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She put her hand up. “Stop. I understood why you stopped visiting. And honestly, I was grateful because I was ashamed at first. Like, who gets ashamed about having breast cancer? But I kept thinking back to when I made dinner in the microwave, the crappy fast food I fed us, or when I was younger and smoked weed.”

Mack looked down at her hands. “You think food or pot gave you cancer?”

“I didn’t know what did, but I needed to blame it on something. After the hospitalizations and surgeries, I heard your dad panicking with the insurance company.” Her mom grabbed a pillow next to Mack and laid it on her lap. “But I was so tired. I couldn’t do anything. I only looked at the bills once and completely lost it. So much money, Mack. And so much paperwork. He had stuff everywhere. Business cards, bills, random numbers covered our fridge. And you know your father… I manage all our finances for a reason. But he told me to trust him, and he’d figure it out.”

The heat in Mack’s chest burned down to her core. She kept her eyes on her hands.

“And you know what happened? For the first time, I let it go. I focused on getting better, he focused on working his ass off, and everything worked out.”

“What happened with all the bills?” Mack knew. But she needed confirmation that her story aligned with her mom’s beliefs.

“I thought the bills would ruin us and drive your father to an early grave. Truly. Turns out all that stress and worry was a billing error. Everything was taken care of like that.” She snapped her fingers.

And Mack exhaled.

Her mom stood and tossed the pillow next to Mack. “And look at us now. We live in a baller condo?—”

“No one says that.”

“Killer condo? A condo with ice in its veins? The condo caught a vibe?”

“Make it stop.”

“Oh, and I got a fabulous new set of tits.”

“Mom!”

“What? True story.” She squeezed Mack on the shoulder and walked to the door. “Point is, Mackey, sometimes you gotta trust things will work for the best. Have a little faith.”

Mack smiled and scooted up higher on the bed. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Forgot to mention I grabbed a new creamer from the store. A sugar-free extra spiced pumpkin and nutmeg flavor. You don’t even need to refrigerate it!”

“Let’s not ruin this nice moment, ’kay?”

Her mom laughed and shut the door.

Once she was alone, Mack’s thoughts trailed back to Charlie and how she spent her morning. Did she hug the retired couple today that came in every day? Did her mom/daughter team stop by? Did she sleep okay after the storm?

She glanced down at her word count and frowned. Two hours into messy, disorganized writing, she shut the laptop. If she was going to be distracted by thoughts of Charlie, she might as well go to her shop and see her in person. Maybe then she could get some writing done.

The wet streets sloshed under Mack’s tires. Pockets of giant puddles and downed branches strewed the roads. Several people picked up yard debris, surrounded by green garbage bags and rakes. Everyone knew Seattle got a ton of rain, but last night’s storm must’ve been out of the norm.

Her belly flip-flopped. Something had shifted between her and Charlie last night. After slowly growing closer, they took a sharp turn and accelerated. Yeah, they kissed. But Mack’s heart screamed that it was more than a kiss. And sure, the feelings intertwined with the kiss scared the hell out of her. But she still wanted to do it again.

She slammed the car door and skipped over a puddle on the sidewalk. The bright sun was in sharp contrast from yesterday’s gray. The air was unusually soggy and sticky, the heat mixing with storm remnants, but the copper scent clouding the air last night reverted to a pine scent. She rounded the corner and stopped.

What the…?Sugar Mugs’s lights were on, but blinds covered the windows, and the closed sign faced the street. Maybe Charlie forgot to flip the sign toOpen? But that wouldn’t explain the blinds covering the windows. She turned the knob. Locked.

She didn’t want to be a super creeper, but everything about this was odd. Her shoes squished into the earth as she tiptoed to the side of the house and peeked through the window.

Oh no.

Charlie frenzy mopped with a deep frown, flushed face, and a lopsided, unkempt ponytail. Leggings and a T-shirt in place of her typical flowy dress garb. Whatever happened, it wasn’t good.

Mack’s knuckles rapped on the windowpane.

Charlie whipped up her head. No smile, no soft wave. Charlie shoved the mop in the bucket and pointed to the front door.