I was sleeping.”
“No you weren’t,” Olivia said, raising one eyebrow as she looked over the jumble of inventory. “And you obviously haven’t been spending a lot of time cleaning.”
“Not my strong suit.”
“So, have you been working?”
“A little.”
Olivia led the way into the back room, where they sat down at the little table by the kitchenette. Belatedly, Cady realized there was plentiful evidence of her recent dissolute lifestyle: crumpled Cheetos bags and cookie packages, old Chinese food take-out boxes, an empty vodka bottle.
“Liar,” said Olivia, taking in the scene. “What have youreallybeen doing?”
“Crying.” Cady collapsed onto the sofa.
“But that’s good, right?” Olivia said, sympathy shining in her big chocolate-colored eyes. “You never used to cry. I count that as personal growth.”
Cady let out a humorless bark. “Only you could see crying as a positive.”
“So, I was thinking,” Olivia said, fiddling with her coffee mug, which boasted the garish orange-and-black logo of the San Francisco baseball team. “There are a lot of merry-go-rounds in Paris. Loads of them. I remember from when Sebastian and I went there on our honeymoon. A carousel in every public square, it seemed like.”
“And?”
“You love photographing carousels. Have you ever thought of doing abookof photographs?”
“Of Parisian carousels?”
“Yes! Why have we been studying French all these years if you’re not going to put the language to good use? And you never know what you might find. The food, the wine, the cobblestone streets...” She let out a sigh.“C’est magique!”
Cady managed a small smile. “You think everything is magical.”
“And you thinknothingis. But you’re wrong.” Olivia took another sip and let out a long, contented sigh. She had a way of savoring her coffee as though it were the elixir of life, the cure for maladies, the font of all contentment. And perhaps it was: Olivia was the sunniest person Cady had ever known. Before she met Olivia, Cady had believed sustained happiness was the stuff of fiction, found only in fairy tales.
“When did you become a San Francisco Giants fan?” Cady asked in a blatant bid to change the subject.
Olivia laughed, holding her mug out and inspecting the logo as though she’d never seen it before. “I have no idea where this came from. It just appeared, as things are wont to do around my house. But I like the way it feels in my hands.”
Random items “appeared” at Olivia’s place because people were forever passing through for dinners and parties, spending the night orstaying for weeks at a time on the couch, leaving behind towels, a hairbrush, a coffee mug. But Olivia took the ever-shifting landscape of her home in stride, as though things appeared and disappeared by some enchanting sort of magic.
That would drive me crazy,Cady thought. She liked things organized, predictable. Even in the apparent muddle of Maxine’s shop, Cady knew where each and every item was.
“Anyway, stop trying to change the subject, because I’m not falling for it,” Olivia said as she set the mug down. “Maybe a change of scenery is exactly what you need. And you’ve photographed our local carousels enough.”
“You’re forgetting our road trip to see the world’s largest carousel at House on the Rock.”
“Not that I have anything against Wisconsin, but I was thinking Paris might be a slightly more dramatic change of scene.”
Cady shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”
“Here’s the thing, Cady: My mother always told me not to offer unsolicited advice. But I’m going to anyway, because I love my mama, but I love you, too, and you haven’t had anyone besides Maxine to give you the advice you need.”
“You do realize,” Cady said, “that you are not required to fix my life. I’m—”
“Excuseme,” interrupted Olivia. “When I was in the hospital, who brought me Thai noodles and Cherry Garcia Ice Cream?”
