Free Barefoot Season by Susan Mallery

hug. I’m going home.”
Michelle stood, then winced as the fire surged through her and she nearly lost her balance.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. My hip.”
“Don’t you have something you can take?”
“I’d rather not.” She’d rather drink.
Damaris put her hands on her hips. “You were always stubborn. You must get that from your dad. Take something. I’ll wait.”
Determination gleamed from behind her glasses, telling Michelle this wasn’t a battle of wills she was going to win. Besides, by the time she got back to her motel room, the pill would have worn off and she would be able to drink as much as she wanted.
“Fine,” she grumbled, then reached for her backpack. She fished out the prescription bottle and swallowed a pill. “Happy?”
“Always.”
* * *
     
Michelle kept Carly waiting for two days. Despite the fact that they were spending their workdays in the same building, they seemed to be skilled at avoiding each other.
Carly spent her time alternating between wondering if she should start packing up and praying she didn’t have to go. She was able to fake it enough with Gabby that her daughter didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong.
Ann had asked to come in late, so Carly was in the gift shop at lunch on Thursday. Several customers were browsing the book section while a teenage girl and her mother sighed over the dolls. Carly rang up a teapot, then wrapped it.
“I hope your friend loves it,” she said as she handed over the package. “It’s beautiful.”
“I think so, too,” the middle-aged tourist said. “Have a nice day.”
Carly gave her a friendly wave, then turned and nearly ran into Michelle, who had apparently crept silently into the store. Carly had to jump back and steady herself on the counter.
“You have a minute?” Michelle asked.
Carly glanced toward the customers. “I shouldn’t leave them.”
Michelle eyed the few people looking around. She pointed to the alcove by the rear storage room. “What about there?”
Carly nodded. She could see the cash register and know if anyone was ready to check out.
She crossed to the doorway. Michelle followed more slowly, her gait uneven, her hip obviously troubling her. Carly wanted to ask how she was, but held the words inside. For all she knew, she was about to be fired. Again. Showing compassion in the face of that seemed to be giving away the grain of power she had left.
She hadn’t decided if she was going to plead her case or accept her fate with dignity. Two nights of sweating her bank balance had done nothing to improve her lack of a bottom line and going through the Seattle paper hadn’t given her much in the way of job options.
As Carly leaned against the door frame, she saw that Michelle looked more tired than she had when she’d first arrived. Lines of weariness and pain pulled at her mouth. Dark smudges shadowed her eyes and there was a gray cast to her skin. Her long hair hung limp, and if she lost any more weight, her cargo pants were going to slip off her skinny hips.
Michelle braced herself against the wall.
“Do you need to sit?” Carly asked, then wanted to smack herself for asking.
Michelle shook her head. “I’m fine.”
She was a lot of things, but fine wasn’t one of them. Carly told herself this wasn’t the time to remember that, years ago, Michelle had been her best friend in the world. That they’d grown up together until ugliness had ripped them apart. Still, she wanted to connect with her former friend, to talk about all that had happened, to find a common middle ground. To heal, she thought wistfully. Closure and something positive out of this mess would be nice.
“You’re not stealing.”
Michelle made the pronouncement with the ease of someone sharing facts about the weather. Carly’s head jerked, as if she’d been slapped. All the warm, gooey feelings evaporated until she was left with anger and the knowledge that she was a down-to-the-bone idiot for expecting anything close to