Unsung by Shannon Richard Page B

looked at her two best friends everything hit her. The sob that broke out of her mouth a second later was one she couldn’t hold back any longer. The two women converged on her, wrapping her up in their arms as she lost it.
    “We’re here, Harp,” Mel whispered as she rubbed her hand up and down Harper’s back.
    “Always will be,” Grace said.
    When Harper managed to somewhat rein herself back in, she pulled away from their embrace.
    Grace reached behind her and grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter. “Please tell us what’s going on.”
    “Yeah. Is it Brad?” Mel asked.
    Harper took the tissue, shaking her head. “No. It’s something else… someone else.”
    “Someone?”
    “When… what ?” Grace’s eyebrows bunched in confusion.
    Harper didn’t have a chance to answer either of her friends’ questions when the bathroom door opened.
    Abby Fields walked in, a streak of green icing on her cheek and bits of cake in her auburn hair. Abby was Paige’s best friend—had been since both women were five years old—and was now an honorary member of the close-knit girls in Mirabelle. She was actually a recent transplant to Florida herself, though she lived about three and a half hours east in Jacksonville.
    The woman was busy, there was no doubt. She was about two months into her new job running the PR department for St. Ignatius, one of the top hospitals in the south and her new official relationship with a now Stanley Cup winner Logan James. The Stampede had just won two days ago, but Abby had taken a break from the celebrations to come to the shower.
    Abby took in the scene in front of her, her steps faltering as she walked into the bathroom. “Trevor discovered the cake table,” she explained.
    “Ahh,” all three women said as they took a step back from the sinks to make room.
    Grace excused herself to one of the stalls, while Harper washed her hands and Mel fiddled with her short blond curls in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.
    Abby made quick work at the sink, cleaning herself up and unsnapping her purse to pull out her compact. She touched up her makeup before she turned to Harper, a bottle of eyedrops in her hand. “Allergies sure have been a bitch this year.”
    “Thanks.” Harper managed a watery smile as she grabbed the bottle.
    “No problem. And keep it.” Abby nodded to the bottle before she reached out, touching Harper’s hand lightly, and then headed out of the bathroom.
    Harper tilted her head back and put a few drops into each eye, grabbing another tissue and dabbing at the new stream of moisture on her face.
    “Okay,” Grace said as she came out of the bathroom stall and started washing her hands in the sink. “Start talking.”
    “Can we not do this here? Please?” Harper shook her head, doing everything in her power to hold back the fresh wave of tears that threatened.
    She knew she needed to tell them. That she actually wanted to tell them. To talk to her best friends and tell them everything that was going on. She just didn’t want it to be in a bathroom where anyone that was still there cleaning up could walk in on the conversation. She was under no delusions that she’d be able to keep it together when she told Mel and Grace everything.
    None.
    “Your reprieve is only going to last as long as it takes for everyone to leave.” The severe look on Mel’s face brokered no argument.
    “Yup, as soon as everyone clears out we are having ourselves a little conversation. Got it?”
    “Got it.” Harper nodded, taking a deep breath to fortify herself.
    The truth was definitely about to will out…and very, very soon.
    *  *  *
    Grace had kept her word. There was no dilly-dallying in storytelling. As soon as the last person was out the door, she flipped the lock and pulled Harper and Mel into the back of the café. She was able to do this as she was part owner of said café. Her grandmother, Lula Mae King, had opened it years ago, and Grace was