Patience stepped into the salon, prepared to get her purse and move to the next item on her list. She was stopped by a tall blonde waiting by her station.
“Your mom said I’d find you here.”
Patience saw her friend Isabel and laughed. “No way. When did you get back?”
“Yesterday.”
They hugged.
“Did I know you were scheduled for a visit?” Patience asked, excited to see her friend.
“No. It was kind of unexpected.”
Isabel lived in New York and worked in marketing. Like Patience, she’d grown up in Fool’s Gold and still had family here.
Patience glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly eleven-thirty. “Want to get an early lunch and catch up?”
“I was hoping you were going to say that,” Isabel admitted. “I have so much to tell you.”
“I can’t wait to hear it.”
They took the short walk to Margaritaville and were shown to a quiet booth by the window. After ordering diet soda and guacamole, they pushed aside the menus and looked at each other.
“You first,” Patience said.
Isabel tucked her long blond hair behind her ear and shrugged. “I’m not sure where to start.”
Patience had known the other woman all her life. Isabel was a couple of years younger, so they’d never hung out in school, but shortly after Ned had walked out on Patience, leaving her with a newborn, Isabel had flunked out of UCLA and returned to Fool’s Gold. They liked to joke that their moments of disgrace had brought them together. They’d been friends ever since.
“Before I tell you my sad tale,” Isabel said, “I want to see pictures.”
Patience laughed and handed over her phone. Isabel flipped through the photos. “She’s getting bigger by the minute. She’s so pretty. Tell Lillie I can’t wait to see her.”
“I will.”
Isabel passed the phone back. Their server appeared with drinks, chips, salsa and guacamole. Isabel waited until they were alone to put her left hand on the table and wiggle her fingers.
“I’m getting a divorce.”
Patience stared at the bare ring finger. “No. What happened?”
“Nothing dramatic,” Isabel said, her wide blue eyes filled with sadness, but no tears. “Eric and I are still friends, which is pretty sad. I think the truth is we were always friends. We got along so well we wanted to believe friendship was enough, but it wasn’t.”
“I’m sorry,” Patience said, studying the other woman. There was more, she thought. Something Isabel wasn’t telling her. Not that she was going to push. When her friend was ready, she would get to it.
“Me, too. I feel stupid and lost. My parents have been married something like a hundred and fifty years.” She gave a rueful smile. “Okay, more like thirty-five, but still. Maeve has been married twelve years and keeps popping out babies. I’m the family failure.”
Patience pushed the guacamole toward her. “Is that why you’re visiting? Because of the divorce?”
“Some of it. My parents have decided it’s time for them to follow their dreams. Maeve and I are grown and they don’t want to wait until they’re too old to travel. So they took their ‘rainy day’ fund and bought themselves tickets on a cruise around the world.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No. They leave in a couple of weeks. They also want to sell Paper Moon.”
Patience stared at her, a chip raised halfway to her mouth. “No way.” Paper Moon was the local bridal shop in town. It was an institution. Isabel’s great-grandmother had opened the store.
“I know,” Isabel said. “I was shocked, too. But my mom is tired of running it and Maeve isn’t interested. She has too many babies even if she was.”
“I can’t picture the square without Paper Moon Wedding Gowns.”
“It will still be there. I’m sure we’ll find a buyer.”
“But it won’t be the same.”
Isabel glanced out the window. “Everything changes, even when we don’t want it to.” She grabbed a chip. “Anyway, that’s why I’m back. I’m going to work in the store for the next eight months and get it ready to sell. In return I get a cut of the sales price. Good news for me because I’m going to need the money.”
She leaned forward, her expression more animated. “I have a friend in New York. Sonia. She’s a brilliant designer. We’re going to go into business together. Working in my folks’ store for a few months will give me the retail experience I’ll need and some extra cash for start-up costs.”
“You sound excited.”
“I am. My plans mean I can stand living here for a little while.”
“It’s not so bad here. You’ll do fine,” Patience told her.
“I can’t believe you never left.”
“I didn’t want to. I like the town.”
“I do, too, but come on. There’s a whole world out there.”
Patience knew that was true, but she’d never been all that interested in it.
The server returned and they placed their orders. When she was gone, Isabel looked at her friend. “So, I’ve done all the talking. What’s new with you?”
“For once, I have actual news.” Patience told her about Great-Aunt Becky and the money and the coffeehouse she and her mom were going to open.
Isabel laughed. “That’s fantastic.” She raised her glass of diet soda. “To all your dreams coming true.”
They clinked glasses.
“I’m terrified,” Patience admitted. “I don’t know anything about retail. I’ve taken some classes, but it’s not the same.”
“I know what you mean. I worked in the bridal shop when I was in high school and college, but that was just for the money. I wasn’t paying attention to how things were run. If I don’t do well, we can’t sell it for as much and there goes my nest egg.”
“We’ll be learning together,” Patience said.
“I like the sound of that. We’ll support each other.” Isabel picked up another chip. “Have you heard anything about Ford Hendrix lately?”
The question was casual enough. To someone who didn’t know Isabel’s past, it would be seen as a thoughtful inquiry. But Patience did know her friend’s history. Instead of answering, she raised her eyebrows.
“Really?”
Isabel rolled her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just curious.”
“Because you’re getting a divorce?”
“No. Of course not. I’m back and that’s making me think about the past.”
“And how he was your ‘one true love’?”
Isabel winced. “Please don’t say it like that. It makes me sound like a crazy stalker.”
“You were a fourteen-year-old with a crush. I’m not sure there’s a difference.” Patience grinned. “You were wild about him.”
“Like you’re one to talk. You had a serious thing for that guy who left. What was his name?”
“Justice.”
“Right.