Chapter Eleven Bee

Chapter Eleven Bee

Thursday morning, December 14, 2023

Now that she’d gotten the hang of driving through the streets of this small little town, Bee felt marginally more confident

that she wouldn’t die in a snowbank. In the light of a brighter morning, she could better see the neighbors’ houses—their

imposing sizes, their huge front yards, their aging paneling and chipped fences, and the tire swings and dog toys that suggested

rich and busy family lives.

Bee had traveled a lot in her life, though less so with the demands of her business. Still, aside from college, she’d actually

never stayed anywhere more than a week or so, if that. It was strange, sinking so fully into a life so unlike the one she

was used to living—and one where so many people seemed content to stay.

The day before, she’d asked Jimmy about the notches in the kitchen wall that had marked Clover’s height, and he was all too happy to tell stories about his little girl growing up, and scraping her knees, and scorching brand-new pots. She’d lived in that house all her life, until now, and even Knox had spent half his life on that farm. Meanwhile, the moment both she and Beth turned eighteen, they were nearly crawling out of their skins with desperation to leave home.

She was sure she was romanticizing things—everyone had their struggles. But for her, right now, the loyalty of her swap-mate

and those around her made Bee curious. She was eager to explore more about what it might mean to be satisfied, instead of

constantly striving for more, better, shinier.

What did it mean to feel content?

Jimmy too had lived in Salem his whole life, and to hear him tell it, a contented life started with a full stomach. “It’s

like knowing where you’re going to get your next meal,” he’d said. “If you’re not constantly searching, full of fear and anxiety,

you can focus on what you’ve got in front of you.”

“So, if I have DoorDash ready to go at all times, I’ll reach nirvana?” Bee had quipped.

Jimmy had laughed. “I reckon it’s less expensive to know how to cook a thing or two yourself. You know that saying: If you

give a man a fish, he’ll eat for a day. If you teach a man to fish, he’ll—”

“Eat for a lifetime,” Bee chimed in.

“Exactly.”

“Too bad I don’t know how to cook.”

“Oh, well, Miss Bee,” Jimmy had answered with a gleam in his eye. “We can fix that right here and now.”

Though she insisted she was still too tired and jet-lagged to attempt anything more than a Hot Pocket, Bee promised Jimmy she’d think about a cooking lesson or two before she left. Then he’d invited her to a game of cards, and before she knew it, the afternoon became early evening. She found herself disappointed when he retired to the apartment below the Big House, and for the first time in nearly a decade, Bee found herself missing her parents.

But despite her promise to Beth, she didn’t call them.

Not last night and not this morning, but today. She would call them today.

But first, she had errands to run. Real ones this time.

The mom-and-pop market Jimmy had recommended to her the night before was nestled between an old movie theater and a little

café that boasted brunch and artisan coffee. Bee made note of the coffee shop immediately. You could take the girl out of

San Francisco, but... What she wouldn’t give for an overpriced latte.

She parked and headed into the grocery store, immediately taken with the cozy decor and the little pictures of the family

who apparently owned the place, all smiling faces cuddled in close with various farm animals.

“We like to share a bit of family pride here,” an older gentleman with a dark green apron said with a chuckle.

Bee ducked her head, embarrassed to be caught staring like some sort of tourist, but the man came over to her jovially, deep creases in his white, weather-worn skin and reindeer antlers atop his thinning white hair. “I’m Bob,” he said, offering his hand. “Technically, I own the place, but don’t tell my wife.” He laughed happily and then gestured to the store. “If there’s anything I can help you with, don’t hesitate to ask. We got everything you need here, short of, I guess, furniture. And tools. And maybe if you needed, I don’t know, really highbrow literature. Hmm. Maybe we don’t have everything. But we got enough! Unless you’re hankering for a particular strip of beef... We’re not really a butcher.” He shook himself out of his mutterings and then beamed at Bee again. “Well, hey! If you need it, we probably have some of it. No, that’s a terrible pitch...”

He wandered off, and Bee stared after him, feeling both charmed and confused. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her

phone, double-checking the recipe she’d researched that morning. She wanted to surprise Jimmy soon—proof that she’d been listening

to his sage advice.

Still, as she wandered the aisles and tried to parse the different brands and labels, she wondered if she hadn’t bitten off

more than she could chew. The recipe—a chicken stew—had seemed easy enough, but given that she was having trouble telling the difference between parsley and chives, she realized that she

was maybe a little less up to the task than she’d suspected. It was a feeling she had grown a little too used to these days,

and she really didn’t like it.

