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“Yes, but,” Maye pushed the bag towards Sandra. “One: I don’t need a reminder of that event and, two: I don’t appreciate you chatting about my private business all over town. How do you even know about what happened with Randall?”

“Well, everyone saw the livestream, Maye. Tracy made sure of that. It was an out-of-body experience for her, so don’t yuck her yum. The Randall thing…Tracy might have mentioned something in the group chat. Just so we could be sensitive and discrete.”

Maye rolled her eyes.

“She just doesn’t want people around town saying something to upset you because they weren’t caught up on what was happening,” Sandra explained.

“I don’t need you protecting me like that,” Maye said.

“I know. You’re strong. You’re independent. You’re also completely type-A and will pretend nothing is wrong even as your world falls apart around you. I know it’s your life and your private business, but I am who I am! I can’t help it! See something, say something, right?”

“That’s not what that means,” Maye said. “So, tell me about these embarrassing public scenes you’ve experienced.”

“I didn’t say embarrassing. I might have been thinking it, but I didn’t say it,” Sandra winked. “Anywho,” she slid the wine bag towards Maye. “We are all here for you. Lord knows Randall’s family won’t be any help. Not after a shake-up like that.”

“What do you mean? What shake-up?” Maye was confused.

“Randall Sr. selling the land?” Sandra said, as if Maye should know.

Maye leaned in. “What!”

“And not passing the business on to his sons?” Sandra continued.

Maye slapped both hands on the counter. “WHAT!”

“No? None of this rings a bell?” Sandra’s eyes were wide. “How is all this new information to you?”

Maye’s jaw dropped.

“You really have had your head in the sand, Maye.”

Maye collapsed onto her elbows on the countertop. “I mean, I knew his dad had been dangling the hand-off over his head for a long time, and I thought the time was coming when Randall Sr. would officially retire, but I had no idea that something like this was in the works.”

“No one did, from the sound of it. Especially not Randall Jr. So you didn’t know that Randall’s dad had just sold the family business?”

“Not a clue.” Maye buried her head in her hands.

“Randall Jr. never mentioned anything about his future plans outside of the furniture store?”

Maye thought back to conversations she and Randall had recently. “When he talked about work, it was usually him venting, so I would just let him get it off his chest.”

“So you would check out?” Sandra said flatly.

“Well,” Maye paused. She hadn’t really thought of it like that before. “I wouldn’t say I was ‘checked out,’ per se, but maybe I wasn’t as present as I could have been?” Maye shook her head. “So, do you know what happened? What else do you know?”

“Well, well, well. Look who wants the gossip now.”

Maye snarled. “I feel like this is a bit of a unique circumstance, Sandra. Give me a break here.”

“Granted. Unfortunately, that’s all I know.” Sandra reached down and then placed an opened bottle and two glasses on the counter. She poured a drink for each of them and slid one over towards Maye. As Maye reached for the glass, Sandra pulled it back a bit. “No livestreaming.”

“There’s not enough prosecco in this town,” Maye said as she swiped the glass from Sandra.

Maye took the long way home so she could drive by Randall’s family’s furniture store. Part of her was hoping to see a giant “SOLD” sign hanging on the outside of the building along with a detailed explanation of what happened and why Randall Sr. decided to sell. She thought of dropping in to confront Randall Sr. and demand answers, but she had vowed not to end up on the internet again that day, so she just kept driving.

Back at home, Maye dropped her books, food, chocolates, and wine on the dining table next to the empty bags from Mangia and then crashed onto the couch for some deep reflection. The initial shock of the news was fresh, so she wasn’t in a place yet to start making sense of what she had learned. What she was in a place to do, however, was have an absolute freak out. She covered her face with a couch pillow and screamed into it as loudly and deeply as she could while kicking her feet up and down against the couch. When she sat up, she patted down her staticky, frizzy hair, and took a few deep, slow breaths. And then, she called Tracy back.

It was difficult to describe such an egregious set of events while listening to “Winter Wonderland” in the background of the phone call, but Maye powered through.