The Friends We Keep. Susan Mallery

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Morgan always seemed to come out ahead. Gabby doubted the arrangement with Hayley was any different.

      Several more women walked into the store. Each session could handle thirty-two customers, although the daytime sessions generally had more like twenty-five. Supper’s in the Bag was also open Thursday through Sunday evenings, from four until eight-thirty. She spotted Hayley, Nicole and Nicole’s son Tyler. Nicole dropped her son off with Cecelia and they all met by the hand-washing sink.

      “Hi,” Gabby said as she hugged her friends.

      Nicole was tall, blonde and enviably willowy. Gabby wasn’t sure how much of her fit body was genetic and how much of it came from the fact that she taught exercise classes for a living. Gabby kept promising herself she was going to sign up for one. She was still carrying around an extra twenty-five pounds from her pregnancy, but given that the twins were starting kindergarten, she needed to either do something about the extra weight or stop blaming her daughters.

      Hayley was also thin but in a way that made Gabby worry. As usual, her friend was pale with dark circles under her eyes, but for once she seemed filled with energy.

      “I’m excited about the meals tonight,” Hayley said. “The veggies were extra fresh and I think the new enchilada recipe is going to be a winner.”

      “You seem happy,” Gabby said as she put on a green Supper’s in the Bag apron. “What’s going on?”

      “Nothing much.”

      Gabby wondered if that was true. Hayley’s life was a physical and emotional roller coaster as she tried desperately to carry a pregnancy to term. Her last miscarriage had only been a few months before and she was taking a break—on doctor’s orders.

      Nicole pulled her long hair back into a ponytail. “You sure?” she asked. “You’re very bouncy.”

      Hayley laughed. “I don’t think that’s a flattering description.”

      The three friends stopped at their first station. Directions were written on laminated cards. The ingredients for layering the casserole were stored in bowls and bags. Spices were clearly labeled.

      Each of them took a foil pan. “I can’t believe it’s already the middle of July,” Nicole said as she layered corn tortillas on the bottom of the pan. “I was hoping to take Tyler away for a few days, but I don’t see that happening. Between work and taking care of him, I’m constantly running.”

      “You own a business,” Gabby said, ignoring yet another stab of guilt. She should own a business, she thought. Or be going back to work more than twenty hours a week. And cooking all her dinners from scratch. Honestly, she had no idea where her day went. The twins were in a summer program from eight until one every day. Makayla, her fifteen-year-old stepdaughter, was in a different camp that went from eight until four. Surely she could get her errands run, laundry finished, meals prepped and cooked, and do something to help the world. But it didn’t seem to happen.

      “There’s always Disneyland,” Hayley offered as she scooped chunks of chicken into her casserole. Rather than using a single nine-by-thirteen pan, Hayley used two eight-by-eights. Which doubled her number of meals. Of course it was just her and Rob.

      “Tyler loves Disneyland,” Nicole said. “It just seems like cheating.”

      “Be grateful it’s close,” Gabby told her.

      The massive amusement park was only about thirty miles away from Mischief Bay. Less than an hour by car, if the traffic gods were on your side.

      Gabby put her arm around Nicole. “It could be worse. There could be Brad the Dragon Land. Then you’d be totally screwed.”

      Nicole grinned. “I’d be tempted to set it on fire.”

      Hayley and Gabby laughed.

      Brad the Dragon was a popular children’s book series. Many young boys, Tyler included, loved B the D, as he was known by intimates. For reasons Gabby had never understood, Nicole disliked the character and had a serious loathing for the author. She claimed that she’d read an article once that said Jairus Sterenberg was only in it for the money, that he was evil and most likely responsible for any coming zombie apocalypse headed their way. Gabby was less sure about those claims. Of course there were plenty of parents who were desperately tired of all things Frozen or Minion.

      “Was Hawaii amazing?” Nicole asked.

      Gabby nodded as she remembered the ten days she, Andrew and the twins had spent in a condo on Maui last month. It had just been the four of them. Makayla had stayed with her mother.

      “It was gorgeous! Beautiful weather and plenty to do. The girls had a fantastic time.”

      “How did Makayla do at her mom’s while you were gone?” Hayley asked.

      Gabby sighed. “Okay. Her mom doesn’t love having her around more than a weekend at a time, so that makes things difficult. I don’t get it. Makayla’s fifteen. Sure, she can be a bit mouthy, but she’s her kid. You’re supposed to love your kid.”

      “She’s back with you?” Nicole asked.

      “Her mom dropped her off the first night we were home.”

      “Too bad you couldn’t take her with you,” Hayley said.

      “Uh-huh,” Gabby murmured neutrally, sprinkling cheese on her finished casserole before securing the plastic lid. Because while she probably should have wished Makayla could have gone with them, in truth she’d been grateful for the break from her stepdaughter.

      Their first meal finished, they took their pans over to the wall of refrigerators and placed their entrées on their assigned shelves, then moved on to the next station. Hayley began pulling down spice bottles while Gabby and Nicole scanned the directions.

      “Stew is interesting,” Nicole said, her tone doubtful. “The Crock-Pot information is good.”

      “You don’t sound convinced,” Gabby murmured, her voice low.

      “It’s summer. I don’t want to have to use the Crock-Pot in the summer.” Nicole shook her head. “A classic first-world problem, right? But Tyler loves stew, which means a dinner that’s easy and he’ll eat. I’m in.”

      “Excellent attitude,” Gabby told her, with a wink. “You get a gold star today.”

      “I live for gold stars.”

      Hayley pointed to the spice jars she’d lined up. “This is going to be delicious,” she promised. “You’ll love it. And the next station is all about grilling over fire.”

      “You are in a happy mood,” Nicole said. “What’s up? Your boss give you a raise?”

      “No, and that’s okay.” Hayley opened one of the gallon plastic bags and began measuring the spices. “Gabby mentioned my mood, too. Am I usually crabby all the time?”

      “Not at all,” Gabby said quickly, not sure how to explain that for once, Hayley seemed happy and relaxed. If she hadn’t known the other woman was on hiatus from trying to conceive, she would have wondered if her friend was expecting. Before she could figure out if she should ask anyway, Hayley picked up the

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