Page 31 of Lemon Pound Cake Club

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. I gave her a small smile.

"Me too."

She didn’t ask what was wrong. She didn’t ask if I’d lost a patient or if someone I cared about had come through those automatic doors. She just reached over and squeezed my hand.

"I'm glad you're here."

I looked around my office.

"So am I."

"So, what do you do now?" Simone asked.

"I'm taking some time for myself."

She smiled.

"I love that."

"I don't know what comes next."

"You don't have to."

She leaned against the wall.

"Everybody who moves here comes looking for something, a slower life, a fresh start, a better place to raise kids, hell, a place to breathe."

She looked around my office.

"Maybe that's what this neighborhood gives people."

A fresh start. I thought about those words long after she said them. She didn’t know what was really happening. I hadn’t come here to start over. Luckily, she took my silence as me just being lost in thought.

"I have an idea," she said, suddenly brightening.

"Oh?"

"The girls and I usually walk in the neighborhood in the evenings. I know Nia mentioned it earlier in the chat. It's less about exercise and more about gossip."

"I figured."

"You should come."

"I'd like that."

"Perfect."

She stood up and smoothed her jeans, as if brushing away wrinkles I couldn’t see.

"I'll text the group."

Before she reached the front door, my phone chimed.

Lemon Ladies

Simone: Officially stealing Maci for girls' walk tonight at 6:30. Comfortable shoes required. Gossip optional.

Almost instantly