Chapter Three
The guy wasn’t there.
Kate was supposed to meet her contact from Airbnb at 3:30. She’d showed. He hadn’t. He also wasn’t answering his phone. Damn.
Because she had absolutely nowhere else to be, she put down the tailgate of her truck and took a seat. The downtime allowed her the chance to take in the neighborhood. Even Venice, as laid back as it seemed, was faster paced than Slumberton. But, of course, it would be. Everything is when your town is literally named after sleep.
The best part about Venice? She didn’t know these people. Not the ones who ambled past with surfboards or whizzed by on Rollerblades. A group of girls across the street held shopping bags from one of those tourist places that lined the beach. She didn’t know them either, and that was exactly the point of her sojourn. The realization hit her, and a ghost of a smile touched her lips, the first real one in quite a while. As long as she didn’t let her mind wander too far, she’d be fine. Escapism was what she needed.
“Did you know you’re in a tow-away zone?”
Kate swiveled. Standing there on the sidewalk was a woman with curly red hair that fell partially across green eyes. Pretty ones. “What’s that?”
“Your truck.” The redhead pointed up at the sign indicating the times of day one could and could not park on that section of the street. Apparently, Kate was in violation. “It’s before six.”
“Oh. Gotcha. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“No problem.” But the redhead didn’t leave. She stood there, watching. Kate knew because she could feel her stare against the side of her face. “But you’re not moving. I only say anything because the cops around here are militant about illegal parking. Neighborly thing, you know.”
“Cool. You’re nice for telling me.”
The woman nodded. “Sure.” She walked on, turned back a moment, and then continued on her way. Kate watched her walk, enjoying the subtle sway of her hips. Feminine if not a touch sassy. She could never pull off sassy. Not that she wanted to.
“Hey! What’s your name?” she called after the woman, shocked to hear the words leave her lips.
The redhead turned back, intrigue crisscrossing her features as if trying to work the puzzle that was Kate. “I’m Autumn. Who are you?”
“Kate Carpenter.”
“Well, Kate Carpenter,” she called, “I predict you have another ten minutes until that truck is snatched from beneath you by the po-po. Would be a shame, too. You guys look good together.”
Kate placed a hand over her heart and grinned. “I’m touched by your depth of care.”
“You’re a cheeky one, aren’t you?” Autumn said, pointing at her and walking backward. “Don’t dawdle, now.”
“Wouldn’t want to dawdle,” Kate murmured to herself with a smile. Venice wasn’t so bad. She hopped off the tailgate, closed the back, and with a final wave to Autumn stepped into the cab. The short exchange felt like a badly needed exhale from the events of the past few months. Nowhere in the two-minute back and forth did someone look at her with pity, or hero worship, or ask with a heavy heart how she was doing. Yep. This was exactly what she needed. “Helloooo, Venice,” she said quietly, and threw a final glance at Autumn’s retreating form.
After finally getting in touch with her contact at Airbnb, he directed her to a small lot marked Seven Shores Residents Only where she could leave her truck. The unit she’d rented was described as relatively basic, but honestly that’s all she required. True to the photos online, it was fully furnished and decorated in a navy and white nautical theme, complete with a life preserver hanging on the wall with the words “All Aboard” painted around its perimeter. “It’s perfect,” she said to the landlord, an intense guy by the name of Larry Herman. The series of pens sticking out of his shirt pocket were just heartbreaking for his dating prospects. She wanted to offer him a beer just to see if he’d ever relax.
“So, what do you want with it?” he asked Kate, staring her down.
“I’m sorry? I’m not following you.”
“Why are you renting an apartment on Airbnb? Are you homeless? On vacation?” He paused as a new and alarming thought seemed to hover. “A criminal?” he asked, in a menacing tone.
“I’m a firefighter on leave, looking for some downtime. That’s about it.”
“Oh,” he said, straightening like a flagpole. “Well, that’s boring.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“Do you know what will disappoint me, Miss Carpenter? You not taking care of my unit. Or hosting any loud parties.”
“Lay off, Larry. The routine is getting old.”
He turned to reveal a brunette in her twenties sitting on a couch in the shared courtyard, a laptop on her knees. “This is none of your concern, Ms. Chase.”
“It’s Isabel, Larry. Call me Isabel. Same name as the last fifty times we’ve spoken.”
