Page 92 of The Wilder Widows

Alice did a spin and high-kicked over the top of the hipster’s head. Her smile couldn’t have been brighter if it was the sun.

“They’re looking for me, ladies. The news said they are looking for Gammy so she can come back and have her own show!”

“What?” we mirrored, and I blinked back at her.

“Are you serious? They aren’t looking for us to throw us in the slammer? We did kidnap someone, you know.” Marge’s stern expression gave off a silent warning, and the hipster beneath us flashed fear at her words.

“No. Not to arrest me. To make me a star!” Alice opened her arms and spun in circles. “I’m going to be a star again!”

“I can’t believe it!” Marge clapped. “You’re going to be a star! And wait! That means we’ll be in Vegas together?”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Alice smiled, then ran forward, pulling us all into a hug while she hopped up and down. “My own show! All I need to do is call them up and tell them I’m Gammy, and I get my own show in Vegas. My dream come true!”

“I’m so happy for you, Alice,” I said, squeezing her tight.

“And you know who else is said to still be living in Vegas?” Alice arched a brow. “Harry Hayes. I think I’ll need to look him up again and give him his own personal show.”

Laughing, I shook my head. It was all working out for all of us.

“Did you still want champagne?” the waitress asked, and we broke apart our group hug.

“Champagne for everyone!” Alice shouted, and the few patrons at the restaurant gave her half-hearted applause.

We hurried back to our table, sliding in one by one. Alice took the cheap bottle of champagne, popping the cork and sending it bouncing off the ceiling. Bubbles poured over the top as she hurried to fill our glasses.

We each grabbed a flute and lifted it into the air.

“Here’s to chasing our dreams,” Alice said.

Doris tipped her against mine. “To our second act.”

“To true love.” I smiled.

“To friendship. To the Wilder Widows.” Marge pushed her flute against ours, and we all smiled.

“Wilder Widows!” we cheered together before taking long swigs of our champagne.

“I can’t believe it’s over,” I said after setting my glass down. “I mean, I know we can’t go on like this forever, but I can’t believe it’s ending.”

A sadness settled over us while the weight of that realization sank in.

“None of us are going back to Wilder Lane.” Marge pursed her lips. “I just realized that.”

“But none of us are selling our houses, right?” I asked, sweeping them with a gaze.

“Right,” they said in unison.

“So, what about this? We promise to visit often, and then what if we agree that one year from now, we all return to Wilder Lane and do this again?”

Three smiles glowed back at me, and they all nodded.

“Alice, do you have the basket?” I asked, and she lit up before reaching into her purse and pulling it out.

“Waitress? Can we get a pen?” I called. She hurried over and set one on the table.

I passed out four drink napkins, then grabbed the pen. After thinking about it for a moment, I lit up when I came up with my wish. I scribbled it on my napkin, folded it up, and dropped it in the basket. Doris, Marge, and Alice took turns writing down their wishes, each one smiling when it disappeared inside the basket.

Alice slid the lid over the top and pushed it to the center of the table. “So, we have a pact? One year from today, we open this up, and no matter what is on that note, we help each other do it?”