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Maye stepped out of Rousseau’s Candies and walked the few steps next door to Laura’s Little Book Store on Main. She stopped to admire the window display where Laura had created a forest by stacking books in the shape of Christmas trees.

“Finally!” Laura shouted as soon as Maye crossed the threshold of her front door.

“Laura, it hasn’t even been two minutes!” Maye said as she approached the counter where Laura waited with a stack of books. “So I assume you’ve heard that I ran into a couple of your Lunch Lady friends at Tay’s?”

“Oh yeah,” Laura said. “So I won’t unearth everything with you again. Just know that we got your back, Maye.”

“Thanks, Laura. It really means a lot—”

“Actually,” Laura cut her off. “I do have a book club starting soon so I have to make this quick. I’ve pulled together a few books that I think could be helpful during this difficult time.”

“Aw, thanks, Laura,” Maye lifted the first book to read the cover. Dealing with Grief: 10 Coping Techniques. Maye looked at Laura. “You know I’m a clinical psychologist, right?”

“That’s for show,” Laura waved her off and offered a sly wink. “Keep looking,”

Maye picked up the next book: The Perfect Crime. And the next book: Getting Started with Muay Thai at Home. And the next book: 7-Minute Biceps. Maye picked up the last book and shook her head, confused: Simple 30-Minute Meals.

“You eat takeout a lot, dear.” Laura said.

Maye dropped her jaw as if she were offended.

“Fine,” Laura said, taking back the book. “I tried.”

“Just for that,” Maye said, “I’m going to Rex’s for food.”

Maye continued her trek down Main Street, which was very much giving Candy Cane Lane vibes as if it were the cold holiday season months. The only thing missing was the snowbanks intruding on the sidewalks and parking spaces. Streetlights were tastefully decorated, albeit with red and white bows instead of being wrapped from stem to stern with ribbon like candy canes, and holiday music pumped through the speakers that were sprinkled along the downtown sidewalks.

The window panes at Rex’s Grocery had been decoratively painted to give them a frosted appearance, but inside was warm and smelled like sauteed onions. Maye perused a couple of aisles, looking at exotic popcorn flavors and various levels of extreme sour candies before choosing a ready-to-go home-style meatloaf with mashed potatoes and gravy. Sure, it was about 87-degrees outside, but comfort food was calling her name.

“Just the one, Maye?” Rex said as she stepped up to the register. He avoided eye contact.

“Quite a poker face you got there, Rex,” Maye said. “It’s okay, I know you know. Everyone seems to know.”

Rex’s shoulders lowered as he exhaled. “I don’t usually get wrapped up in the gossip around town, but this one was hard to avoid. Sandra came over and told me all about it.”

“Ah, Sandra,” Maye nodded. “I thought she might have something to do with this.”

“They don’t call her the First Lady for nothin’,” Rex said as he carefully stacked her books, meatloaf, and then box of candies in one easy to manage bag.

“Thanks, Rex,” Maye said. “I think I’ll be having a word with the leader of the Lunch Ladies.”

Maye stomped down the sidewalk with gusto in her step. This time she was on a mission to give Sandra a piece of her mind. She wasn’t surprised that people knew about the livestream. It was live on the internet, after all. How the news of her breakup spread so fast was the part that Maye was stuck on. As far as she knew, it was only her and Randall in the condo when it all happened. And she had only talked to Tracy—Tracy. Her closest confidant and favorite cousin. Of course, Tracy let it slip. Not only was she terrible with secrets, she was probably worried about Maye. A lethal combination for any private matter. This information would not spread like wildfire because of Tracy alone, though. Someone with tight connections and relationships must have been involved. Someone like the lead Lunch Lady, Sandra. Outside Sandra’s wine store, Pour It Up, Maye took a minute to admire the window display. Lights twinkled and tinsel shimmered over a tower of wine glasses, creating the illusion that the glasses were being filled with a shiny, bubbly beverage.

Maye stepped inside and walked right up to the counter where she found Sandra talking on the phone. Sandra flashed a welcoming smile, followed by a single index finger signaling for Maye to please wait one second. So Maye waited, and she waited, and she waited. She waited as Sandra laughed, and as Sandra gave Maye the “blah, blah, blah” gesture with her hand, and as Sandra huddled as far away from Maye’s earshot as she could and blew air kisses into the phone followed by an exchange of “No, I love you more”s and “No, you hang up first”s. Finally, Sandra made her way back in front of Maye.

“Sorry,” Sandra said. “That was my parole officer.”

“That’s ok—what??” Maye blurted out as she realized what Sandra said.

“Just kidding, dear,” Sandra waved her off. “I heard you were making the rounds around town. What brings you in?”

By now, the fiery rage inside Maye had fizzled a bit. It was difficult for her to stay upset with someone for too long, especially Sandra.

And then, right on cue, Sandra lifted a gift bag from behind the counter. “Maye, I have something for you. A little something to replenish your stash,” Sandra winked.

Maye peeked inside at the light pink bottle and then instinctively reacted with disapproval, tilting her head and pursing her lips.

“What?” Sandra threw up her hands. “It’s your favorite prosecco. Look, I’ve been through a number of break-ups and plenty of public scenes, nothing viral like you, of course, but they all involved a little bubbly. Maybe it’s just me, but having a little extra on hand is never a bad idea.”