Page 68 of Shift the Tide

“I do not,” Danica said.

“You do,” Kiera said with a sigh.

Gwen sighed and pushed past Pete, mumbling something about Arlo’s suit, and Pete gave the group a wide-eyed look of surprise.

“What is going on with Gwen and Maggie? They’ve hardly even looked at one another today,” Danica said, her voice a whisper.

Kiera shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s been like that since I’ve been here, so I’m not sure if it’s something bigger or just Maggie’s way of grieving.”

“By pushing away her wife? Nah. Something’s way off,” Izzy said. “Even after Maggie’s pregnancy loss, it wasn’t like this.”

“Well, now’s not a good time,” Danica said, glancing over her shoulder toward the hallway. “Maybe in a few weeks we could check in with Mags about it, but not now.”

Izzy and Kiera both nodded.

“Alright, who is ready for a funeral?” Pete asked in a forcefully cheerful tone. “Any bets on how many salads that aren't really salads will be at the church after?”

The sun hunglow in the sky, filtering soft light through the tree line beyond the church parking lot. The reception hall inside was still packed, filled with murmured condolences and the clinking of catering trays, but outside, tucked away on the worn stonesteps at the back of the church, the five of them sat in much-needed silence.

Pete stretched her legs out, tipping her head back against the brick wall. “So… we all made it out alive.”

“Debatable,” Maggie muttered, making Izzy choke on her drink.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Wrong choice of words,” Pete said with a grimace.

Danica, ever the doctor, gave Maggie a once-over. “You should eat something.”

Pete shuddered. “Who the hell decided funeral food had to be so aggressively 1950s? Who wants to mourn and eatjellied saladsat the same time?”

“I mean, it’s a miracle we haven’t all burst from the casserole table alone,” Izzy said, eyeing the nearly translucent potato dish Pete had abandoned earlier.

Kiera, who had been quiet for most of the conversation, finally spoke. “Who even invented the funeral potato? Like, at what point in history did someone decide, ‘You know what this grief buffet needs? A metric ton of hash browns and cream of mushroom soup.’”

Maggie let out a heavy sigh, and Izzy followed her line of sight to where Gwen was playing with the kids on the small church playground.

Danica nodded solemnly. “And why is there always a rogue cereal topping? Like, ‘We have to mourn, but let’s not forget to add a solid layer of Corn Flakes for crunch.’”

Pete snorted, shaking her head. “I’m just saying, I better not die before you guys, because if I look down from the afterlife and see y’all serving up a tray of Funeral Surprise in my honor, Iwillhaunt your asses.”

“Haunt us all you want,” Izzy said, nudging Pete’s boot with her own. “You think we’renotgoing to serve a buffet ofaggressively Midwestern comfort foods at your funeral? We’ll make sure there’s an entire table dedicated to things suspended in Jell-O.”

Pete groaned. “Disrespectful.”

Maggie shook her head, lips twitching up into an almost-smile. “I would like to formally request zero Jell-O at my funeral, please.”

“Noted,” Kiera said, pressing a hand over her heart like she was taking an oath. “But, in return, you have to promise that if I die first, you’ll all sit here and reminisce about me while eating an exorbitant amount of cake.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Danica said without hesitation. “Red velvet, right?”

Kiera gave her an approving nod. “Exactly. None of that dry-ass vanilla cake. I want layers.”

Pete let out a dramatic sigh, looking up at the church behind them. “I’m still relieved none of us spontaneously combusted upon entry. I was fully prepared for a queer flames situation.”

“Oh, same,” Izzy said, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. “I haven’t stepped foot in a church in years. The whole time, I kept waiting for some old priest to sniff out the gay divorce and start throwing holy water on me.”

“Please,” Danica scoffed. “I was waiting for them to see all of us and start whispering about the woke gay agenda.”

Maggie laughed, her voice catching slightly.

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