It had been Ruby’s intention to generously butter and eat the largest slice of banana bread that sat on the veiny granite countertop, but at Mrs. Orson’s words, she crumbled off one corner and smelled it. The skunky scent that assailed her nostrils had her chuckling—and also straying far from the plate. It wasn’t that she was morally opposed to edibles, since they lived in Washington state and it was perfectly legal, but she was morally opposed to getting high while she was in her scrubs—and while Harry was still somewhere on the premises. It would be just like him to change her time card to make it look like she was still on the clock.

Since she wasn’t brave enough to venture into the living room until the pot had mellowed the women out, she began tackling the pile of dishes in the kitchen instead. Mrs. Orson came in about halfway through, her hip against the kitchen island as she watched Ruby work.

“Oh, good. I was hoping someone would get to those. Aren’t you a love?”

“No. I’m avoiding the living room until you guys are done reenacting sex scenes.”

“If that’s the case, then you might as well organize the pantry. Unless Lorraine throws her hip out again, it’s going to be a while.”

A burst of laughter from the other room confirmed Mrs. Orson’s prediction. That didn’t sound at all like women who were dislodging joints; it sounded like women who were smoking them.

Ruby paused in the act of rinsing out a large mixing bowl. “How much THC did you guys put in that banana bread, anyway?”

“Enough. Darla got her prescription filled this morning. It’s the only thing that makes her cooking palatable.”

Ruby doubted any amount of marijuana could do that, but there was no denying that the women were enjoying themselves. As well they should. They’d lived long lives, full lives, active lives. They were rich with experiences and memories—and all the ups and downs that accompanied them. Even being in the next room washing their dishes was giving her strength.

In fact, she was halfway tempted to pull out the college application she’d printed out in Harry’s office when he was taking one of his many smoke breaks earlier today. North Seattle College wasn’t the most prestigious educational institution, and their two-year nursing program was only a stepping-stone toward a more formal degree, but Ruby needed to talk to someone about it. Her mom wasn’t ready to understand what a big deal this was for her, and Eva was out for obvious reasons.

And the one person she wanted to tell most—Spencer—was a definite no-go.