Before she allowed herself to sink into an anxiety spiral, she put the phone away and tried to focus on what was in front of her. Was there anything she already knew how to make? That pie crust seemed appealing—how hard was it to bake a pie? She considered it, but didn’t trust herself with the science of baking. Maybe a side soup was more manageable. Her sister was a decent enough cook; maybe she’d deign to answer a text from Bee that wasn’t about work, or their parents, or the stuff of nightmares.

Or maybe not. Best not to tempt fate.

As she thought through the options of what a multiverse version of herself might concoct on her own, she found Bob again,

this time sweeping the floor of the pasta and beans aisle. “Hi,” he said, as if genuinely happy to see her again. “Oh, hey,

what do you think about this: ‘If you need it, we want you to have it.’” Bee couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her lips,

and Bob sighed in defeat. “I’m not very good at this slogan business.”

Bee thought for a minute. “What about... ‘Your first stop when you need to shop.’”

Bob’s eyes widened. “Hey,” he said. “Hey, that’s pretty good!” He muttered it to himself a few more times, emphasizing each

word differently.

“Thanks,” Bee said, although she thought it could still use some work. “Speaking of needs, I’m thinking about making...

a dish. Of some sort. I’m not much of a cook, but thought I’d make something for the family I’m staying with.”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Bob grabbed two cans of red beans and handed them to her. “You ever made chili?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s about the easiest thing you can imagine, and it only takes two pots—one for rice and one for the chili. Easy peasy.” He gave her a quick recipe, pointing out what she needed in that aisle and directing her where she’d find the rest. “Oh, what family are you staying with?” he asked, just as she thanked him and returned to her ingredient-finding quest. “I know pretty much all the locals here.”

“Do you know Jimmy and Clover Mills?”

“Oh,” Bob said quietly. “Knox’s girl.”

Bee smiled politely as Bob shook his head.

“Terrible thing, them losing Mae like that. We get our eggs and chickens from them, but after Mae passed away, well...”

He sighed. “Let’s just say some of the conversation has dried up. Seems to be all business these days; the Mills girl ain’t

much for talkin’. I hope they’re doin’ all right. It used to be the highlight of our Christmas to head on down to their annual

party and just catch up with everyone, you know, all the locals and the other businesses here. We were a tightknit group,

I’d say. Haven’t heard from them in a while, though, aside from when they stop by to make their purchases.”

He bowed his head for a moment, and Bee let the silence hang. Then he cleared his throat and gestured to Bee’s shopping cart.

“Since you’re a friend of the family, I’ll give you a nice discount, okay? And anything you need, you just let ol’ Bob know.

I’m here to help.” He pulled her into a tight hug and then walked away shaking his head sadly.

Once again, Bee felt dazed, but her heart was full. If the rest of the locals here were anything like Bob, this was a town

that loved fiercely—they took care of their own. It wasn’t often Bee got to feel so enveloped in such warmth, and what a shock

it was to experience it in such a small, unassuming place, amid the brisk winter winds.

As promised, Bob gave Bee a hefty discount that she felt guilty for accepting. Then he pushed an entire roasted chicken and two bottles of white wine into her arms, before letting her go with a pat on the shoulder and a request that she give the Millses his and his wife Jean’s love.

After dropping off the groceries in her rental car, she locked the door and scurried quickly into the coffee shop next door,

her tongue already tasting the hundreds of calories in her extra-sweet vanilla latte. A white barista with blond hair wrapped

in a stylish bun greeted her from the cash register, while two burly-looking young white men stood behind her, pouring various

coffees and syrups into paper cups. There was a short line ahead of her, but Bee didn’t mind the wait. Like the grocery store

next door, the decorations inside here were warm and inviting, like a small mountain lodge scented with roasted coffee beans

and freshly made paninis.

To the right of the coffee bar were several small tables; students seemed to huddle together over some, catching up on their

winter readings, while others lounged in front of the fireplace, chatting animatedly with their friends and partners.

“At least it gives other businesses an opportunity to try new things,” the Black man in front of her said with a shrug. “I’m

looking forward to seeing the talent show here.”

“Yeah,” the white woman with him said with a sigh. “I mean, that party was just so majestic, though, with all the little decorations

and that gorgeous house. And the farm’s owner was such a sweet lady too. But yeah, at least there will be a little something

to participate in this year.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” the man teased.

“I grew up watching the chorus sing while everyone laughed and mingled. It’s just sad that the first year I’m actually part of the chorus, the whole tradition has changed.”

Bee listened with interest—this was the second time she was hearing about a beloved local Christmas party getting canceled,

and it seemed unlikely that they weren’t talking about the same special house she was currently staying in.

She watched as the couple took their coffee and scones and joined another group of people seated around the stone hearth on

floor pillows. She realized upon closer examination that she recognized a few people—they must all be from the chorus she’d

heard a few nights before.

