Chapter 10
Idon’t know what I’d expected, but this trendy shopping center was an absolute marvel.
The Mighty Oak, a massive tree with branches so thick and spread so wide it was a wonder it could hold itself up, acted as a centerpiece for the square.
I wandered closer, nodding at the frazzle-haired woman murmuring to herself at its base.
But the nearer I got to the tree, the more I understood it was not a normal tree. Thirty years ago, this area was nothing more than a dirt-filled make-out spot, so I’d never had a reason to visit. But now, I could sense the vibrations that shot down from every leaf and rumbled through the roots.
“This is the heart of all of our magic.” I clasped my hand over my mouth, shocked to find I’d uttered the words aloud. The massive branches rustled their approval.
“Darn tootin’ she is.” The woman, in her sixties but with an air of youth to her that made me feel younger just being in her presence, giggled. She resumed her whispering, and it was then I realized she was talking to the tree, not herself.
Only a week ago, I might have questioned that. But now everything was different, whether I wanted it to be or not. Now, I found myself wondering what it was saying back to her.
Bistro tables and park benches surrounded the tree, and they were packed despite the heat. The shops themselves were four different buildings, each with two floors. I read the signs for each building, smiling at how unique and yet simultaneously homogenous it all was.
An apothecary displayed rows of bottles and soaps, the comforting aroma of which mingled in the air around me.
An art store boasted beautiful canvases and supplies.
I wasn’t much of an artist, but it gave the impression that anyone who stepped foot in there could find their inner Rembrandt.
A sign in the glass-enclosed display window announced a new craft store coming soon upstairs.
I wasn’t very crafty, either.
At the far back was a gardening center with vibrant pots and leafy plants that I’d surely kill if I brought them home. Peeking out from the forest at the back was a wooden bridge, sparking a memory. What was across that bridge?
I considered exploring further, but the coffee shop to my right drew my attention. A crisp and welcoming breeze pushed my back, and I ventured forward. Inside, Brianne nursed a thick mug, eyeing it like a long-lost lover.
I hesitated, unsure if I should interrupt her moment of passion, when her eyes lifted and bore into mine.
“Hey, girl! Come on over and join me.”
“I should order first.”
“No need. Ms. Ana will be along, and she likely already knows what you want.”
I took the seat she motioned to with a grateful smile. There was no menu on the table, but as I turned to read the board behind the cashier stand, a familiar figure approached me.
“Hey, Ms. Ana.” I did that awkward thing where I didn't know whether to hug or shake her hand. I rose halfway, only partially surprised to find she already had a drink and was reaching it out to me. “It’s so lovely to see you again.”
I didn’t ask if she remembered me. It was clear from her expression that she did. And I’d already given up on questioning it.
“Simone Bardot, my goodness you’ve aged gracefully!” She closed the gap between us, setting the drink on the table and pulling me into a motherly embrace.
I held on longer than I’d intended. It had been a long time since I felt comforted this way. It shook up all the tumultuous pieces inside me, waking up a longing for affection and support that I’d buried deep when Jeff fell ill.
No, a tiny voice whispered inside me, I’d buried it long before that. Granted, we’d never been incredibly passionate. But when did my comfortable marriage with Jeff become two roommates who happened to share the same bed?
Whether I wanted to believe it or not, that happened long before his affair.
“Welcome home, dear.” Ana’s smile was patient and warm, as if she knew a single hug had sent me into turmoil. “I expect you’re settling in at the Magnolia?”
“Trying to.” I attempted a shrug, but my lips trembled.
As a kid, when I wasn’t working out or hanging with my mom at the office, I was at the public library.
Ana might have been the coolest librarian ever.
She had a matronly air, but everything about her was as vibrant and youthful as the town itself.
Like things aged here without getting old.
“Aww, hon, give yourself time. It’s a lot to take in.
” I didn’t question how she knew what I was going through.
I knew enough about small towns to know that one person’s business was everyone’s business.
When Agatha died, I’m sure the rumor mill went crazy trying to find out who took control of the Magnolia.
“You know, when everything around you feels uncertain, the best thing you can do is find an anchor.”
“An anchor?” I let her guide me back to my seat next to Brianne.
“Yes, dear. Something to root you in place. To help you feel secure and less adrift. You know, like a good friend.” She gave Brianne a quick side embrace and me a final warm smile. “Enjoy your day, you two.”
“Well, that was subtle.” I chuckled along with Brianne, taking a sip of my drink. Then, my world stopped. Tiny squeals of delight danced through my taste buds. I was floating on a caffeinated cloud of happiness. “Oh. My. God.”
The moan that escaped me was straight up erotic. Brianne’s head tilted back, and she laughed like she hadn’t in years.
“Oh my.” She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “I forgot how everyone responds to their first drink here.”
“What is it?” I was a little lightheaded.
