When Maya left a little later with Trudy to go to the shop—Violet left early to do her morning bird survey before heading to Two Sisters—the breeze crept under her shirt hem, wound around her hair, and lifted the edges of the tablecloth she toted to the car. Trudy tried to pass a note to Maya, but the wind caught it and carried it out to the river.

Trudy laughed and threw her hands up, but Maya didn’t like it. The wind bothered her, made her feel like things were shifting and unsteady. Her grandmother used to say that anytime the wind picked up, it brought change with it. With her long, jewel-colored skirts rustling in the breeze, changing colors as the layers moved and twirled, she’d laugh into the wind, saying, “Bring it! Bring on the change! I’m not scared!”

But Maya was scared. Wind meant change and that was exactly what she didn’t want. She’d had enough change in the last ten years to last a lifetime, and she was determined that nothing would take these women or this place from her.

On festival days Maya had learned the shops on Water Street and all through downtown were closed so everyone would visit the booths set up by the river and shop owners would only have to worry about customers at one place. Even still, customers kept showing up at the Two Sisters storefront, tapping on the window and hoping to be let in to browse through the items the women hadn’t carried down to their booth.

Maya, Trudy, and Violet trotted back and forth all day, ringing up customers in both places, keeping a firm hand on their merchandise as the wind picked up, and holding down the tent poles so the whole thing wouldn’t blow into the river.

Shouldn’t we make them follow the rules? Trudy wrote in a note after another customer asked to be let in the shop up the street. Why should we run ourselves ragged?

“Because a sale is a sale.” Violet’s red glasses caught the sunlight and reflected pink shards of light onto the white tent. “And we don’t turn down sales of any kind.”

Trudy humphed, and Maya laid a calming hand on Violet’s shoulder. “I’ll stay up in the shop, if you want, to take care of the customers there.”

“That’d be wonderful,” Violet said, her hands busy fussing and refolding and straightening. “Thank you.”

Later in the day, Maya was wrapping a glass paperweight in the shape of a starfish when the door to the shop opened. Maya knew it was Tyler before she even lifted her head. The air around her quivered and the tender skin below her ears pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

“The sisters told me I’d find you here.” He was wearing his work pants with all the loops and zips and pockets and a perfectly faded blue Holt Feed and Seed T-shirt.

“You found me.” Maya handed the wrapped gift to the customer at the register and watched as the woman tucked it in her bag and walked out. The rest of the shop was blessedly empty for the moment.