CHAPTER SIXTEEN #3
Jordana Pederson was our cashier. She was a regular at the Yoga Yurt, which was where she met Brooke, Justine, Vica, and Chloe.
Now all five women got together regularly for drinks, or grabbed kombucha and a bagel at Booch and Bagels after yoga.
Jordana smiled brightly at Raina. “Merry Christmas, Raina,” she said.
Her red hair—a slightly lighter shade than Raina’s—sported a cute little red and gold bow at the base of her long braid that hung over her shoulder.
Raina gave her a tight smile. “Merry Christmas, Jordana. Did you have a nice one with the kids?”
Jordana started to ring through Raina’s items. “Oh yeah. Georgia and Penelope certainly weren’t ignored by Santa. It wasn’t all me though. Gigi Sunflower spoils those two rotten.”
Raina’s smile was more genuine this time. “Sunflower is such a sweetheart. And I know she absolutely adores your two little girls.”
Jordana rolled her pretty gray eyes. “That’s all well and good, and they adore her too. But do they really need more stuff ? Hell no. I regret the day I taught that old hippy how to shop online. The packages that arrive at our door are endless now.”
I chuckled to myself at the image conjured in my head of one Sunflower Patrick—an Island Elder, Sewing Circle founder, and in her late eighties—adding things to her cart online and hitting, “Buy Now.”
Jordana met my gaze. “It’s as hilarious as I’m sure you’re picturing, Jagger.”
Raina shot me a look just as Jordana finished scanning her items.
“I heard you two were among the many that got stranded on Wayman for a few days during the power outage and storm. Did you find a place to stay?” Jordana handed Raina her receipt, then started immediately scanning my items. I normally bagged my stuff myself, since I was a little more particular about where my eggs and produce got stacked, but Raina hadn’t moved out of the way enough.
So I had to watch Jordana and make sure she didn’t put my loaf of bread under my jars of jalapenos and the bag of apples.
“Yeah, we stayed at the Octopus Point Inn,” I said, wincing a little when she didn’t put my eggs on the bottom of the bag, but rather she stacked them on top of my bananas like a savage.
Jordana’s eyes fixed on Raina. “Both of you?”
It was well known across our small island that Raina and I did not get along. So, of course, Jordana’s brows nearly met her hairline.
Raina nodded, though it seemed like it pained her to do so. “Yeah. Totally a coincidence.”
“And you managed not to kill each other,” Jordana teased, putting a thin plastic bag over my package of ground beef. “Christmas miracle.” She gave me my total, and I tapped my credit card.
Why was Raina still there?
She made a point of letting me know my presence, and quite possibly my sheer existence, was a grave inconvenience to her, not to mention a massive irritation. So why didn’t she leave when she had the chance? She could be in her car and leaving the parking lot by now.
Jordana handed me my receipt. “Glad to have you back on our island, you two. If I don’t see you before then, have a very happy New Year.”
I flashed her a big smile, then tossed a wink in there as well. “You too, Jordana.”
Raina headed toward the doors, her arms bogged down with her bags. I had more bags than she did, but they didn’t seem nearly as heavy. “Here,” I said, coming up behind her and taking two of the heavier-looking bags from the crook of her elbow. “Give me these.”
“I’ve got them,” she said with a growl, though she did let me take them.
“I know you do, but if I can help someone, if I can lighten their load in some way, then I’m going to.” I stepped past her and headed toward the parking lot, knowing she was most definitely glaring at me as she ran down the stairs and skittered across the gravel to catch up with me.
“I don’t need your help. My load was light.”
“Okay,” I said, not giving her back her bags. “Why’d you hang around while Jordana rang me up?” I glanced down at her.
“I—” Her mouth stayed open for a hot minute before she snapped it shut. “I wanted to ask her something.”
“Did you? I didn’t hear you ask her something.” Oh, this was just too much fun. Raina flustered was one of my favorite things to see. The pink in her cheeks, the brightness of her eyes and freckles. Even those deep lines between her brows.
“You distracted me and I forgot,” she replied, shaking her head. “I’ll have to text Jordana when I remember.”
“Sounds good.”
We reached our vehicles, and she used her foot to hands-free open her hatch. I helped her load her bags, then unlocked the cab of my truck and stashed my groceries in the back seat before spinning around to face her again.
“Well, this was fun. We should do it again sometime,” I said, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket and rocking back on my heels, only to be reminded that my boot and sock were sodden.
“I’d rather we didn’t,” she said, though the fury in her eyes wasn’t there.
“How’s the cactus?” I asked. “In the garbage? Or did you viciously murder it, pulling out one spike at a time, pretending it was hair?” I threw on a big, cheeky smile, and wasn’t disappointed when her glare deepened, along with those cute little lines between her brows.
“I would never hurt or throw away a plant, even one from someone I tolerate .”
That made me grin even wider. “Good to hear. Well,” I glanced skyward when a big fat raindrop landed on my nose, “I should get home and put this soggy boot on the boot dryer. Until we meet again, Elsa.” Then, just to ruffle her pretty feathers a bit more, I shot her a wink, and another smile, before opening up the driver’s side door of my truck and sliding in behind the wheel.
Her hands found her hips as she stood at the rear of her SUV and watched me pull away.
Once again, I gave her a super-friendly smile and an enthusiastic wave.
And rather than reward me with those little glare creases between her brows, she actually waved back.
It was a confused wave. Slow, and stilted.
I smiled the whole drive home, unable to decide if I liked her glare creases more than her confused wave, while also trying to figure out when I could see her again before our next book club meeting a month from now.
I wouldn’t be able to go an entire thirty days without seeing those creases, and while strong and prickly, cacti still needed care—even the redheaded kinds.