“I’ll stick with Ms. Chase, thank you.”
She sighed. “You coming back to the complex later this week for Had’s thing? You could do some sashaying and regale us with tales from your war reenactments. I never did hear if Washington made it out alive this time around.”
“He always makes it out alive. It’s a reenactment of actual events, which means it has the same outcome.” He seemed a little worked up about the whole thing.
“Oh,” Isabel said, smirking. “Fingers crossed for his chances next time.” She was playing this guy like a fiddle and enjoying it. Kate was, too.
A pause. Larry took a step forward. “Did you say Hadley is having one of her gatherings?” Larry asked. The mention of this Hadley person seemed to perk him right up.
Isabel nodded. “One of her theme nights. I think this one is in dedication to Groundhog Day. She bought top hats for everyone to wear. Last I heard she was attempting to rent a groundhog.”
He seemed perplexed and a little annoyed. “Groundhog Day was two months ago. It would be unorthodox to celebrate now.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t care. Have you met Hadley?” Isabel didn’t wait for his answer. She looked around Larry and offered Kate a wave. “Hey, there. Don’t worry about this guy. He’s harmless. Aren’t you, you weird and endearing little man?”
Larry scowled. “I’m not little. I’m over six feet tall.”
She shook her head as if amazed. “I keep making that mistake, don’t I?”
He glared. “I tend to make mistakes, too. Like forgetting to fill repairs on just one of my first-floor units, Ms. Chase.”
“I enjoy your threats, Larry,” Isabel said, smiling. “We should play Ms. Pac-man soon.”
“I’ll be by on Thursday.”
“Done.”
He turned back to Kate. “Sorry about that.”
She shrugged. “I’m good. It’s okay.”
“Per our agreement, you have the unit for one month. Let me know if you wish to extend. It’s been very popular.” Without another word, the guy turned and left, walking as if on a mission, but then she had a feeling he always walked that way. She glanced at Isabel and inclined her head in the direction of Larry’s retreating form. “Thanks. For the intervene.”
“No problem. He can be a lot. Good rule of thumb is don’t take the guy seriously, and bring up the name Hadley as much as possible.” Isabel set her laptop on the coffee table and pointed at an upstairs apartment in the corner. “She lives there. He’s madly in love with her but doesn’t fully realize it.”
“Hadley. Got it.” She glanced behind her into the unit. “Should maybe be writing this down.”
Isabel waved her off. “You’ll be fine. This is an easy place to be. Everyone is super chatty, though, and I will admit that it caught me off guard at first. Consider yourself warned. In fact, I’m doing it now, which is kind of unlike me. I should shut the hell up.”
Kate grinned. “I don’t mind. It does seem like a nice place.”
The outdoor courtyard was clean, well-kept, and surrounded by the white building trimmed with black shutters. In the center sat several wrought iron tables and chairs, next to a more comfortable area made up of outdoor couches with bright green cushions, the kind of place you’d want to spend time. Kate had lots of that.
“The quiet, scary guy who lived in your unit moved, so Larry had it furnished and is renting it out on Airbnb as a business experiment. We’ve seen a variety come through. I don’t miss the bongo drums woman from three stays back.”
“I can imagine. Kate, by the way.”
“Isabel Chase. Nice to meet you.” She picked up her laptop. “So, what brings you to Venice for the month? I mean besides all the naked people on the beach.” She held up a hand. “Kidding. There are only like four naked people. The rest are half-naked.”
Kate took a moment, unsure how to answer the original question. She needed to figure that out because it was likely one she would hear a lot. “Have you ever just needed space from…life?”
“Big time. Every day I was alive. I just never had the funds to do anything about it until recently.”
Kate nodded, feeling a little uncomfortable. “I had some time off and some cash socked away. Literally in a sock.”
Isabel seemed to enjoy that. “And here I thought that was just a cliché.”
“I’m from a small town. Most clichés are based on our reality.”
Without delay, Isabel set to typing. “I’m stealing that line. I hope you don’t mind. In fact, I’m stealing it even if you do. It’s that good.” She pointed at her own face. “Writer. You?”
“Firefighter.”
“Shut up.”
“Sorry?”
Isabel held out her hand. “No. I didn’t mean actually shut up—it’s a phrase, a way of—you know what? Never mind.”
