Prologue

Aubrey Rae tugged on the dark red door of her shop, fighting the wind that was determined to keep it closed.

The door finally opened enough for her to slip inside, her flowing skirt barely clearing the door before the wind slammed it shut.

“I expect the wicked witch to fly past any minute,” Tess said.

“Don’t even joke about tornadoes.”

Tess looked up from the cell phone, her fingers paused over the letters. “Relax. Who ever heard of a tornado in January?”

Aubrey stuffed her purse behind the counter. “Thought you didn’t like to text?”

“I don’t. But lately it’s the only way I can get my boys to talk to me. How’d it go at the doctor’s?”

Aubrey shrugged, avoiding her friend’s eyes. “You know.” She made a vague motion in Tess’s direction.

“No, I don’t,” Tess said, sounding very much like the mother of teens.

“My creatine’s almost seven.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“They’d like it a little lower.” She didn’t tell Tess that a normal level was around one.

Aubrey hung her coat on a wall hook. “Any buyers?”

“Yeah, I wrote everything down on that pad next to the register.” She put on her own coat and took her purse from behind the counter.

“I’m worried about you, Aubrey. You don’t look good.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“You know what I mean. Your coloring’s not good and you’re puffy. Not to mention you have about as much fizz as a day old soda.”

“I have dialysis tonight.”

Tess paused, her hand on the door knob. “Just take care of yourself, okay?”

The frog motion sensor gave out a loud “Ribbit,” when she opened the door.

“Shit fire. Shit fire.”

Aubrey rolled her eyes at the parrot. “Thanks, Einstein. You’re a big help.”

Einstein had been her grandfather’s parrot. She’d inherited the bird, along with his colorful vocabulary, when her grandfather passed away six months earlier.

She took a peppermint from the little dish on the counter, unwrapped it, and popped it in her mouth. She needed something to ease the dryness and the tight, painful feeling in her throat.

“You might start getting things in order,” her doctor had said that morning. “Just in case we don’t find a kidney in time.”

“Plan my funeral, you mean.”

“I won’t lie to you, Aubrey. There are thousands of people on the list for a kidney. It’s a long wait.”

She knew the parrot would be cared for. Tess’s boys adored Einstein. No problem there. Neither of her brothers was interested in running an antique toy store. She supposed they’d sell the building and its contents, split the money and return to their jobs and their families. Her passing would barely make a ripple in their lives.