“Hey, Rarity, I need to go open. I’ll chat with you tonight.” Sam circled around the furniture and Madame Zelda and almost ran out of the store.

  “That girl needs to relax. She’s wound up like a clock ready to bust a spring.” Madame Zelda watched Sam through the window as she hurried to open her store. “It’s not healthy to be that anxious.”

  “Sam’s a little high-strung.” I nodded to the flyer. “I hope your client decides to visit at least once. Can I have her name?”

  “I do not divulge my clients’ information. Surely you can understand the privacy needed for a job like mine.” She tucked the flyer into a pocket on her dress and left the shop.

  Rarity waited for her to disappear out of view of the window before responding. “As if people who visit fortune tellers are expecting privacy like it was their doctor. Maybe that’s just life in Sedona.”

  Rarity didn’t have time to think about Madame Zelda’s privacy policy much more that day because she had several customers show up, one after the other. A few took a flyer about the book club, others asked her to order a book for them, and one walked through the bookstore checking out the stock, and just left.

  When she went to lock the door at five, she glanced outside at the empty sidewalk. Or almost-empty sidewalk. The man who’d been window-shopping at her store sat on a bench on the other side of the street reading. He must have felt her stare because he looked up from his book and nodded after meeting her gaze.

  Now she felt stupid. He’d just been killing time. Or looking for his online ordering shopping list. Maybe opening a brick-and-mortar store in a digital age hadn’t been the smartest idea with the book world changing in front of her eyes.

  It didn’t matter, though. This was her dream, and she wasn’t going to waste any time worrying about opening at the right time. Action was rewarded. Worrying never did anyone any favors.

  She went back to the storeroom and grabbed her purse out of the small closet. Then she checked the back door to make sure it was locked. Finally, she turned off the lights, and holding her keys in one hand, went to the front door to leave and then lock up.

  The man on the bench was gone when she turned and dropped her keys into her tote. She glanced up and down the street but didn’t see him.

  “Hey, are you ready? The restaurant’s this way.” Sam stood outside her shop, waiting for Rarity to join her.

  She shook off the vague unease she felt, but before she went to meet her friend, she reached back and checked again that the shop was locked. Then she slowly walked the few steps to meet Sam.

  “Everything all right?” Sam’s face echoed the fear that Rarity had felt when she’d seen the guy watching her.

  Rarity took her arm. “Everything’s fine. I’m just hungry, that’s all.”

  Chapter 2

  When next Tuesday rolled around, Rarity worked on a crossword puzzle while she waited to see who would show up for the book club. She looked up when the bell sounded over the door. But it was just Sam with a tray filled with cookies and slices of coffee cake.

  “I’m happy to pick this up at Annie’s, but I think you ordered way too much. What if no one shows?” Sam set the cookies on the wood bar that served as the cash register area. “You only had one person attend last week.”

  “Don’t jinx it. Shirley said she’d be back this week, and she took flyers for her oncologist’s office. Besides, if no one shows, then I have a lot of cookies to eat. I won’t have to cook dinner for days.” Rarity pulled up a stool behind the counter and sat down. She wasn’t at her strongest yet, and more often than not, a day at the shop had her falling asleep in her chair after dinner. When she talked to her doctor about her lack of energy, she’d been told to give it time. She was going to use the same mantra for her new book club. “The group will fill out, eventually. This survivors’ group is a community service project.”

  Sam came around, pulled a water bottle out of the fridge, and set it in front of Rarity. “Drink this. You’ll feel better if you’re hydrated.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Rarity smiled to soften the blow. Besides, Sam was right. She needed to drink more water. Moving to the high desert from the Midwest had made her crave water. She just needed to get better at reading her physical needs. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Since I don’t have to be back at the shop until Thursday, I thought I’d grab some takeout and stream that new romance movie everyone’s talking about. Hopefully, I’ll crash early. Tomorrow, I’m going for a hike. There’s a new shop down the street, and the owner is hot. He’s leading a Wednesday morning hike. And surprise, I signed us both up.” She put a card on the counter. “It starts at six, and we’ll be back at nine. Your shop doesn’t open until ten, right?”