Kate walked over to the couch. “Try me.”
“Okay. But I don’t want you to think I’m hitting on you, because I’m wildly in love with someone else, but I say shut up because you’re very attractive and a firefighter, and now I’m the cliché myself, but”—she glanced around, leaned forward, and dropped her pitch—“that’s a killer combo. You’re going to do well here. It’s just math.”
Kate nodded. The job did tend to get her extra attention, a few extra phone numbers at the bar, but she wasn’t looking to get involved. “I’m just trying to keep things simple. Sit in the sun. Read a book. Explore the neighborhood. That kinda thing.”
Isabel nodded. “A standard vacation. You’ve come to the right place. Welcome to Seven Shores, Firewoman Kate. Or is it fireperson? I never know.”
“Firefighter works for me.”
“Do you play Pac-Man?”
Kate took a second with that one. “I could try.”
“Bonus. I like you already.”
It had been a nice welcome to what would be her home for the foreseeable weeks. The complex was perfect, she’d flirted with a woman on the street, and she’d even made friends with one of her neighbors. Bolstered by the relief that this had been the right move, Kate headed inside to unpack, pop a beer, and catch her breath for the first time in a long while.
* * *
Autumn had been sitting at La Palmita, the little Mexican restaurant she and her mother had been coming to for, well, her whole life, for just over forty-five minutes. Alone. She smiled at Esperanza, the owner, and did her best to project fine, happy, and not at all stood up by the very woman who gave birth to her.
“I’ll bring more chips,” Esperanza said, and took the bowl Autumn had singlehandedly mainlined as she waited. And waited. And did some more waiting.
“I’m sure she’ll be here soon,” Autumn called after her to not seem like a total loser. “Probably just stuck in traffic. You know LA at this time of day.”
Esperanza smiled but exchanged a disappointed look with the bartender. This woman knew her life too damn well. Autumn had always admired Esperanza, her restaurant and sense for business. In fact, she’d been a big part of Autumn’s inspiration when she’d opened Pajamas. The customers at La Palmita looked up to Esperanza. Liked her, respected her, and she took time with each one of them. Autumn had wanted that for herself and hoped she’d achieved at least a little bit of what Esperanza had. Autumn smiled at her friend and mentor as she approached.
“Here you go,” Esperanza said, and placed another bowl of freshly made chips on the table. She seemed to have personally taken over for the waiter Autumn began with.
“Thanks, Ez, but you don’t have to wait on me.”
“I do what I want,” Esperanza said in a sassy, authoritative tone.
It made Autumn laugh despite the awkward wait.
This was to be her birthday dinner, which was already weeks late. Her mother, who had asked Autumn to call her Vicky when she’d entered the second grade, hadn’t had time to get together with her before that night. Why? Autumn had no idea. Vicky didn’t work and instead floated from one wealthy male companion to another, expecting them to support her financially, until the inevitable breakup when she came to Autumn for money. Though she couldn’t count on Vicky herself, she could certainly depend upon her pattern. Suffice it to say, she and Vicky didn’t share many of the same values, and definitely not the same work ethic. She tried Vicky’s phone again.
“I’m here! I’m here!” Vicky yelled, upon answering. “Just slipping into some sassy heels in the parking lot, and then I will scoot my patootie inside to kiss my baby girl on her birthday.”
“It’s not actually my birthday,” Autumn said. “That was a while ago.”
“Close enough. See you in a sec!”
It wasn’t that close at all, but Autumn let that fact slide.
Ten minutes later, Vicky walked into La Palmita as if she were the queen herself, waving and smiling at the patrons and kissing Esperanza on the cheek like they were long-lost best friends. Esperanza, to her credit, seemed to tolerate, if not return, the affection. Vicky sure knew how to draw attention to herself. That part wasn’t new. It hadn’t been easy being known as the one with the “sexy mom” when Autumn was in high school.
“There’s my baby doll,” Vicky said, and kissed Autumn on the cheek. She wore a brightly colored pink and yellow dress, as always showcasing enough cleavage to draw stares. Her bleached blond hair looked like it had been professionally blown out recently, as in an hour ago. “This girl needs a cocktail. You feeling like a cocktail?”
“Sure. Why not?” Autumn said, conservatively.
