LITMIR.BIZ

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walls hadn’t seen a coat of paint since Dexter had bought the place back in the 1970s.

      Since the walk downtown had done nothing at all to calm her, Maddie forced herself to climb onto the treadmill, put the dial at the most challenging setting she’d ever attempted and run. She ran until her legs ached, until the perspiration soaked her chin-length, professionally highlighted hair and ran into her eyes, mingling with the tears that, annoyingly, kept welling up.

      Suddenly a perfectly manicured hand reached in front of her, slowed the machine, then cut it off.

      “We thought we’d find you here,” Helen said, still in her power suit and Jimmy Choo stiletto heels. Helen was probably one of the only women in all of Serenity who’d ever owned a pair of the expensive shoes.

      Beside her, Dana Sue Sullivan was dressed in comfortable pants, a pristine T-shirt and sneakers. She was the chef and owner of Serenity’s fanciest restaurant—meaning it used linen tablecloths and napkins and had a menu that extended beyond fried catfish and collard greens. Sullivan’s New Southern Cuisine, as the dark green and gold-leaf sign out front read, was a decided step up from the diner on the outskirts of town that simply said Good Eatin’ on the window and used paper place mats on the Formica tabletops.

      Maddie climbed off the treadmill on wobbly legs and wiped her face with the towel Helen handed her. “Why are you two here?”

      Both women rolled their eyes.

      “Why do you think?” Dana Sue asked in her honeyed drawl. Her thick, chestnut hair was pulled back with a clip, but already the humidity had curls springing free. “We came to see if you want any help in killing that snake-bellied slime who ran out on you.”

      “Or the mindless pinup he plans to marry,” Helen added. “Though I am somewhat hesitant to recommend murder as a solution, being an officer of the court and all.”

      Dana Sue nudged her in the ribs. “Don’t go soft now. You said we’d do anything, if it would make Maddie feel better.”

      Maddie actually managed a faint grin. “Fortunately for both of you, my revenge fantasies don’t run to murder.”

      “What, then?” Dana Sue asked, looking fascinated. “Personally, after I kicked Ronnie’s sorry butt out of the house, I wanted to see him run over by a train.”

      “Murder’s too quick,” Maddie said. “Besides, there are the children to consider. Scum that he is, Bill is still their father. I have to remind myself of that on an hourly basis just to keep my temper in check.”

      “Fortunately, Annie was just as mad at her daddy as I was,” Dana Sue said. “I suppose that’s the good side of having a teenage daughter. She could see right through his shenanigans. I think she knew what was going on even before I did. She stood on the front steps and applauded when I tossed him out.”

      “Okay, you two,” Helen interrupted, “as much fun as it is listening to you compare notes, can we go someplace else to do it? My suit’s going to stink to high heaven if we don’t get out in the fresh air soon.”

      “Don’t you both need to get to work?” Maddie asked.

      “I took the afternoon off,” Helen said. “In case you wanted to get drunk or something.”

      “And I don’t have to be at the restaurant for two hours,” Dana Sue said, then studied Maddie with a considering look. “How drunk can you get in that amount of time?”

      “Given the fact that there’s not a single bar open in Serenity at this hour, I think we can forget about me getting drunk,” Maddie noted. “Though I do appreciate the sentiment, that’s probably for the best.”

      “I have the makings of margaritas at my place,” Helen offered.

      “And we all know how loopy I get on one of those,” Maddie retorted, shuddering at the memory of their impromptu pity party a few months back when she’d told them about Bill’s plan to leave her. “I think I’d better stick to Diet Coke. I have to pick the kids up at school.”

      “No, you don’t,” Dana Sue said. “Your mama’s going to do it.”

      Maddie’s mouth gaped. Her mother had uttered two words when Tyler was born and repeated them regularly ever since: no babysitting. She’d been adamant about it then, and she’d stuck to it for sixteen years.

      “How on earth did you pull that off?” she asked, a note of admiration in her voice.

      “I explained the situation,” Dana Sue said with a shrug. “Your mother is a perfectly reasonable woman. I don’t know why the two of you have all these issues.”

      Maddie could have explained, but it would take the rest of the afternoon. More likely, the rest of the week. Besides, Dana Sue had heard most of it a thousand times.

      “So, are we going to my place?” Helen asked.

      “Yes, but not for the margaritas,” Maddie said. “It took me the better part of two days to get over that last batch you made. I need to start looking for a job tomorrow.”

      “No, you don’t,” Helen said.

      “Oh? Did you finally get Bill to hand over some sort of windfall?”

      “That, too,” Helen said, her smile smug.

      Maddie studied her two friends intently. They were up to something. She’d bet her first alimony check on it. “Tell me,” she commanded.

      “We’ll talk about it when we get to my place,” Helen said.

      Maddie turned to Dana Sue. “Do you know what’s going on?”

      “I have some idea,” Dana Sue said, barely containing a grin.

      “So, the two of you have been plotting something,” Maddie concluded, not sure how she felt about that. She loved these two women like sisters, but every time they got some crazy idea, one of them invariably landed in trouble. It had been that way since they were six. She was pretty sure that was why Helen had become a lawyer, because she’d known the three of them were eventually going to need a good one.

      “Give me a hint,” she pleaded. “I want to decide if I should take off now.”

      “Not even a tiny hint,” Helen said. “You need to be in a more receptive frame of mind.”

      “There’s not enough Diet Coke in the world to accomplish that,” Maddie responded.

      Helen grinned. “Thus the margaritas.”

      “I made some killer guacamole,” Dana Sue added. “And I got a big ole bag of those tortilla chips you like, too, though all that salt will eventually kill you.”

      Maddie looked from one to the other and sighed. “With you two scheming behind my back, something tells me I’m doomed anyway.”

      The tart margarita was strong enough to make Maddie’s mouth pucker. They were on the brick patio behind Helen’s custom-built home in Serenity’s one fancy subdivision, each of them settled onto a comfy chaise longue. The South Carolina humidity was thick even though it was only March, but the faint breeze stirring the towering pine trees was enough to keep it from being too oppressive.

      Maddie was tempted to dive straight into Helen’s turquoise pool, but instead she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. For the first time in months, she felt her worries slipping away. Beyond her anger, she wasn’t trying to hide anything from her kids—not her sorrow, not her fears, but she did struggle to keep them in check. With Helen and Dana Sue, she could just be herself, one very hurt, soon-to-be-divorced woman filled with uncertainty.

      “You think she’s ready to hear our idea?” Dana Sue murmured beside her.

      “Not yet,” Helen responded. “She needs to finish that drink.”

      “I can hear you,” Maddie said. “I’m not asleep or unconscious yet.”

      “Then

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