“She’s doing well,” Sadie said, and even though it tasted like a lie, it sounded like the truth.
“Fine, fine,” Ms. Watanabe said. “I will take a pomegranate éclair to go.”
“Oh honey, you should try the lime–poppy seed Bundt cake. It’s like an orgasm in your mouth.”
Mrs. Watanabe’s mouth gaped like a fish’s, and Sadie had to stifle a laugh.
“I’m telling you,” Ms. Daunton went on. “It’s a shame Sadie won’t share the recipe.”
“Yes, I—I have often thought Sadie should offer a baking class,” Mrs. Watanabe said, trying to gather herself after the orgasm comment.
“You have?” Sadie asked in astonishment.
“It would be good for business.”
“What would be good for business?” Jimmy Wharton asked, coming up to the counter for a refill on his coffee. Sadie took it on autopilot and poured the specialty coffee she ordered for the shop. It had notes of blueberry and honey that gave it a clean, creamy flavor profile, and it also happened to be highly addictive.
“It is not good to butt in on other people’s conversations,” Mrs. Watanabe said with a frown.
“Oh, honey,” Ms. Daunton said, “nobody can have a private conversation in this town. We were saying how Sadie should offer cooking classes. Or at the very least, share her recipes,” she added to Jimmy.
“Sherry would love that,” Jimmy said, speaking of his wife. “You could do couples classes. Like for date night.”
“I’ll think about it,” Sadie said. The excitement bubbling in her chest felt like champagne bubbles, light and airy and making her float just a little.
“Don’t forget. Bells and honey.”
“Yes, Mrs. Watanabe,” Sadie said, handing her a container with a pomegranate éclair and a Bundt cake for good measure. Not that the woman needed any extra energy. She was a force to be reckoned with.
Sadie went back to the kitchen, humming to herself and working on projects until she felt something calling her home. It wasn’t an urgent pull, but there was a pleasant sort of siren song that resonated in her bones. She checked in with Gail, who shooed her out with a kiss on the cheek, and then started a slow walk back home.
The sky darkened, and the wind whipped through her jacket, but the warmth of the pull kept her from shivering. She was back near the house when the soles of her feet grew warm, and she laughed, the anxious thoughts finally ebbing away. There, in the middle of the empty street, with her arms outstretched and mouth open, stood her Aunt Tava, barely over five feet tall, with wide hips and short arms. With a squeal of delight, Sadie rushed over to her.
“I was waiting for you!” Aunt Tava said in a high, girlish voice. “Darling, beautiful girl, you.” She enveloped Sadie in a brown-sugar-and-vanilla-scented hug before resuming her position. Her blue hair glinted nearly neon in the wild weather. There were stars painted on her cheeks, and her tiered skirt shone with glitter like technicolor stars.
“What are you doing!” Sadie demanded, eyes wide, shaking her head in disbelief.
“About to rain.”
“But what are you doing here? In Poppy Meadows?”
“I had to travel the farthest, so I got here first. The others are coming.”
“What others?” Sadie exclaimed.
“Everybody leaves, but we always come back.”
“Auntie Tava,” Sadie said, equally frustrated and endeared by her aunt’s ability to speak only in riddles when it suited her, “I haven’t seen you in years. Does Gigi know you’re here?”
“Here it comes,” Aunt Tava whispered.
“Here what—”
“Shh,” her aunt interrupted. “The first drops of September are sacred. Catch them on your tongue, and you’ll be granted your truest heart’s desire. Even if you don’t know what it is yet.”
Sadie smiled and when, a few moments later, Aunt Tava snapped her fingers, she obediently assumed the same position. Arms out, mouth open. And sure enough. She felt a drop of rain on her arm. And then her shoulder.
It started slow. But when the first drop hit her tongue, it was sweet and earthy, like the sky was waking up. Sadie smiled.
A car drove around them and honked. Aunt Tava completely ignored it.
“Love is always the answer,” Aunt Tava whispered as the smell of warm, wet pavement worked its own kind of magic. “But it’ll never come the way you are. Rigid, silly girl. Dream a little. Didn’t you see the flood over the bridge the other day?”