Vicky didn’t happen to mention that she was close to an hour late. No apology. No explanation. That’s just how Vicky rolled. Autumn knew better than to push the issue or she’d wind up apologizing herself when her mother flipped the whole thing and made herself the victim in the story. Their dysfunctional pattern wasn’t hard to learn and sidestep. Life was too short to try and reason with her. She’d learned that lesson a long time ago. These days, Autumn strived for self-preservation.
Vicky tossed a glance behind her. “Esperanza, we’re going to need some strong margaritas over here! We’re celebrating tonight!”
Autumn winced at Vicky’s loud mouth and privileged demeanor. “Hey, maybe don’t yell. She’ll get around to us soon. The place is busy tonight.”
“Well, I’m thirsty. I don’t know about you.” And there it was. I’m thirsty. It was the perfect example of how Vicky approached any given situation. It was always what she needed, or wanted, or was deprived of that mattered most. Screw everyone else. The rest of the world was made up of merely supporting actors on Vicky’s self-involved stage. In her mind, Autumn should be content waiting over an hour for Vicky as long as she arrived eventually. Esperanza should rush off and bring her drink immediately upon her arrival. It was simply how she approached life.
The rest of Autumn’s “birthday dinner” went much the same way. Vicky talked all about her newest guy, Rocco, a financier from back east. By the time Autumn had polished off her plate of flautas, because honestly, she hadn’t gotten a word in, she could have told you Rocco’s favorite television show, his shoe size, and what kind of women he was drawn to.
When the bill arrived, Vicky finally shifted her focus. “So, tell me about you! What’s new?”
Autumn opened her mouth to answer. She’d wanted to share her plans to become a mother, which was a huge step, but hadn’t imagined she’d be cramming the information into their last few moments together. Still, this was the only real family she had in her life, and she wanted to share her news. Cue her nerves. “Well, there is something, actually.”
“Oh, my God! Did you see Olivia’s wedding photos?” Vicky exclaimed, and tossed her napkin onto the table. “I saw them on Facebook this week and just about died. She was absolutely the most beautiful bride! And those flowers!”
Autumn took a second to recover from the gut punch. “I did see them. Olivia had a wonderful wedding. What I was going to say a minute ago, though—”
“It makes me sad, though, too,” Vicky said, plowing right ahead. “I want to be the mother of the bride at a wedding like that. I wonder if I’ll ever have that chance. Are you dating at all?” Again, right back to her needs. “Rocco has some nice men that work for him. I could arrange an introduction.”
“Men? Vicky, I haven’t dated men since the Clinton administration. You know that. Why are we doing this again?”
“I just don’t think you should close your mind to the idea. Double your options, you know? Lots of handsome boys out there who would kill for a crack at a date with you. After all, you are my daughter.” Another thing: Vicky never understood or fully accepted Autumn’s sexuality. While she’d always been pleasant enough to the women Autumn dated, she seemed to hope Autumn was merely going through a phase. Vicky couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around the idea that men wouldn’t be everyone’s focus in life.
“Not gonna happen,” Autumn said, and sat back in her chair.
“Fine. A nice girl, then. You decide.”
“Thank you.” Autumn attempted to steer them back on course. “And speaking of my future—”
“Sweetie, can you get this one?” Vicky asked, sliding the check across the table. “It’s been a tight month.” Not for getting your hair blown out, it hasn’t. Autumn swallowed the thought and laid down a credit card. Not a big deal in the scheme of life to pay for your own birthday dinner. Still, it left her feeling melancholy and small.
“It was great seeing you, sweetie.” Vicky stood and kissed Autumn’s cheek before they’d even had a chance to settle up and walk out together. “You can take care of the rest, can’t you? I hate to cut out early, but I’m meeting Rocco across town, and traffic is awful. We’re going dancing!” She twisted her wrists in the air and gave her hips a shake to demonstrate. The nearby table stared.
“Great seeing you, too,” Autumn said quietly, and watched her mother sashay her way out of the restaurant for somewhere better.
“Happy birthday, Autumn,” Esperanza said, and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Dinner is on the house tonight, and sopaipillas are on their way. My treat.”
She looked up in surprise. “Oh, no. I couldn’t let you do that. Please let me pay.”
Esperanza’s eyes carried warmth. “Your money is no good here. I’m just happy to see you in my restaurant.”
