Chapter 28

Michelle is inspectingthe strawberries with a critical eye. The last basket she brought home from the grocery store went moldy before she even opened it. She turns the plastic container over, notices how dark and wet the berries look, and returns it to the produce shelf. She’ll stop at the farmer’s market this weekend instead.

She steers her cart around a woman wrestling with a baby and two toddlers who are strapped into the plastic car molded onto the front of her oversized cart. Her mind is on whether she should call Amy Marino back. She and Lynn have talked it over ad nauseam, but they can’t decide what to do.

She’s rounding the corner to the bakery to pick up some pretzel rolls when she hears her name.

“Michelle! Hey, girl.”

She turns toward the voice to see Rachel barreling toward her, pushing a large cart that’s nearly overflowing.

“Hey Rachel. You having a party?”

“Sort of. The lacrosse team is coming to our house for dinner next week before the match, so I’m making lasagna for twenty teenage boys.”

“Is your oven big enough?” Michelle asks seriously.

Rachel laughs. “I don’t think it is, actually, but I’ve got my neighbor’s reserved for the third pan. Anyway, how’ve you been?”

“Good. Busy.”

“Yeah, this time of year is wild.”

Michelle smiles to herself. Childless by choice, she knows what’s coming next.

Rachel continues, “With all the end of the year activities and finals and formals, it’s never ending. You know.” Then Rachel’s eyes go wide as she remembers that Michelle doesn’t know. “Oh, sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.”

Sometimes Michelle thinks she should tattoo the sentence on her forehead. Out of the group of women who have been her friends since high school, only Lynn actually believes Michelle doesn’t want children. The others must think that there’s a medical reason or some other issue because they’re always forwarding her articles about magical herbs that improve fertility. It’s aggravating, but she understands it comes from a place of love. In any case, at this point, staring down fifty, that ship’s sailed.

“Hey, have you been listening to that podcast?” Rachel changes the subject in an overly casual voice.

“You know I have. We texted about it.”

“Well, that was early, after the trailer. I mean, Diana’s been interviewed now, and Kristy.”

Michelle doesn’t want to talk about the podcast, but Rachel’s got her cart angled so that she’s blocked in between the bagels and the wall.

“I heard it,” she says reluctantly.

“So what do you think about that most recent episode? I didn’t know Heather had a pager.”

“Me neither. Listen, Rach, I’m kind of in a hurry. I need to?—”

Rachel acts as if she hasn’t heard her. “Given how much attention this podcast is getting, we all need to remember what we agreed to after that night.”

Suddenly, Michelle’s not as interested in getting away from Rachel. She grips the cart handle and cocks her head to the side. “What are you trying to say, Rachel?”

“Nothing.” Rachel widens her big blue eyes innocently.

“Are you sure? It sounds like you’re telling me to keep my mouth shut.”

“I, I didn’t ….” She blows out a breath. “Listen, Andy came home from poker night a few nights ago, going off about somebody talking to Maisie Farley. Apparently someone told her about the kids from Allderdice. And you know, we all agreed to protect Brett’s cousin that night—including you and Lynn. We just want to make sure?—”

“Who’s we?”

“I told you. The guys were talking about it at poker.”

“And they told you to talk to me?” Michelle bets Rachel ambushed her rather than Lynn because she knows if she pulled this crap with Lynn, Lynn would tear her a new one right in the middle of Bargain Foods.

“They wanted me to remind you and Lynn. That’s all,” she finally manages.

“Let Andy know you delivered your message. I’ll share it with Lynn.”

The fact that Michelle hasn’t agreed to anything sails right over Rachel’s head because she smiles with relief. “Thanks, Shell. I swear, sometimes I wish we could go back in time and do things differently. This stresses me out.”

Michelle nods. “I understand.”

She does. She also understands that, at this point in her life, Rachel’s not going to re-examine her actions and make a different choice.

Rachel comes around her cart and hugs Michelle, who stands there awkwardly.

“I’ll let you get on with your shopping. Thanks for understanding.”

“Good luck with the lacrosse team dinner.”

She steers her cart away quickly, eager to get away but, at the same time, grateful that Rachel waylaid her. The conversation has helped her make up her mind about calling Amy back. Andy should have known better than to sic Rachel on her. Michelle hates to be told what to do.