LITMIR.BIZ

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She adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder as the doors swished open again. More cinnamon smells assaulted her and tempted her into the warmth, out of the brisk wind and away from the physical reminder of the summer fling that had gone from scorching hot to corpse cold in three months’ time.

      “One and the same. I bought it a few years back. I always liked the way it looked. I don’t visit much, unfortunately.”

      “And now you’re here with...your family?” Wife? Kids? she thought but didn’t add.

      “Alone. My parents are going on a cruise to Barbados and my brother Zach and his wife and their daughter are spending the holiday in Chicago.”

      “Zach’s married.” She smiled at the idea of Chase’s younger brother married with a child. She’d only met him once, but had warm memories of the smiling blond guy with green eyes. Chase’s younger sister had been fresh out of high school at the time but Miriam had met her too, in passing. “And Stefanie?”

      “She’s good. Single. It’s good for her.”

      “Yeah. It’s good for me, too,” Miriam couldn’t help saying.

      “For me, as well.”

      They had a mini standoff, meeting each other’s gazes for a few seconds. In that protracted moment, she could feel a whisper of the past roll over them. It spoke of what could’ve been if they’d stayed together instead of separated. What would’ve been if... So many ifs.

      Miriam tore her gaze away from him and looked through the glass doors at the cornucopia of produce waiting to greet her. She’d be safe in there. Safe from her past snuggling up and threatening to suffocate her. Standing next to Chase made her want to simultaneously move closer and back away.

      A defense mechanism, no doubt.

      “I’d better get going. I have to buy ingredients for sweet potato pies for my family’s Thanksgiving.”

      “My favorite.”

      “It is?”

      “But I couldn’t find it in the freezer section, so...” Chase reached into the grocery bag and pulled out a frozen cherry pie, then from behind it a frozen pizza.

      “You can’t be serious. Pizza for Thanksgiving dinner?”

      “I have wine at the house, too. I can be fancy.”

      He was “fancy” incarnate. From his shiny shoes to the expensive suit hiding under a long, dark coat. A tie was cinched at his neck just so. He smelled of wealth and warmth. It was harder to imagine him eating a meal that came from a box than it was to picture him pouring wine from a bottle with a thousand-dollar price tag.

      “If frozen pizza sounds too labor-intensive, I may go the route of grilled cheese,” he said. “I have a loaf of sourdough and three types of cheddar in this bag.” He offered a brief smile. She watched his frowning forehead relax and a hint of levity tickle his lips. The transformation kicked her in the stomach. In that brief half of a second Chase had looked years younger. Ten years younger to be precise. He’d reminded her of the boy she’d fallen in love with.

      And oh, how she’d fallen. So hard that if she’d broken bones it’d have been less painful than the broken heart she’d suffered. He hadn’t been there to catch her. He’d simply stepped out of the way.

      “Well. Enjoy your bread and cheese, in whichever form you choose.” She offered a curt nod, and without ending the conversation gracefully, turned away.

      “Mimi, wait.” A masculine hand shot out in front of her, his arm brushing hers as he offered a business card. His deep voice rumbled in her ear, “My personal cell number if you have any issues. Any at all.”

      She swallowed thickly before accepting the card. Then nodded, and, without looking back, dashed into the grocery. She skipped the temptation of a cider with whipped cream at the cafe, terrified that any delay might prompt Chase to follow her in and resume their stilted conversation.

      A conversation that had no place in the current year. A conversation that could only end in an argument since she and Chase were on the opposite sides of many, many topics.

      Not the least of which was the state of her heart when she’d boarded a plane that long-ago summer.

      She stopped at the display of sweet potatoes, but there were only two knobby yams left. She clucked her tongue at her timing, which couldn’t be worse. Both for sweet potato shopping and running into ex-boyfriends who should look a lot less tempting.

      The simple black-and-white business card weighed heavy in her hand but she couldn’t part with it just yet. She shoved it into her purse and instead debated her next step. Either bribe the woman next to her into relinquishing a few of her sweet potatoes or buy the damn things in a can and hope to God her mother didn’t notice.

       Three

      “Kristine Andrix. Saver of the day!” her youngest sister announced as she strode into Miriam’s apartment the next evening. Kristine placed a handled paper sack on the counter and Miriam peeked inside, gawking at the gorgeous produce within.

      “Oh, they’re beautiful!”

      “And organic. I bought them last week since I started eating sweet potatoes for breakfast.”

      “Breakfast?” Ever the health nut, Kris was always up to some culinary experiment or another. Last year she was vegan and brought her own Tofurkey to Thanksgiving dinner; this year she was vegetarian but only ate “whole foods.”

      “Yeah. You bake the potato ahead of time, then in the morning pull it out of the fridge, warm it and top it with peanut butter and cinnamon.”

      “That...actually sounds delicious.” Miriam moved to the sink to scrub the spuds. “What time are you driving to mom’s tomorrow?”

      “I’m going tonight.”

      “Tonight?” So much for the wine she’d picked up. She was hoping they could share a glass while she regaled her sister with the tale of the Billionaire Mayor in Bigfork.

      “Brendan and I were invited to stay the night.” She waggled her eyebrows.

      “In the same room?”

      “Crazy, right? Dad never would’ve allowed it.” Kris’s mouth pulled into a sad smile. They all missed him so much. The holidays were the hardest. “I think Wendy helped lighten up the entire household.”

      “Yes, all it took was her bringing Rosalie home for Christmas.”

      “Mom prides herself in being progressive.”

      “I’m bummed, though. I was hoping we could polish off a bottle of wine like we used to...” Miriam decided not to add the words “before Brendan” to that statement. She wouldn’t rob her sister of her happiness. She placed the washed potatoes on a pan and Kristine started stabbing them with a fork.

      “Why not go tonight?” Kris lived in Bigfork, not too far from Miriam.

      “I have work to do. A report that should’ve been done earlier this week.”

      “Seems unfair for you to work on the biggest drinking day of the year.” Her sister quirked her lips.

      “Well, I’m staying Thanksgiving night so that we can raid the stores at the crack of dawn on the biggest shopping day of the year.”

      “Too bad you’re not still dating Gerard. Brendan would’ve had someone to talk to.”

      “Gerard wasn’t a great talker.” It’d been the reason they split. He hardly shared anything about his life, little or big. How his workday went, his plans for the weekend or the fact that he’d been seeing another woman at the same time he’d dated Miriam. His silence had been absolute on that front. “We have

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