“Thanks, Ez.”
She turned to go and then hesitated. “She’s a handful, your mother.”
She tried for a smile and failed. “Don’t I know it.”
Another late-birthday dinner was in the books. She had survived it, and as far as Vicky went, Autumn would expect a call for cash in the next one to three weeks. In fact, she’d set her clocks by it.
“I’ll say one thing for her, she raised an amazing daughter.”
Autumn felt the smile blossom. “Thanks, Ez.” She looked up at the woman who’d been more of a mother to her than her own mother would ever be, grateful as always that she’d been there to pick her up when she was low. They ate the sopaipillas together and caught up on all of the details of each other’s lives. It was the kind of exchange she secretly longed for with Vicky, as unrealistic as that was. She used to fantasize as a kid that her mother would take her to the park to play, and afterward they’d go out for ice cream sundaes. Ludicrous, in the scheme of who Vicky really was. She was lucky if she’d remember to pick her up from school at a reasonable hour.
Autumn would be a better parent, she vowed then and there. She would be present, and kind, and interested, and active in the life of her child. She’d be like Esperanza.
It hadn’t been the moment she’d planned on, or imagined, but she now knew who she wanted to share her big decision with.
She set down her fork. “Hey, Ez. I have something I want to tell you.”
* * *
“I miss Gia,” Autumn said wistfully. It was close to closing at Pajamas, and Isabel and Hadley had dropped in to keep her company while she worked. She’d put on some Stevie Wonder, which seemed to send her to her happy place. Since the place was virtually empty, she’d sent her last employee home. “She’s been gone so much lately. When is she back from the tour again?”
Isabel looked at Hadley from where she sat upon the counter. “I think she just said we’re boring.”
Hadley nodded. “She most certainly did, which can’t be true. I’m interesting and a good listener.”
“I’m sarcastic and witty.”
“I throw fun parties and advise on fashion.”
Autumn threw up a hand. “All right, all right. You’re both pretty. You’re both worthy. You can both go to the ball.”
Isabel and Hadley clinked their mugs in solidarity. “But you’re driving,” Isabel said. “I plan to get wasted and lose the prince.”
“Fine,” Hadley sighed. “Let’s drop him at the 7-Eleven.” She turned to Autumn. “But to answer your question, the tournament wraps Friday night, so we should get G back on Sunday.”
Autumn smiled. “Then all will be right with the world again. I don’t like it when one of you is MIA. Feels like I left my house without my pants.”
“That could bring in more business,” Isabel said. “Just sayin’ it’s something to consider.”
“You’re such a mother hen,” Hadley said, pointing at Autumn. “Which bodes well for your baby-making scheme.”
“It’s not a scheme, it’s a life choice,” Autumn corrected, pulling pastries from the display case for refrigeration. “But I’ll take all the encouragement I can get.”
“Your life choice is taking too long,” Hadley lamented. “I’m ready to be Auntie Hadley already, kissing baby bellies and leading toddler parades through the courtyard.”
“Really?” Isabel deadpanned. “You’re going with Auntie?”
“I am.” Hadley said brightly, and wandered behind the counter. She picked up a scoopful of roasted coffee beans and let them fall from the scoop to her hand, taking a deep inhale. “Speaking of arrivals, I finally met the dreamy firewoman. She’s just like you said, Iz. I got swoony in my knees.”
“Who’s the dreamy firewoman?” Autumn asked, returning for another handful of pastries. “And why haven’t I heard about her? Don’t hoard all the gossip.”
Isabel leapt off the counter and swiveled. “Stop. You haven’t met her yet? She’s been here almost a week. She’s renting Larry’s Airbnb unit. I’m not sure where she’s from yet, but she’s hot and broody. Dark hair. Kinda quiet. Very attractive.”
“And a firefighter,” Hadley emphasized, fanning herself.
“She fights fires. Actual ones, not just the TV kind,” Isabel said, opening and closing her hands in a grabbing gesture.
“You two are in rare form. Hand me the nutmeg?” Autumn asked Isabel, who obliged.
“Oh, and she drives a blue pickup,” Hadley said. “I saw her drive off in it the other day. Completes the package for me.”
Autumn paused. “Nancy Drew, did you say a pickup truck?”
