Page 17 of The Wish List
The woman leaned in like she was sharing a secret then asked, “Was it a sex tape?”
Freya sputtered out a laugh and took the coffee drink she’d ordered. “No. Not a sex tape.”
“This is May Carlyle’s daughter.”
Freya glanced over to see an older woman approaching. She recognized her as the bakeshop owner, although Freya couldn’t remember her name.
“We love your mother,” the hippie barista said. “Sometimes she brings her tarot cards into the store and does readings for us.”
Freya blinked. Tarot card readings. That was a new one for May.
“How’s she doing?” the owner asked as she followed Freya to the end of the counter.
“It’s going to be a long recovery, but we were able to bring her home for Thanksgiving Day.” For some reason, Freya felt proud to share that fact. She’d never been interested in the role of dutiful daughter, but she appreciated the flash of approval in the bakery owner’s eyes.
“I’m Mary Ellen Winkler,” the woman said, holding out a hand. “You might not remember me from when you were younger.”
“I remember you,” Freya answered. She and Trinity had liked to play the game of I-wish-she-were-my-mother, and the bakery owner had always been on the top of Freya’s list.
“I’ve been following your career.”
“I’m sorry. You must have too much time on your hands.” Freya laughed, but Mary Ellen didn’t seem to clue in on the joke.
“Your mom is proud of your success.”
“Now I know you’re being nice. My mother never approved of one thing I did. Thank you for the coffee.” Freya started for the door.
The woman plucked a holiday cookie out of the case, put it in a paper bag and shoved it into Freya’s hand. “Of course she was proud, although she wasn’t happy when that guy on the survival dating show sent you home.”
Freya felt her eyes widen. She would never have guessed that her mother had watchedTrue Love Islandor any of the shows on which she’d appeared. “Robbie cheated on the winner with a flight attendant he met on the way back to the States. I dodged a bullet with that one.” Too bad she couldn’t say the same for all of her appearances.
“Well, that’s something.” Mary Ellen laughed. “I’d like to come by and see your mom sometime if you think she’s up for visitors?”
Freya didn’t know how to answer. Her mom hadn’t really had friends when Freya was younger. Did she actually have connections in the community now or did people just want to get close so they’d have the latest gossip to share at the various holiday events scheduled in town? “She needs her rest now, but I’m sure we could set something up eventually.”
The bakery owner studied her as if she knew Freya was putting her off but didn’t call her out on it. “That would be lovely. If there’s anything we can do to support you and your sisters, let us know. Magnolia takes care of our own.”
That was funny. No one had taken care of the Carlyle girls when they’d needed it most. Maybe the people in town would have surprised them if they’d reached out. More likely, they would have ended up shipped off to some relative they didn’t know, or May would have hired a stranger to look after them.
In hindsight, the decision they’d made to hide their mother’s negligence probably hadn’t been the smartest one. At the time, it felt like the only option.
“How long are you staying in town?” Mary Ellen asked. “We have lots of great events planned this year for the Christmas on the Coast festival.”
“I don’t know what that is.” Freya shook her head.
“It’s the town’s holiday celebration. Things have changed around here in the past couple of years. There’s lots of new growth and people moving to the area. This town is seeing a resurgence. But all publicity is good publicity, and I’m sure the festival coordinator would appreciate your involvement. Having a bona fide star in town would liven things up, if you know what I mean?”
Freya knew exactly what the woman meant. The majority of her income last year had been paid endorsements or events. But even if she was so inclined as far as donating her time, it certainly wouldn’t be to this town. It was not her home.
“I’m just here for my mom.” The genuine conviction she managed to convey made her thankful for that year of acting classes she’d taken when she’d first moved to California.
“Talk to Avery Atwell if you change your mind.” They were at the door to the bakery now, and Mary Ellen reached out for an awkward hug. Awkward because Freya didn’t particularly like being hugged. She pulled back quickly.
“Thanks for the cookie,” she said and headed out the door.
Trinity was nowhere to be seen. How long did it take to order some ravioli and lasagna? Freya pulled dark sunglasses from her knockoff Birkin bag as she moved toward the hardware store and kept her gaze on the sidewalk in front of her. She wished she’d thought to wear a hat today. Somehow she hadn’t given much thought to the idea of being recognized in Magnolia, but the streets were teeming with shoppers.
The media had labeled this day “Small Business Saturday,” and it was clear the local shops in Magnolia were doing big sales. Freya had seen plenty of power shopping on the swanky streets of Beverly Hills, but this had a different vibe entirely. It was crafty and quaint, which Freya would normally mock but found oddly appealing.