  “Yes, but I’ve got inventory tomorrow.” Rarity pushed the card back toward her friend. “Don’t tell me you paid in advance.”

  “Yes, I did. And I don’t get my money back if we don’t show, so be at that address at six.” Sam pushed the card back in front of Rarity, with a smile. “You’ll be fine. It’s not a long trek, and the scenery really is worth the time.”

  “The hot instructor scenery or the outdoor scenery?” She picked up the card and looked at it. She’d been meaning to start exercising outdoors rather than just walking on her treadmill, but it all seemed too much.

  “Both.” Sam headed to the door. “See you tomorrow.”

  A couple of women walked into the bookstore as Sam walked out. Rarity grabbed the card and tucked it into her jeans pocket. “Feel free to look around. I’ll be here to answer any questions.”

  But instead of looking at the bookshelves, the women moved to the register. The younger of the two dropped her voice to almost a whisper. “We’re here for the survivors’ club? I have my hospital bill with me if I need to prove that I actually had cancer.”

  “You don’t need to prove anything.” Rarity came around the counter. “I’m Rarity Cole, and I am the owner of The Next Chapter. I’m also a breast cancer survivor. I’m excited to have you both here.”

  “I’m Holly Harper and this is Malia Overstreet. We were in the same chemo pod last summer. We both love to read, so naturally we became best friends.” Holly put her arm around Malia. “Malia even helped me find an apartment when I had to move out of my house. Divorces are so hard, right?”

  “I’ve never been married, so I’m not sure.” Rarity didn’t mention the long-term live-in boyfriend who had left when she’d lost her hair. Of course, she rarely mentioned Kevin. Or thought about him anymore. Which was a blessing. “We’ve got fifteen minutes before the meeting starts, so if you want to look around or go grab a seat by the fireplace, I’ll be over there in a few minutes.”

  “Thanks.” Holly pointed to the romance section that was marked off with a heart-shaped sign. “Malia, I’ll be over there.”

  Malia nodded but then just followed Holly to the area. She ran a finger over the books’ spines as she glanced through the authors.

  It was a habit that Rarity shared with the quiet Malia. Touching the book covers as she looked through a stack. She hoped Malia would start talking during the meeting or this was going to be a very long two hours. She moved the cookies over to the table near the window and brought out the coffeepot and lemonade pitcher. In a couple of months, if sales kept increasing, she’d hire a second bookseller to work the store while she ran the meeting. But for now, she was chief cook and bottle washer. Which meant she had to do both.

  The door opened again, and this time it was Shirley with another woman. Rarity waved at her, and the fifty-something blonde hurried over to her, friend in tow.

  “Rarity, this is Kim. She’s just starting her journey, but she’s going to be a survivor, I can tell. Can she sit in on the meeting?” Shirley hugged Rarity like they’d been separated for years, not just a week.

  Welcome to the sisterhood. The cost of joining was just living through a disease that tried to kill you. And you had to wear pink for the rest of your life. (A rule that Rarity ignored since she hated pink.)

  Rarity hadn’t wanted the group to include current patients, mostly because a lot of times, they didn’t know what to think or feel yet. Rarity had tried to make friends with other patients during her treatment, but when she did, it hadn’t turned out well. She’d met a woman for dinner after treatment one week, but all the other woman wanted to talk about was how horrible her medical care had been and Rarity’s estate plan.

  Talking about death like it was inevitable was not a good way to move to a positive attitude about the process. Especially on the first meeting. However, Shirley was so excited about bringing someone, Rarity couldn’t bring herself to say no. “Kim, I’m glad to have you, but you might find a current treatment support group is more helpful. We’re only a book club.”