“It’s different for everybody.” Brianne tipped her own mug so I could see the caramel-colored liquid inside, different from the dark frothy drink that had washed all the bitterness from my mouth. “Ms. Ana has a knack for knowing what people need.”
“I dimly recall it being the same when she was a librarian. Good to see she still knows books.” The coffee shop was divided in two.
On the far side were rows of weathered bookshelves and inviting recliners, a few of which were occupied by people lost in their own worlds.
“Maybe that’s her magic. I wonder what she is. ”
I glanced back at Brianne, who was gazing at me as if trying to solve a puzzle, making me wonder what I’d said. Was that offensive, to ask what kind of magical creature someone was? I didn’t know the rules. Besides, wasn’t Brianne mundane? God, I hated that term.
My throat tightened, and I fought to find something to say to correct the situation.
Brianne was the most welcoming person I’d found here, and we were starting to become friends.
I didn’t want to screw it up by shoving my foot in my mouth.
Ana was right. I needed an anchor. Finally, I settled on being honest.
“I’m sorry if I offended you. I’m learning to adapt in a new world here.” I took another sip of my drink, but it didn’t have the giddy effect from earlier. With just a few words, I’d managed to make myself feel small and out of place. Again.
“Would you like to come to my house for dinner Friday evening?” Brianne smiled at me and patted my arm. It was a domestic and welcoming response. Man, she was good.
I agreed to go, and we chatted about normal things while we finished our drinks. But the feeling that I was handling all this wrong stayed with me. I knew I’d be up all night, questioning every turn of phrase I’d used.
It was like I couldn’t relax into a single moment, even a benign one, without my inner voice nagging at me. What was wrong with having a friendly coffee with someone I liked and respected? And why did I feel like, if I didn’t do and say everything completely perfectly, I was failing at life?
If I were one of my patients, I’d issue a diagnosis and begin treatment. I’ve never been particularly good at treating myself. Even when, logically, I could see where my thoughts differed from reality, the ability to gain control of myself seemed to elude me.
“I want to turn it all around so badly.” The words were a blurt I hadn’t expected, interrupting Brianne’s idle chatter about a bed and breakfast on Bridge Island, whatever that was. “Sorry,” I said when she once more tilted her head to inspect me. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You can, you know. Turn it all around, not interrupt me. You just have to find your voice.” Brianne stood to leave, and I rose with her, taking our cups to the nearby cleanup counter and waving goodbye to Ana. “Good thing you don’t have to do it alone.”
“I’m sorry I’m so awkward.” I walked Brianne to the edge of Illusion Square and hugged her goodbye.
“Sweet Simone, you’re so hard on yourself. Stop all that negative self-talk!” She squeezed me tight, then released me, holding onto both of my hands. “Ana is right, you need an anchor. Guess it’s gonna be me.”
Crap, there were the tears again. I’d been so starved for support and friendship. Now it was being offered to me in abundance, and I was struggling to accept it.
“You want some advice?” Brianne dropped my hands and fished for a tissue from her purse.
“Sure,” I answered. “Hit me with it.”
“I know you’re struggling to believe this, but Agatha chose you because she knew you were capable. So dig deep, friend, and find a place to start chipping away at that massive wall of self-doubt you’ve built.”
After another quick hug, Brianne strolled off, and I turned to take another look at the Mighty Oak. It was a beautiful tree, but it was no ordinary tree. I was positive there was magic in it, all the way down to its roots. Maybe beyond.
I didn’t know my roots, not really. My father was never around, and my mother never talked about him. She’d been isolated from her family. Still, we’d been a close-knit duo, and with Agatha’s support, we’d had a happy life.
I’d been happy here once. I had a second chance to be happy here again.
The question was, how did I start? The tree shook its tallest branch, making me feel smaller than ever.
But it didn’t feel like it was judging me.
I trotted over to the base. The older woman from earlier had gone, and I was able to see the concrete pool that surrounded its roots.
A compass rose was etched into the center.
The water rippled, and a shadow off one of the branches pointed behind me, in the direction of the Magnolia.
“I get it,” I said to the tree. Now I was the crazy one talking to trees. “It all starts there.”
As I headed back to the Magnolia, I wondered what I would find there to help me. Gumbo was asleep in the window when I opened the door. He opened one annoyed eye then resumed his nap.
I headed into the living room, contemplating my own nap on that pretty, red couch. But several boxes of files rested on the table in front of it. I skimmed the first one, and a spark of hope cut through my tiny critical voice.
Once upon a time, I’d been a really good therapist. Before my practice had died, before I’d given up and gone on autopilot, before my husband’s sudden and terrifying illness. I reminded myself of that as I reviewed the files Agatha left me.
This was where I’d find the confidence I lacked. One client at a time. Propping my feet up, I leaned back and dove in.