Page 16 of 5 Golden Flings

Finallyshe spotted a small gas station ahead. Even from a distance it looked less than magnificent, but it would have to do.

Molly’s stomach growled as she pumped gas, wishing hard that the restrooms inside the small station would be clean. Like her wish would make any difference. There likely wouldn’t be anything in the small convenience store worth eating. Week-old hotdogs on a warm roller, she suspected. A sandwich wrapped in plastic, with no expiration date. Stale donuts. Maybe she could grab a bag of chips to hold her over.

She finished filling her tank, slid the nozzle into place, and turned. Huh. How odd!

How had she not seen that Airstream before? The silver camper attached to a huge red truck parked at the edge of the parking lot should’ve been an eye catcher as she’d turned in.

A taco truck, according to the sign.The Taco Trailer. Hallelujah and Merry Christmas! She really needed a good, spicy taco right about now. With guac. Preferably accompanied by a margarita, but since she still hadat leastfour hours of driving ahead of her that wouldn’t be the best choice.

Though dammit, she deserved a margarita. The breakup a couple weeks before turkey day had been an ugly one. Weren’t they all? Then she’d been fired four days after Thanksgiving. On the upside, she hadn’t liked her job all that much, she’d been the dumper not the dumpee, and the lease on her too smallapartment was up February 1st. Her mom had been pushing her to move closer to Huntsville. No time like the present!

The putrid-green bridesmaid dress she was to wear in a few days would’ve normally horrified her, but given everything else that was going on, the monstrosity was a minor inconvenience. Natalie had always liked green, even as a kid, and Molly would wear a potato sack if that’s what her friend wanted. But really… chartreuse was not her color, even with her auburn hair. Was itanyone’scolor?

Her feelings should be hurt that she was a last minute fill-in for a bridesmaid who’d broken her ankle and couldn’t walk down the aisle or anywhere else for a while. Natalie asked, Molly said yes, and the dress was shipped overnight. Miracle of miracles, it fit perfectly. No alterations necessary. Was it wrong to wish the thing had been lost along the way?

No, her feelings shouldnotbe hurt. It wasn’t like she and Natalie had spoken face to face in the past five years. They texted on occasion and kept in touch on social media, but it had been years since they’d had any real time together. They were both thirty now and their lives kept them busy. Too busy.

If not for social media she wouldn’t even know Natalie was marrying a hot-shot baseball player. In one of their short phone conversations Nat had mentioned how much she loved Tristan, how she couldn’t wait to be married, but she hadn’t mentioned his job. Every time they spoke one of them was interrupted by another call or a person showing up out of the blue. Conversations were cut short, questions went unanswered.

Molly pulled into a parking space on the far end of the parking lot and walked toward the taco truck. They really needed to advertise better! She should know. She’d worked in PR for the past six years. Public relations for a tech company wasn’t all that exciting, but the job paid well —hadpaid well — and she was good at it. The trailer door stood open. A large window offeredno information. Maybe when she got closer she’d peek through that window and see a menu posted.

She should smell food by now. Molly came to a stop. Maybe they were closed. She looked at the sign again, blinked, and realized her mistake. TheTinselTrailer. Not taco. She could’ve sworn…

She was about to spin around and head back into the little store to settle for an inadequate public restroom and a bag of chips, when an older woman walked out of the trailer’s open door. The lady had a Bohemian look about her, with a long colorful skirt that swished when she moved, a blouse of many colors that shouldn’t have gone with the skirt but somehow did, and a thick white braid hanging down her back. It would be difficult to guess her age, but she had a grandmotherly, hippie look about her.

There was no food here, but it would be rude to turn her back the moment she saw a person face to face.

“Sorry,” Molly said. “I thought this was a taco truck.”

The woman smiled widely. “A customer! And right on time. I was just about to set up my table.”

Maybe the old lady sold cookies, or homemade bread, or fruit. Molly hoped for cookies.

“I have just the thing for you.” The woman went back inside the trailer for a moment, and emerged moments later with a small white box in her hand. “This is for you.”

The box was too small to hold more than one undersized cookie. “I don’t need…”

“My name is Ms. Tinsel,” the woman said.

Ms. Tinsel of The Tinsel — not taco — Trailer. “I’m Molly. Molly Blake. As I said, I don’t need…”

“You need this,” Ms. Tinsel insisted.

Molly opened the box, no idea what she’d find inside. Nested on a piece of tissue was one half of a heart. It wasn’t red orpink, as you might expect a heart to be, but a beautiful shade of blue-green. The half-heart reminded her of something but she couldn’t quite rememberwhat. A faded memory niggled at the back of her brain, and then the moment of deja vu passed.

This was the kind of thing you might buy and share with a lover or a BFF. Unfortunately she didn’t have a lover, and at thirty she was a little old for BFFs. It was pretty big for a necklace, though she’d seen bigger. Just not on her. “Where’s the other half?”

“Oh, dear, I sold itdaysago.”

“This is very pretty,” Molly said. As she said the words the blue-green sparkled and seemed to move. Like the ocean. Like the gulf. “But I don’t wear much jewelry, really. Necklaces make my nape itch.”

The Tinsel woman looked confused. “This isn’t jewelry, dear, it’s a Christmas ornament specially manufactured by The Wishing Well Ornament Company.” Confusion gone, she smiled. “This is a very special wish ornament, if I do say so myself.”

Half of one.

“It’s half price,” Ms. Tinsel whispered. “And it comes with a ham sandwich and a sugar cookie. I made them both myself.”

Molly reached inside her purse for her wallet. “Sold.”

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