her expression as predatory as Sylvia’s.
“Let me guess,” Tracy said softly. “Your date, CJ?”
Henrietta wisely took in the situation, then put Tracy’s arm through hers as CJ went to intercept the other woman.
“I know how to fix this.” And before Tracy could stop her, Henrietta proceeded, in great detail, to tell her.
chapter fourteen
“I’m baking pies in my sleep.” Wanda stared up at a cloudless blue sky. A light breeze swept over her sunscreen-slathered skin, and, as always, she wondered how people lived anywhere other than Florida. “I used to bake pies just for fun, remember? Those were the days.”
Janya, beside Wanda, stared up at the same sky. “Those days were just one week ago.”
Waves rolled in just below them, and Wanda was afraid the sound and the sun might lull her to sleep right there, with her friends watching as she drooled and snuffled.
She was tired to the bone. One week into her new career, the only thing she was sure she had done right was close on Sundays and Mondays. Sure, she would have to spend Mondays making piecrust, cleaning and ordering supplies, but she’d already decided that on Sundays she wasn’t going to lift a finger. She was going to lie out on the beach with Ken or her neighbors, and she wasn’t going to so much as eat a piece of pie. Not even when fresh strawberries were in season. Not even when Georgia peaches, juice running freely like a stream of pure nectar, were sitting in crates waiting to become peaches and cream pie.
Although that might be hard to resist.
“I gotta get more help,” she said to nobody in particular. Alice was lying on the other side of her, and Olivia, in a bright red bathing suit, was down near the waterline, prowling for shells. “But first I gotta get more business.”
“You may not want more…after you make forty…” Alice trailed off.
Wanda was alternately thrilled and terrified that on Wednesday she and Dana would be delivering forty pies to the Statler residence, in addition to making the usual number to sell at the shop. Unfortunately, for now, more help was a dream, and she was simply going to be tired and grouchy for a while. Just not on Sundays.
Olivia came back with her shells. Janya, who had brought a guide, helped identify them.
“This one is a banded tulip.” Janya held it up for the other women to admire. Frankly, Wanda didn’t care what a shell was called, but she was glad to see that Olivia, who had been moping because Lizzie was off somewhere with her mother, was perking up.
“This sharp one is called an auger.” Olivia sat down at Wanda’s feet. “I already have about a million. Lizzie likes to collect them.”
“Lizzie’s turned into a beach bunny. I never saw a kid who likes being out here as much as she does.”
“She even makes me tired.” Olivia held another shell high. “What’s this?”
Janya researched. “A kind of clamshell, I think. Yes, look.” She held out the book.
“Cal-i-co clam,” Olivia read upside down, before Janya handed the book to her.
“Lizzie does a lot of running around for a girl with asthma,” Wanda said. “That surprises me, since it seems like she’d have trouble catching her breath after a while.” She propped herself up and turned to Alice. “You know about the asthma, right? You and Dana worked out what to do if she has an attack when she’s staying at your house?”
Alice nodded. “Inhaler. But she’s never…needed it.”
Olivia looked up from the book. “Lizzie only has asthma if she spends time around cats. Last night there was a cat at the party we went to, but she didn’t pet it, and we were outside a lot, anyway.”
Wanda thought that was surprising. Dana had told her that they’d moved around so much because Lizzie’s asthma had demanded it. But then, kids played things down so they would look just like everybody else.
“I thought her asthma was worse than that,” she said out loud. “Maybe living here on the beach just agrees with her.”
“She said she used to wheeze, then she had shots, and now she’s okay if she’s careful. But she loves cats, so it’s not fair.”
“Give me a dog any day.” At that reminder, Wanda shaded her eyes and saw Chase streaking up and down the beach, perfectly happy to chase seagulls the way he had once chased a fake rabbit at the greyhound tracks. He had the same chance of catching either.
“Some people are allergic