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Alice lifted a hand like a stop sign. “We don’t talk about that. Ever.”
Her warning glare caused us all to chuckle.
Ignoring the stare-off between Alice and Marge, I said, “That’s the beautiful thing about couples. You can each decide what works for you. For Tom and me? Open door peeing.”
“Roxie and I too.” Marge shrugged, then flopped back into the chaise lounge. “Intimacy is awesome.”
“You know,” Alice said, sliding her sunglasses back up and leaning back. “It is. I can’t tell you how much less stressful life is now that I don’t have to hide every little imperfection from Alejandro. Not to mention how relaxed I am not dancing every night anymore. It was amazing while it lasted, but this?” She waved an arm around the extravagant pool area in her backyard. “This is more my style at seventy-six.”
“Seventy-seven,” Marge corrected. “You had a birthday last month.”
“Seventy-six was a good year to me. I think I’m just gonna stay there.”
I laughed and poured a margarita refill into my glass. “It was a good year. A really good year.”
I laid back and thought about everything that had transpired since Tom and I tied the knot exactly one year ago.
We’d all moved home to Wilder Lane and picked up just like we’d never missed a beat. But instead of just sitting around knitting, we’d used our free time to start our company and create our new shoe line. It had been a lot more work than we’d prepared for, but we’d loved every minute of the new challenges starting a shoe company threw at us. It had taken eight months to have enough shoe designs and styles we’d felt comfortable starting to market them, so we’d decided to try and start small.
Triedbeing the operative word.
After Alice had gone on social media high-kicking in sexy orthopedic dance shoes, several high-profile bloggers, vloggers, and influencers caught wind of our mission to give women comfort and fashion. With so much media attention, our company blew up. In less than a week, we received more orders than we’d be able to make in a year with our modest company, so we’d had to scramble to find a production company to meet the demand. Luckily, Alice had connections with some fashion designers, and last month, we finalized our contract to produce millions of shoes each year.
As a marketer, it had been a dream come true to see our little baby idea blossom into a powerful hitter in the shoe world. It turned out we weren’t the only women who didn’t want to give up their style after their bodies started slowing down. Thousands of women sang our praises as they walked, marched, and danced their way off in our flashy, sexy orthopedic shoes, and tens of thousands more had preordered for their turn to strut in comfort when our shoes got mass-produced.
“Look. Madeline just sent me a picture of Clover.” Doris held up her phone, showing us the picture of the little black calf she fawned over every day. “He looks like El Diablo, doesn’t he?”
She poked the screen and gave it a kiss.
“Do you miss the ranch?”
“I miss El Diablo and Clover. That’s for sure.” She poked the photo on her phone again. “But no. Axel and I had a wonderful summer there, but we were both exhausted and ready for another winter on Wilder Lane.”
“I’m so glad he loved it here,” I said. “I was worried he might miss the ranch too much, and you’d have to move back.”
Doris chuckled. “Axel says he’s happy anywhere as long as I keep the blueberry muffins coming.”
Alice arched an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling hooties these days?”
“Alice!” Doris swatted her, then flushed a shade of red deeper than Alice’s painted toenails.
Alice just chuckled, and Marge whispered, “Good one.”
“So,anyway,”Doris went on. “No. He was really happy here. We’ll always do summers on the ranch; we both love it there. And having you ladies visit really helped me not feel so left out.”
“We love visiting the ranch.” I popped a grape in my mouth and bit down. “Tom would live there year-round if I let him.”
“My wife, too,” Marge agreed. “Not me, but I liked visiting and riding Cochise again, that grumpy son of a gun.”
“Roxie is still happy here?” I asked, glancing over at Roxie as she laughed when she missed a shot. The two of them had held a small ceremony in the backyard three months ago, and Marge couldn’t stop saying ‘my wife’ whenever she got the chance. She was so over the moon happy that she’d found her one true love, but she always kept Percy’s dog tags dangling around her neck, a reminder of the best friend she’d spent a lifetime with and would always miss.
“So happy.” Marge smiled. “Who knew she was ready to leave the glitz and glamor of Las Vegas behind? Now, she’s a stay-at-home wife, and I love getting to spoil her rotten with all the dough we’re making selling shoes.”
“I’ve been feeling terribly guilty about it,” Doris admitted. “I keep putting extra in the basket when they pass it around at church. And we’ve donated a lot to other churches and causes in need.”
“That’s so nice, Doris.” I smiled. “We’re planning on supporting some great charities, too, but I do hope you treat yourself to a little something. You have been working so hard baking away and keeping us fed.”
“Oh, I did.” She leaned forward and whispered. “I bought Axel a pair of very expensive cowboy boots, and I splurged on a La Cornue oven. It cost almost as much as my house when we first bought it fifty years ago. But let me tell you, ladies, it was worth every penny. My muffins have never tasted so good.”