  Kim shook her head. Her blond hair was cut into a cute curtain bangs look. Rarity’s hair was coming back in curlier than before, so she’d never be able to pull off that look. “I know I’m not a survivor, yet. But I’m going to be. And you all will give me the strength to keep fighting. Besides, I love reading. What better way to spend my time than at a book club?”

  “We’re glad to have you.” Rarity decided she could deal with the fallout later. If Kim wasn’t feeling the group, it wasn’t like she would be forced to stay. And tonight, Rarity needed people in the seats. If only to eat all the treats she’d ordered. “Go get some refreshments, and we’ll be starting in a little while.”

  Rarity watched as the group of four moved into the sitting area by the fireplace. Tonight the weather was still warm, so she wouldn’t be turning on the gas fire, but she could see them using it in the winter months. As long as the book club continued. Rarity shook off the thought, determined to be positive.

  She finished up a few things at the counter and stacked the books she and Shirley had chosen onto the coffee table. She was just about to sit down and call the group to order when a middle-aged woman opened the door to the shop and peeked inside. “Come on in. We’re just getting set up for a book club meeting.”

  The woman looked surprised to be seen, and at first, Rarity thought she was going to shut the door and run, but instead, she swallowed and came inside. She held a clutch purse in front of her like a shield. “Is this the cancer group?”

  “Survivors’ book club, yes. Sounds like you’re in the right place. Do you want some coffee or a snack?” Rarity walked over toward her and held out her hand. “I’m Rarity Cole, bookstore owner and cancer survivor.”

  “Martha. Martha Redding.” She shook Rarity’s hand with a limp grip. She wore no jewelry except a ring that had a nice-sized diamond in the middle. “Coffee would be nice.”

  Rarity pointed over to the table by the window. “Grab a cup and a couple of cookies.”

  Martha walked away toward the coffee, and Rarity moved a sign into the aisle. She’d had it made earlier that week. It read, Book Club in progress. Feel free to browse. Meet me at the counter and ring the bell if you want to buy anything. Brief and to the point. It was time for week two of the book club to start.

  * * * *

  Rarity stood in front of the group. “So nice to see everyone tonight. I want us to go around and introduce ourselves. Include what you want to share, but keep it brief for tonight. We’ve got a lot to get through. I’ll be making notes for my own use, and if you’d add a few things, I’d appreciate it. I need your birthday, month and day only, please. As well as any allergies. I hate to bring peanut butter cookies if you’re allergic. Oh, and the best book you read last year. That should get us started.”

  Shirley raised her hand. “I’ll start since I was here last week.”

  Rarity hid a smile as she wrote down Shirley’s details. The woman just had to remind everyone that she’d been the first. After she was done, Rarity nodded to Kim, who was sitting next to Shirley. “Kim?”

  “I can go last since I’m new.” She glanced around the room, but the others just nodded, encouraging her to continue. “Okay, well, I’m Kim. I’m going through treatment now. I’m not allergic to anything. And the best book I’ve read lately was a vampire romance. I know, cheesy, but I loved it.”

  “We don’t judge anyone on their reading choices. However, I’m not much of a romance reader. I had an unfortunate incident when I started treatment.” Rarity looked up. “You forgot your birthday.”

  “Oh, sorry, May 28.” Kim rattled off.

  “The twins.” Rarity wrote down the info by Kim’s name.

  Kim frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “Gemini, the twins?” Rarity glanced up to see Kim’s face. She looked clueless.

  “Oh, yeah. I’m not much into horoscopes.” Kim broke Rarity’s gaze.

  “You should be,” Malia added. “It will help you so much with scheduling your treatments.”

  Holly put a hand on Malia’s arm. “You’ll have to forgive my woo-woo friend. She believes in checking what your horoscope says before getting dressed in the morning.”

  “I didn’t get sick once during treatment because I listened to the stars.” Malia rolled her eyes and looked away from her friend. Apparently, they’d had this argument before.