The memory of the neighbors all outside, singing together, made her little city-girl heart grow two sizes. Once she received

her coffee order, she found a spot near them, wondering if she’d learn more about the house she was staying in, or perhaps

their enthusiasm for creative expression would rub off on her. Either one would suffice.

“So,” the woman from the line began, and Bee leaned in, sensing from her tone that she’d hear some chisme , as Ayana would say. “How are you and Knox ?”

The blonde to whom the woman had spoken flipped her curls coyly and sipped her coffee. “I don’t think it’s any of your business,

Lacey.”

“Stop torturing us and tell us the details, Taylor!” another woman, South Asian and smiling brightly, chimed in. “How’d the

date go?”

Bee bit her lip. This wasn’t exactly what she was hoping to hear, but, as they say, be careful what you wish for.

“I... I don’t know,” Taylor said. She huffed and leaned back on her pillow. “I don’t know if he knew it was a date.”

“What do you mean?” Lacey asked.

“He was just so... nice . The whole time we were together, he was... distant. Kind, as always, funny, as always, but he didn’t, like, try anything.

It felt like we were just... hanging out.”

Bee tried to stifle her satisfaction with a sip of her latte, then chastised herself. You don’t care, she lied to herself. Badly.

The man from the line spoke up. “Do you think he’s still hung up on Clover?”

At the mention of her name, the group went quiet. Then Lacey spoke up. “They had been together since we were kids. That’s, like, most of all our lives.”

“And I adore Clover,” the South Asian woman said now, speaking with a gentleness Bee couldn’t identify as genuine or not.

“But she left him kind of suddenly. Maybe he’s just taking things slow for now.”

“Or playing the field,” the man said, and Lacey smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

“He’s not you, ” she scolded, and he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Aw, babe. You know I only have eyes for you now.”

“Took you long enough,” she muttered.

“We’ve been together for, like, four years,” he said.

“And I asked you out in eighth grade!”

“Well, I hope Knox doesn’t make me wait that long.” Taylor sighed dramatically, and the group she was with laughed.

Bee wished she felt just as merry, but her heart was starting to ache. Not only was Knox currently taken, but he had previously been taken by her swap-mate. In her mind, that made him permanently off-limits.

Just as she considered getting up and leaving, her phone buzzed. She was thankful to see a friendly face pop up on the screen.

“Hey, A,” she said with a sigh.

“Hey, B!” Ayana answered. “Why do you sound so miserable? Ohio too cold for you?”

“No,” Bee said. She didn’t want to admit that she was feeling sad over a boy she’d known for eight seconds, so instead she

came up with the next best answer. “I’m planning to tell my parents tonight that I’m out of town.”

“Oof,” Ayana said. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. What’s up?”

“Just wanted to thank you for suggesting that YouTube celebrity to me a few months ago. Our booth at the holiday market was

the belle of the ball.”

“I’m sure the free swag didn’t hurt.”

“Probably. I saw your sister too. She came over and schmoozed with us for a bit.”

“Did she curse you out for convincing me to use your app to skip town?”

“She probably did in her head, but no, she kept it classy—didn’t say a word about you.”

Somehow that actually made Bee feel worse. “Great,” she said. “Well, I’m glad the event went well. Sorry to miss the next

one too.”

“No, you’re not,” Ayana said.

Bee laughed. “I’m not, no. All things considered, I’m actually enjoying myself here in the snow. There are cows and chickens

and thousands of miles between me and my family, and most of my clients. It’s a good holiday so far.”

“Good! Glad to hear it. Oh! I almost forgot—I met Clover yesterday too. Nice girl! Beth saved her from almost dying.”

“She what?!”

“Clover almost fell on the ice at the skate rink, but all good. No concussions.”

Bee couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. Her sister always swooped in to save the day. “Well, that’s good,” she said. “Thank

her for me.”

“Done and done. Anyway, I was just calling to check in on you and thank you again for your help. You know to call me if you

need anything.” As they said their goodbyes, Bee realized how much lighter she felt.

Once again, Ayana had put things in perspective for her, albeit unknowingly. Bee had meant what she said—she was enjoying herself here in Salem. One boy’s taken heart wasn’t going to change that. Even so, she knew that if she was really

going to relax, she’d have to stop putting off the one call she’d been avoiding since she got there.

She pulled up her mom’s name, feeling her heart beat faster with every ring.

Just when she hoped that the heavens were smiling down on her, her mom picked up. “Hi, Beatrice. What do you need?”

“Hi, Mama,” Bee said. “I wanted to tell you something.”