Hadley nodded. “I did. And I like being called Nancy Drew. Do it more.”
Autumn kicked her hip against the counter. “Then I take it back. We have met. Kate is her name, if my memory serves.”
Isabel shrugged. “Yes. If you want to call her Kate, sure, we can do that. I’m guessing you think hot-brooding-firefighter is too long. I’m open to criticism.”
Autumn reflected on the woman she saw sitting on the tailgate of her pickup a week or so ago. “She doesn’t look like a firewoman. She’s too…beautiful.”
Isabel inclined her head to the side. “I don’t think they’re rated on a scale of ugly to take-me-home-right-now. Could inspire a lawsuit.”
Hadley nodded. “And no one wants a lawsuit. Can you imagine the—”
They turned at the sound of the door, and speak of the devil, there stood Kate herself. Just like that, three talkative women dropped into stark silence. Kate seemed to notice and glanced behind her in confusion and then back. “Oh. I’m sorry. If you’re closed, I can go.”
Hadley launched into an insta-smile, as if thrust into a surprise beauty pageant. “We were just talking about the injustice that is global warming. My friends and I were. Just now.”
“Damn that La Niña!” Isabel said, not missing a beat. “Such a bitch.”
“Isabel feels strongly on the issue,” Hadley said, nodding matter-of-factly.
“I can tell. So, is this place still open?” Kate asked, hesitantly. Her hair was tucked behind one ear and fell past her shoulders. Her eyes were hazel, strikingly so, and they shone extra bright from all the way across the room. Her skin was olive, but not from a tan. No, that was natural.
“For ten more minutes,” Autumn told her. “What can I get you?”
Kate glanced at the menu board. “Decaf coffee. House roast would be great.”
Autumn easily scooped up a paper cup. “You’re in luck. My custom blend.” She glanced at Kate as she moved to pour the coffee and found Kate staring at her. In response, she smiled and stared back. And whoa. What was that passing between them? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hadley and Isabel exchange a glance, only she couldn’t be bothered with why, because Kate’s presence sent the warmest shiver right down her spine. She wiggled slightly against it, enjoying its dance.
“Hey, Autumn?” Hadley asked quietly.
“Yeah?”
“The coffee. For Kate.”
“Right,” she said, calmly. “On it.”
Kate followed her down the counter where she poured the hot cup and fastened a to-go lid. She offered a lazy smile. “So, I had no idea that you worked here.”
“She owns here,” Isabel supplied.
Kate nodded. “Or that. Very cool.” She accepted the coffee and handed over a credit card.
“Kate Carpenter,” Autumn read off the card, reminding herself of Kate’s last name. “Well, welcome to our little community, Kate Carpenter.”
“Thanks. Are you here tomorrow?”
“We’re here every day,” Autumn said automatically, all the while noting that Kate came with a lot of presence. The room felt smaller with her in it. Autumn’s senses shifted into overdrive, and every little detail of the shop seemed amplified. The smooth texture of the counter beneath her fingertips. The hum of the overhead lights. The whispering of her friends in the corner. Autumn found the whole experience rather astounding.
“No,” Kate said. “I meant will you be here tomorrow.”
“Oh,” Autumn said, leaving her mouth in that shape for an extra beat.
“I stopped by two days ago and it was just a kid behind the counter. No you.”
Isabel and Hadley slowly lowered themselves into chairs. The only thing that would have made the picture more complete would have been tubs of popcorn in their laps.
“I will be here tomorrow.”
“Good. Then me too.” Another two-way stare, a scorching one, ensued and the air around Autumn heated considerably. “’Night, everyone. Autumn.” Kate made her way to the door and out into the night. Autumn and her friends turned to one another.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Hadley said quietly.
“Have to agree.” Isabel nodded. “That was noteworthy.”
“So, not just me?” Autumn asked.
“Definitely not,” Isabel said. “She wanted to put out your fire, Autumn. And I think you started one in her, too.”
Hadley grinned and pointed at the door. “That woman right there is your walking alarm clock.”
“My alarm clock?” Autumn asked.
Hadley walked to the counter and regarded Autumn. “What was your new goal? The one you described to me on the trip back from Tahoe.”
Autumn met her gaze with a knowing smile. “It’s time to start living.”
Isabel folded her arms. “Let the living commence.”