Confessions from the Quilting Circle - Maisey Yates Page 0,21

record of the way her body had looked when she’d been twenty-one, and didn’t have a stretch mark in sight.

And then, even after she’d had Emma, and he’d still found her beautiful, and had wanted photos of her lying on the bed wearing nothing but her underwear.

She wished that she had pictures like that of him.

He’d been the photographer, and he was always behind the camera. He’d given her this gift. This moment to let her see herself the way he had. How he found her beautiful through the years. A gift he left for her, that she hadn’t even appreciated at the time.

“I just miss you,” she said. “You used to joke about sending me dirty pictures and you never did. And I really wish you would have.”

He had been so handsome when they’d been younger. And she found his body beautiful. Even as sickness had eaten away at him, she found him beautiful, because he was the man she loved. But she had definitely mourned the loss of some of his looks. She just wished that...

She wished that there was more time.

She shoved the photos back into the envelope, back into the drawer. And she took the bag of medication and carried it downstairs and dumped it in the trash.

By the time she was finished she was hungry.

That was significant because for the past two weeks she hadn’t felt a single hunger pang. Only the appearance of food in front of her had reminded her to eat at all. And even then, she had struggled to get much down. Everything had sat like lead in her gut and had made her feel like throwing up. But she actually felt hungry today.

She got into her car and decided to brave the drive down the mountain and into town. She hadn’t been since church last week.

As overwhelming as the idea of town had been when the only thing to talk about was her loss, the idea of having to make excuses for Anna, explain Anna or hear bad things about Anna along with it was unbearable.

Rachel had too much of her own pain washing through her to give Anna’s the attention that it needed. She would get to it.

Maybe after she ate.

Somehow that felt like hope, that desire for food. It felt like waking up.

She turned off the main road and onto a small offshoot that would take her down into Old Town. J’s Diner wasn’t particularly touristy, like a great many of the places down there, and hadn’t been made into something farm-to-table and hipster.

The idea of Adam putting kombucha on the menu was laughable. And that was why it remained popular with the locals.

It was real food.

And as someone who liked fussy food herself, Rachel didn’t feel all that guilty thinking that. She made a great many things with a poached egg on top for the bed-and-breakfast. But sometimes all that would do was greasy, fortifying food. And in that case, J’s delivered.

And for Rachel it had become something of a refuge to her over these past couple of years. Like a break from life that included French fries, and who didn’t need one of those now and again?

The side streets in Old Town were all steep hills, and J’s was at the top of one. The parking lot was full, so she pulled her car up against the curb, praying the parking brake did its best work. Then she got out and wrapped her coat more firmly around herself, trying to buffet herself against the wind. The clouds had rolled in, thick and gray this afternoon, and what had started out as a sunny morning up at Cape Hope had turned into a mess of gray soup. But that was part and parcel of living here, and there was something about it that Rachel had always loved.

Because along with weather like this came the urge to curl up with a blanket, a cup of tea and a book. The need to light a scented candle, and simply sit for a while. To pause and reflect.

Of course, she didn’t really want to pause and reflect at the moment. But then, maybe that was why, rather than sitting at home with hot soup and a blanket, she’d driven down to J’s. She pushed open the worn white door, letting it swing closed hard behind her.

The tables were full, and the bar was mostly full as well, but there were two empty stools—the ones that no one sat on because