Rooted (Pagano Family #3)(74)
19
The little silver bell over the door tinkled lightly as Carmen entered Sea Weaver, her old friend Andi’s knitting and weaving shop. Sabina worked there, too, and they’d invited her for lunch at the shop. She hadn’t seen Andi other than in passing since before she’d left for Europe, and she’d been stewing in her own head since she’d fled Maine, so when her friend called and said she’d close up the shop for an hour, Carmen had agreed. She was regretting it now; she wasn’t in the mood for friendship.
As usual, Andi was at her loom in the back. She seemed to be alone. She looked up and smiled as Carmen closed the front door. “Carmie! Look how beautiful you are! Turn the sign over, will you?”
Carmen turned the sign on the door from “Open” to “Closed”—not that it mattered much; shopping traffic was pretty light on an off-season weekday. The weekends weren’t bad during the holidays, but all the merchants in Quiet Cove made their years between May and September, and Carmen knew that included Andi.
As Andi came around her loom, Carmen went to the desk and laid her messenger bag on it. “Where’s Sabina? I thought she was eating with us.”
“She went to get the food—soup and bread from the Cove Café.” Andi hugged her and then kissed both her cheeks. Carmen, who wasn’t generally thrilled with hugs and kisses, bore Andi’s affection with what she hoped was good grace. “Now that I’m up close, you look a little tired. Are you doing okay?”
She missed Theo. She hated Theo. She loved Theo. She wasn’t sleeping. She was sad and lonely and pissed the f*ck off. In general, she hated every f*cking thing. “I’m fine. The baby just wants me to sleep all day.”
Andi nodded sagely. “I have something for you. Hold on.” She walked around and behind the sales desk and opened a drawer. Then she pulled out a little pink, knitted pouch. “Here. Consider it a Christmas gift.”
“We don’t exchange gifts, Andi.” Carmen looked at the pouch with its purple satin drawstring, but she didn’t take it.
“We’re not exchanging. I’m giving. Don’t be rude, Scrooge.” Andi hefted the bag lightly in her hand. “C’mon.”
With a sigh, Carmen took the pouch and opened it. Into her hand she poured a silver necklace—a simple chain with four small, caged stones linked in a row at the front. “Oh, it’s pretty.” Knowing that stone and crystals were more than merely pretty to Andi, Carmen looked up at her friend. “So what do they supposedly do?”
Andi leaned on the counter and lifted the necklace out of Carmen’s hand. She fingered the first stone in the row, a simple pink crystal. “It’s a pregnancy chain, to help bring you to a place to be strong to nurture and deliver your child. This is rose quartz—just a good, strong, general good feeling and health stone. Its aura is like a hug.” She moved to the second stone, mottled dark red and green, like Christmas. “This is unakite. It’s a strong grounding stone, to bring you peace and balance and to cleanse negative energy. It strengthens courage and confidence, and encourages union and strong bonds.” The third stone was opaque, nearly white. “This is moonstone. Every woman should keep moonstone close. It’s the stone of the Divine Feminine. Nothing is more divinely feminine than pregnancy and childbirth.” She picked up the fourth stone, banded brown and dark red. “And this last is—”
“—jasper,” Carmen finished. “It’s a healing stone.”
Andi grinned proudly. “Yes! It’s known as the nurturing stone. It brings comfort and eases stress during trying times. It promotes physical and emotional healing after trauma, and it helps us prepare to face challenges.”
Without warning, Carmen broke into tears.
“Oh, honey!” Andi rushed around the desk and pulled Carmen into her arms. This time, Carmen didn’t need to simply tolerate it. Her f*cking hormones were all over the place, and she was so damned miserable she could barely stand upright, so she sort of fell into Andi’s embrace. Her friend was taller even than she was—a full six feet—and substantial. Carmen settled against her prodigious bosom and laid her head on her soft shoulder. Andi always smelled of sandalwood and patchouli, and as Carmen sobbed and clung to her friend, she began to feel calm leach into her body with every inhale. Maybe there was something to that aromatherapy nonsense after all.
The door opened and the bell tinkled while Carmen and Andi were embracing. Carmen stepped quickly back, swiping at her eyes, feeling exposed and angry at herself for dissolving into a weepy puddle like that. Andi patted her arm and went to help Sabina with the lunch she’d brought back.
Sabina gave Carmen a perceptive once-over, but she didn’t pry. She simply smiled and brought the tray of soups over to the desk. “We have pumpkin soup, minestrone, and chowder. A loaf of pumpernickel and a plain French loaf.” She nodded to the pink box Andi had taken from her. “And Edith gave us a chocolate silk pie, too.”
“Wow,” Carmen said around her lingering sniffles. “That sounds delicious.” She held out her hand to Andi, who knew what she meant right away. She smiled and, instead of handing her the necklace, stepped behind her. Carmen lifted her hair, and Andi fastened the chain at the nape of her neck.
Carmen didn’t believe that stones had mystical qualities. But she believed in the power of love and friendship, and she felt better with the weight of the pretty stones on her collarbones.