It was no longer raining, and downtown was filled with people. The lethargy that had fallen over Miracle Springs during the storm had lifted. Music and laughter drifted through the air. There was a scrubbed clean feeling to the night, which was just what Nora needed. When she met her friends at Soothe’s rear entrance, she was smiling.
Nora rang the bell, and before long, Celeste was inviting them in.
As they followed Celeste upstairs, Nora and Hester compared notes about sluggish sales while Estella and June complained about being run ragged.
“Were you busy today?” Nora asked Celeste.
“No. But I took advantage of the quiet to make a few batches of soap.”
The women had just entered Celeste’s apartment when Estella said, “I love homemade soap. Do you make a magnolia scent?”
While Celeste and Estella talked fragrances, Nora took in the kitchen. It was crowded with plants. Herb pots lined the windowsill, houseplants sat on top of the refrigerator, and potted trees occupied any free corner. The only piece of furniture was a small café table covered in a green-checked cloth. There were no chairs. It was like standing in an urban jungle.
“We planned a supper buffet,” June said. “We’ll just line up our dishes on your cute table. Nice and casual.”
Estella produced a bottle of wine from her tote bag. “You won’t have to clean up after us because we’re using compostable paper plates and cups. And our utensils are made of bamboo.”
“I like green,” Celeste said in a brave attempt at levity. She pointed at the bottle of wine. “I have blackberry wine too. I make it every summer. Would anyone like to try it?”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Estella handed their hostess a glass.
Instead of a traditional corkscrew, Celeste used a Swiss Army knife to open Estella’s bottle. Then she took her blackberry wine out of the fridge and placed it on the table.
“We’re having a vegetarian meal tonight,” Nora told Celeste. She identified the dishes from left to right, pausing to credit Dominique for her contribution. “Roasted broccoli salad, sesame noodles with tofu, garlic lentils, cheese enchiladas, and Quiche Florentine. As always, Hester’s in charge of dessert.”
Hester put her hand on the white bakery box. “This is an apple caramel crumb pie.”
“Oh, my,” breathed Celeste, which made everyone laugh. As she looked over the various dishes, the light left her eyes. “Bren would have loved this. She became a vegetarian two years ago. I never asked her why. I just supported her decision.”
“Like a good mom.” June pressed the salad tongs into Celeste’s hands. “You take as much or as little as you want. Tonight is all about you.”
After the women filled their plates, Celeste led them into the living room.
“I hope you don’t mind eating on the floor,” she said. “As you can see, I don’t have much furniture.”
Other than a floral rug, a folding chair, a set of plastic shelves, and a bunch of oversized pillows, the room would have felt empty if not for the plants. Potted plants lined the floor, perched on the shelves, and filled every corner.
“Did you move all of these?” Hester asked, indicating the plants.
Celeste sat down next to a fern and brushed her fingers along one of its fronds. “We sure did. We were going to plant a garden at Bren’s house next spring. . . .” She stopped, swallowed, and went on. “We’ve always grown our own herbs and vegetables. We use them for food and to make soap, shampoo, and household cleaners.”
I bet you did that at Still Waters too, Nora thought.
“It feels like a picnic,” June said. “Grab a pillow and get low, ladies.”
Once they were seated with their plates on their laps, Nora raised her glass of water and said, “To Bren.”
Celeste’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t cry. She held out her glass and thanked the members of the Secret, Book, and Scone Society for their kindness.
Estella sipped the blackberry wine and exclaimed, “Celeste! You figured out how to bottle summer.” She turned to Hester. “You have to try this.”
Hester was also impressed by the wine. She and Celeste talked about home brewing, which led to Estella sharing a story about her granddaddy and his famous moonshine. She told them how he’d pour a thimble’s worth of liquor into a spoon and light it on fire. If the fire turned blue, the ’shine was good. If the fire turned yellow, her granddaddy would “sell it to a city fellow.”