Page 33 of Between the Lines

Cece listened to the final thirty seconds one more time, finger resting lightly on the trackpad. Her own voice faded out, Joe’s music rising underneath it. She let it play through to silence, then closed the laptop.

That was it.

She sat there for a moment longer, hands folded, resisting the urge to reopen it and change something small just to be changing it. She’d done that twice this morning. At some point, you had to let a thing be what it was.

A knock sounded at the front door, Joe’s familiar three-beat rhythm.

Cece smiled and went to let him in.

He stood on the porch holding a bakery box in one hand and a Publix bag of grapes and strawberries in the other, sunglasses perched on top of his head. “Breakfast has arrived.”

“So I see.” She took both. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I wanted to,” he said as he followed her into the kitchen. “I bought quiche and fruit. A much more balanced offering than the coffee cake and ice cream I was considering.”

She laughed. “You were not.” He ate much better than that. “What kind of quiche is it?”

“Spinach and feta, which I think you said was one of your favorites.”

“It is. I’m impressed you remembered.” She set the box on the counter.

“I do my best.”

His best was pretty good. Cece turned on the oven and slid the quiche inside to warm while Joe washed the fruit at the sink, at home in her kitchen. She poured coffee for both of them, added a splash of creamer and a little sweetener, then carried the mugs out to the porch.

Joe joined her and they sat side by side, the morning light still soft. A gentle breeze moved through the palms, carrying the scent of fresh-cut grass. Somewhere nearby, a screen door clanked shut.

“So,” Joe said, lifting his mug. “Did you finish the first episode?”

“I did,” she said. “At least, I’m done fooling with it. Which is probably the same thing.”

He smiled. “At a point, you just have to decide you’re done. I think songwriting is sort of the same way.”

They drank their coffee, going quiet for a moment.

“There’s something new going on,” Cece said, because she was interested in his take. “With the Queen Bees, I mean.”

“Oh?” Joe turned slightly toward her, listening.

“A new resident. Darcy Lane. She had an uncomfortable run-in with Paige at the fitness center, even implied she knows something personal about Paige’s past. Maude’s been looking into her online. So have I, a little. Not much there so far.” Cece paused. “Then her name showed up on the new resident list I got for The Buzz.”

Joe’s brow furrowed. “And?”

“I reached out to her for an interview,” Cece said. “Haven’t heard back yet. But if she agrees, I’ll have a chance to talk to her. See what she’s about.”

Joe considered that. “You think she will?”

“I do,” Cece said. “People who think they’re important, which is how she comes off, usually say yes. Anything to talk about themselves.”

“And you’re thinking you might get some questions answered. More than just the standard interview kind.”

“Exactly.”

The oven timer went off. Cece stood. “Let’s eat.”

They went back in and fixed up plates, then brought the quiche and fruit out to the porch to sit, plates balanced on their knees. Joe took a bite and nodded, satisfied.

“This is good,” he said.