Part 2

“I grew up in a small town and wanted to get back to that life,” Oriana said, focusing on keeping her voice steady. “I like the quiet.”

“You definitely came to the right place. There is nothing here.”

“You’ve been here your whole life?”

“Me and everyone else. You’re born here, and you die here. Some of the highway cops are from elsewhere, of course. There’s a new rookie,” Brooke said, hip-checking Oriana, “in case you are looking for a sweet somebody.”

“I’m good.” Oriana tugged her sleeves down to cover a flash of skin. “How far is the curling rink?”

“On the other side of town.”

“Won’t we be late?”

Brooke laughed and lifted her chin. “It’s that building over there. Right beside the pool.”

“I didn’t know Spruce Valley had a pool.”

“Outdoor. It’s great, but on hot days, you need to get there first thing because all the city folk flock here.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s really nice. Three waterslides and everything. Hey, we should go this summer.” Brooke hip-checked Oriana again.

“Thanks, but I’m good. I’m not much of a water person.” She pictured the sun throwing sparkles off her wet body, and she wrapped her arms around herself in a hug.

“At the very least, we could lounge in the pool chairs. Who knows… maybe the rookie cop will be there.”

Oriana forced a smile and nodded.

They pushed through the doors of the curling rink and Brooke showed Oriana the boot cleaner. “Hey, Oriana,” a woman said as the machine whirled away pop and grime. “Ready to destroy the pharmacy staff?”

“Pardon me?” Oriana turned but the woman was already through the second set of doors and in the rink.

“Clean enough,” Brooke said and pulled Oriana through the same doors.

Four sheets stretched the length of the building – two with ice and two of bare concrete, and the air tingled Oriana’s face as though they were still outside. The ceiling curved overhead, championship banners hung on the walls, and voices bounced around the space in an echoing jumble.

“Here,” Brooke said, holding out a couple of floppy pieces of rubber.

“What’s that?”

“Grippers. You put them over your shoes so you don’t slip. You can borrow my extra slider, though. No one knows what happened to the club ones.”

“You guys don’t flood all the lanes?” Oriana asked as she squeezed her shoe into a gripper.

“Sheets. And we used to, but our scraper is on the fritz. Doug owns the hardware store and is a part-time mechanic. He fixed the scraper enough to do the job but figures it’ll last longer if we only have two sheets going. We had to finagle the schedule a bit to make it work but at least we can still curl.”

“Oriana!” A woman Oriana vaguely recognized waved a broom in their direction and wandered over. She threw her arms around Oriana, crushing the air from her while floral perfume drifted around them. “Glad you could join us,” the woman said, releasing her death hug. A seam along the inside of Oriana’s shirt caught just below her armpit and she shimmied her arm until the fabric let go.

“Fred apologized for not being here but with the seed sale, he said he had no choice. He could probably do it all online, but you know Fred… everything has to be in person. Honestly though, you’ll probably rock curling and completely replace him.” The woman winked, wrinkled face crinkling and pink lipstick stretched in a grin. “Pun intended. Anyhoo, how’s Sal’s going? I hear they had you clean out the grease traps on your second day.”