Page 91 of A Love Song for Ricki Wilde

CHAPTER 21

THE WITCHES OF EASTWICK

February 26, 2024

ALululemon-clad redhead pushing a designer stroller swept into Wilde Things. Her eye was drawn to the casually sharp gentleman in gray jeans and a denim utility shirt, lifting a tropical bouquet onto a high shelf. He had an… important air about him. She made her way over.

“Hi! Do you work here?” she whispered, so as not to wake her baby.

“Morning, ma’am. Yes, I’m director of first impressions. How may I be of service?”

“Well, you make quite a first impression.” She winked.

Ezra stuffed his hands in his pockets and smiled bashfully.

“I’m looking for a plant to give my place a kick. I don’t get a lot of light, though.”

“I see.” Thinking, he scratched the side of his jaw and cocked his head. “How about a low-light flowering plant? Like begonias or African lilies. They can grow anywhere, I’ve heard tell. Just make sure they get at least eight hours of artificial light daily.”

The redhead beamed, satisfied. She left with a great bundle ofAfrican lilies and a tiny parlor palm plant for her baby’s nursery (the tall hottie with the Tupac lashes assured her it would help purify the air).

From the outside, things looked perfect. It was a clear, sunny day, and the shop was, if not packed, definitely almost bustling. Ricki mingled with her clients, looking cute in a full ’50s tulle skirt, a clingy tee readingBUY BLACK, and Capezio ballet flats. She looked calm enough. That is, if you didn’t notice the dark bags under her eyes. Or the worried pinch to her brow. Or the fact that Ezra was nursing a similar pained look under his courteous, helpful smiles.

Across the room, their haunted eyes locked on each other. The air crackled with the intensity of their longing. They’d been like this all day, veering between panicked melancholy and an electric ache. They had three days left. Time was winding down, as steady as the final remaining sands through an hourglass. Reality had set in.

And the only comfort they felt was when they were no more than five inches apart.

But it was impossible for Ricki and Ezra to be together constantly. Ricki wept in silence in the shower. Ezra returned from grocery runs with his eyes hollow and his mouth drawn. Following these quiet, devastating moments, they’d run to each other—grasping and dizzy with need—with nothing left to say.

Rickididhave things to say to Ms. Della. But Ms. Della had utterly iced her out. Ricki was at a loss. She’d slipped letters under her door. She’d left voicemails and floral arrangements, baked cookies and cakes. She spotted Naaz coming and going less frequently and wondered if she’d moved in with Ms. Della to provide around-the-clock care. Her health was clearly declining, and it gutted Ricki. Who’d care for Ms. Della after she was gone? She’d been in the older woman’s life for such a short time, but theywere family. At this moment especially, Ricki missed Ms. Della’s no-nonsense outlook, the gentle arm pats, the comforting cups of tea. Ricki needed to reconcile with her.

While Ricki was wrestling with these thoughts at her workstation, Ezra was pulled away from his current customer by Tuesday, who’d just rushed into the shop out of nowhere.

“Sorry to bust in on your sale, but I really owe you an apology,” said Tuesday as she led him to the emerald throne in the far corner. Her face was barely visible behind a snapback.

“What for?” Ezra wasn’t surewhichthing she was apologizing for. Breaking into his house, maybe?

“I hate the way I acted at that wedding. Trying to fight you and all. Old habits die hard.”

“No need to apologize.” Ezra meant it.

“Seriously?”

He shrugged lightheartedly. “You were looking out for your friend. It’s honorable.”

“Here’s the thing about me. In general, I feel like men are guilty until proven innocent. I know it’s problematic, but…” She let out a defeatist exhale. “Look, I’m still healing, okay?”

“We’re all healing from something,” he said, his voice filled with understanding. He leaned against the wall. “Say no more.”

“Also,” Tuesday continued, “in my defense, you acted scary.” Lowering her brim, she whispered, “The way you kept quote-unquote running into Ricki? How was I supposed to know you two were magical soulmates rendered helpless to the involuntary gravitational pull of love?”

“If you’d guessed that, you’d be the scary one.”

“I don’t think for a second that you two are in real trouble. Curse or no curse,” said Tuesday with a dismissive wave. Ricki had been trying to say a permanent goodbye to her for days, but she refused to allow it. “Light overpowers dark. And love conquers all.”

“That’s what they say,” he said ruefully. He could barely stand to hear it said out loud. He was too old to believe in slogans.

“Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I’m not an asshole, Ezra. I’m just protective.”

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