  “Anyway, my name is Holly, and I’m a cancer survivor.” She stopped and looked around the room. Waving her arms, she leaned forward, expecting a response from the group. When none came, she groaned. “Come on, guys, this is where you say, ‘Hi, Holly!’ At least that’s the way the twelve-step groups do it.”

  Martha raised her hand. “I thought this was a book club.”

  Rarity stepped in before Martha decided to run out the door. “It is a book club, Holly was just being funny. Go on, Holly. Tell us a bit about you and your favorite book.”

  After Holly spoke, Malia rattled off her information faster than Rarity could write it all down. She didn’t want to embarrass her and ask her to say things a second time. She’d grab her after the meeting. Rarity glanced around the room. Everyone had spoken, except Martha. Rarity turned to the woman. “So, what brings you here, Martha?”

  “That’s my business. Look, I’m here to talk about books, not myself. I really don’t have a sob story to tell, anyway. I’m a widow and live alone.” She pointed to the books on the table. “When are we talking about those?”

  “I realize everyone joins book clubs for different reasons, but this one is a little different. We’ve all been through a life-changing event. I can respect your need for privacy, but you may want to consider if this is the right group for you. We will be talking about what we have in common. A lot.” Rarity put her pen down. “But you’re right, it’s time to choose our book. Let’s vote, and the one with the most votes will be this month’s choice. And we also need to determine if we’re meeting once a week, we might read two books a month and save one meeting for catching up and choosing another book.”

  “Tell us why you don’t like reading romance,” Holly leaned forward. “If that’s not too personal.”

  She’d just told Martha that this was a place to share, so she couldn’t blow off Holly’s question. Live by the sword, die by the sword. She took a deep breath. “Okay, then. I was engaged at the time I was diagnosed. Kevin, that was his name, he didn’t take my situation well. He didn’t like it when I was tired or had appointments scheduled that affected his plans. He never even came to a chemo treatment with me. A month after I started treatments, he dumped me and moved out. So, romance isn’t my favorite type of reading material.” She smiled at the group. “At least not yet.”

  “Fair enough. I was married to the wrong guy when I went through treatment, so that’s why Malia’s friendship meant so much. I was able to have someone to talk to.” Holly smiled in the general direction of her friend. “Besides, I want to open my reading world a little.”

  It took another thirty minutes to choose the book and make a plan for how far each person would be able to read before the next week’s meeting. Holly stood and got the cookie plate and walked it around to everyone while they chatted. Rarity noticed that most of the group members were starting to bond. Except for Martha.

  As they were finishing the group and buying the books, Martha stood first in line to check out. After she’d paid for the book, she hurried out the door. Malia was the next one up in line. She turned and watched Martha climb into her Jeep parked outside next to the large window. “She’s still hurting. The treatments affect us all differently. Some people lock all their feelings up inside and don’t let others see them. It’s like they’re convinced they’re going to die anyway, so why put others through the pain.”

  Rarity thought about Malia’s comments as she locked up the store and slipped the cookies into a plastic sack. Then she put the sack into her tote along with her copy of the Barbara O’Neal book they’d chosen to read first. How to Bake a Perfect Life seemed like an easy choice to get the group started on their new journey.

  She set the alarm and locked the front door, shaking the doorknob to make sure it was locked. She didn’t think anyone would steal books, but they could make a mess while they searched for something of value to pawn. She turned down the street and walked toward home.

  The night was warm, but the overwhelming heat of the day was gone. It was like living in summer year-round. Sometimes she didn’t even remember what month it was until she checked the date on her computer as she worked on bookstore business.

  The streetlamps that lined Main Street were already on, and Rarity could see the televisions on through the windows of houses she walked past. She hadn’t met many of her neighbors on this street. They all either worked out of town, or were retirees who were busy with their own lives. She hadn’t known any of her neighbors when she’d lived in St. Louis, either. The days of the neighborhood block party were probably over. People didn’t gather because of their proximity. Now they gathered because of shared experiences. Like her new book club.