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“What’s going on?”
“Laura’s pregnant!” Pam cried.
“Oh, man! Our babies might be friends, you know,” Sandra called out.
“Stranger things have happened,” Laura said, grinning at Sandra. “I can’t wait to tell Will about this response. It’s his first, too.”
“Wow, that’s wonderful.”
“I never had children, as you might have guessed,” Sister Mary said. “Now I’ll never have grandchildren. One of life’s great regrets.”
“You can be this baby’s grandmother,” Sandra said, patting her belly. “My parents are dead, and so are Andy’s. Pam is the only grandparent Brent has, and this baby has no one.”
“We’ll all be your baby’s family,” Laura said, thinkingwhether we like its mother or not. “Everyone on Sea View will be family.”
“You know what I said about not being up to having Thanksgiving?” Pam said. “Forget I said that. Everyone, come to my house for dinner.”
“Are you sure?” Mary asked.
“Seriously?” Sandra said. “I was just thinking Kentucky Fried Chicken might be a better option than me unintentionally incinerating this bird.”
Laughing, the women had a rare moment of camaraderie before parting. Everyone agreed dinner at Pam’s was the best option for the neighborhood and they’d all pitch in so the cooking wouldn’t fall on Pam’s shoulders alone. They checked out and waved goodbye in the parking lot, all but Mary headed for Sea View.
Back inside the store, Mary returned to the deli. An hour later, a new wave of familiar faces came in to shop. The first was Hocus with a foot-long grocery list, now that they were hosting dinner. With methodical precision, she marched up and down the aisles, placing items neatly in the shopping cart. About a quarter way down the canned goods aisle, in front of the cranberry sauce display, she nearly ran into Shelly Markham.
“Shelly!”
“Hocus! I was just thinking about how I could see you again without going into that godforsaken coffee shop. Who’s baking there now, anyway?”
“I think Adam Marchand is doing his own baking, and it’s an improvement, if I dare say so. How are you? Boy, you were hit with a doozy.”
Hocus had foreseen problems for Shelly but had withheld her thoughts. Now she wondered if that had been a mistake. Judging by the aura she saw pulsating around Shelly right now, Shelly was in big trouble herself.
“Come over here,” Hocus hissed, pushing her cart to the end of the aisle. “I want to look at your palm.”
Shelly pushed her cart to the wall. “I felt like you were holding back the last time I saw you.”
“It was because I couldn’t be certain, but when you told me you were seeing Alan, I had a feeling it wasn’t going to end well.”
“Read it, please,” Shelly said, sticking her hand out practically under Hocus’s nose.
She grabbed the hand and brought it down to examine. “Oh, Shelly,” she said, shaking her head and clicking her tongue.
“Oh, God!” Lowering her head, Shelly began to cry. “What can I do?”
Hocus gaped at her with contempt. “You only have two choices, don’t you? You can let Alan take the blame or you can confess.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“I think you do, Shelly, and I doubt you’ll confess, so get your story straight and don’t diverge from it.”
Jerking her hand away from Hocus’s grasp, Shelly stared into her eyes. “You’re the real deal, aren’t you?” she whispered, looking scared to death.
“I am. But most people don’t believe, so I’ll never be used as a witness.”
“Laura lied to me. She wore a wire, and I told her some things I had formerly denied.”
“Laura is a private investigator, Shelly.”
