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“What’s up, Aunt Livi?” I press the phone to my ear and turn my back to my sister.
“Hello, poodle. Just checking in to see how the heart is healing today.”
I swallow the lump that has suddenly appeared in my throat at the reminder that my love life is in shambles. “I’m attempting to cope with sugar, but it’s not working so well.”
There’s a soft tinkle of wind chimes in the background on her end of the line. I know the sound well enough to tell that my aunt is in her bookshop and has either opened her front door or has her first customer of the day.
“Well, I called to tell you I have the perfect answer to all of your heart troubles. Why don’t you come by for a visit tonight?”
I brace for her new age brand of weird. I’ve been the recipient of one too many of her healing tonics and cleansing teas not to have developed a healthy skepticism.
“Swing by around seven?” she asks.
“I’m supposed to hang out with Dax tonight.”
“Perfect, the more the merrier. Bring your sister too.”
I cover the microphone with my palm and turn back to face Kierst. “What are you up to tonight?”
She shrugs. “WatchingThe Bachelorso I can tell you who got kicked off, since you’re a weirdo.”
It’s true. I can’t watch that show without knowing who gets a rose. One of my many endearing quirks.
“Come to Aunt Livi’s after the kiddos are in bed. She’s gonna cure me.”
She doesn’t agree but instead opens her doughnut box for the third time, then snaps it shut and clutches her stomach. “Fine. I’ll come. But if she suggests naked chanting again, I’m leaving.”
I wave her off and return my attention to my aunt. “Need me to pick up anything?”
There is a short pause before she speaks. “Actually, yes. If youget a chance. We will need coarse salt, two Scotch bonnet peppers, and four triple-A batteries.”
“Sounds good,” I say, unsure how afraid I should be of this evening’s plans.
I hang up the phone and realize that we are walking not back to my condo but to Kiersten’s white minivan parked on a side street. She clicks her key fob, and the back door automatically slides open. She tosses her doughnut box onto a Cheerio-covered car seat and then reaches for the passenger door.
“Want a ride home?”
I shake my head. “I’m gonna walk. I won’t get a Peloton workout in before Aunt Livi’s. I have a six o’clock with some company in Shanghai that wants me to buy their revolutionary new dandruff shampoo. I’m dreading it already.”
“Anytime you want to trade jobs, say the word. Although I recommend you sit through one of Riley’s softball games first. Or a PTA meeting. Or what feels like monthly dentist appointments, as all three of my children seem to have inherited Trent’s weak teeth. But today is not about my clusterfuck.” She holds out her arms, and I let her envelop me in one last hug. She squeezes me tightly before pulling back and cupping my face with her hands.
“I’m glad you’re coming tonight,” I tell her. “I think a night with you, Aunt Livi, and Dax is exactly what I need.”
She walks around to the driver’s side, climbs in, and, as she’s fastening her seatbelt, hits the button to roll down the passenger window. “You know what they say, Gems, breakups are hard.” She winks. “But you know what else is hard?”
I shake my head.
“Dax’s dick.”
With that, she pulls out into the road. I can hear her laughing all the way to the four-way stop.
Chapter 2
Margaritas are notmeant for Monday nights.
There’s a reason why that old country song is famous. Tequila does indeed have the tendency to make your clothes fall off, or your lips say things they shouldn’t, or, in my case, a combo of the two.
But I considered myself lucky that Aunt Livi’s perfect cure for my aching heart turned out to be just her infamous margarita mix. Well, maybe I won’t be so lucky tomorrow when I face the almost inevitable hangover that will hit me in the morning, but it could have been a lot worse. The peppers and salt were for the pot of chili she plans on serving for her Tuesday night book club. I have yet to learn the purpose of the batteries. And frankly, I’m too afraid of the answer to ask.
