16
She opened the store as usual. It was a beautiful fall day and some warmth had decided to come through. Becky opened and was waiting for Mickey to come through with the coffee as she was so used to. She was in a good mood, one that was so persistent it was starting to annoy her. She was happy, and she didn’t know the last time she had been in such a good mood.
The doorbell chimed, and like Pavlov’s dog, Becky looked up.
Catherine John stepped into her store holding two travel cups. She looked good—happy, healthy—even though she had just been taken off house arrest. She was wearing an emerald green sweater and a pair of worn-in jeans. She was smiling, and Becky could swear her skin was glimmering.
“Oh, my God,” Becky said. “Catherine.”
“I’m free,” Catherine said. “Mickey said I m
