A remote-control gas fireplace made the living room super cozy, and they stood in front of it to warm themselves as soon as they returned home. Harper had struggled with the cold since they’d arrived. “I am chilled from the inside out. It’s all up in my bones.”
They looked forward to sitting on the spacious front porch once spring came—a glider sat under a big canvas cover to protect it from the winter elements. And though the big ceramic pots were empty, they had ideas for the kinds of flowers they could plant when it warmed up.
The house was painted a dark slate blue with white trim, and stone facings decorated the columns that held up the frame. A sign on the yellow front door said “Home Sweet Home.”
“A girl could get used to this,” Harper said.
“Don’t gettoocomfortable. Remember, come mid-November, we’re outta here,” Mary said.
“Oh, I could neverlivehere,” Harper said. “But I plan to enjoy it while I can. When in Rome!”
It was a great setup. But Dot couldn’t hang at the house. She went into the office every day, just as she had in the city.
That morning, ready to step into the big chill, she pressed play onThe Headlinespodcast fromThe New York Timesbefore she opened the front door. She braced herself for the ten-minute walk to the office.
While she had settled into Wisconsin living fairly well, she missed being able to just walk a block to get whatever she needed from the local bodega or to pop over to her hot yoga studio.
Mary, the only one with a driver’s license, had offered to take her to the office every day, but Dot insisted on walking. She didn’t want to be one of those people who drove everywhere just because they lived in the suburbs.
Mary scoffed. “I’d drive ten feet to stay out of this cold.”
“Why don’t you just wear the Uggs your dad sent?”
“They make my feet look like blobs.” Mary had temporarily left New York City, but she wasn’t about to give up on her put-together self.
Dot had no problem wearing her big snow boots around town. She carried her work shoes in her backpack—cute black patent loafers that gave her a little lift. She wasn’t as fashion-forward as Mary, but she wasn’t about to clomp around the office with hot feet either.
She took a left outside the door. Their neighbor, Kristy Gunderson, was scraping the ice off her windshield before her hospital shift in the physical therapy department. Kristy personified Wisconsin nice.
“Hi, Dot! Good morning! Want a ride?”
“Good morning! No, thanks, I’m going to get my steps in!” Dot waved a mittened hand then glanced up and down the charming street. She stopped and turned. “Congrats on the Pack!”
“Awesome night, right?” The Packers had won the Super Bowl the night before. Dot had only been there a month, but she knew what a huge deal it was. The Crew had stayed up to watch the half-time show with America’s football’s princess, Taylor Swift—that wastheirSuper Bowl.
Dot headed down the hill to Lincoln Street. Her podcast started, and as she walked, she learned about a major natural disaster in Comoros. She made a mental note to look that up on a map.
When she got to Main Street, she hung a right and walked the winding path along Cedar Creek, a river that gave the town’s founders exactly what they needed to build a mill on its banks. The wind from the latest polar vortex ran right through town and hit her smack in the face.
“Okay. That’s cold.” She walked faster, almost running down the street, passing A Cut Above hair salon. That reminded her to schedule a blowout for Friday afternoon—it cost half the price of a shampoo and dry in the city. “I’m down,” Mary said when they’d driven by their first week in town and saw the sign in the window.
Finally, she reached her new favorite bakery, Flour Power, to get a box of pastries for the team.
“Good morning, Mimi!” She’d made friends with the young baker, Mimi Downey. Small businesses were a big deal in Cedar Falls. Major chains, Dot learned, were banned within city limits, which made rents more affordable for the locals, and small businesses were patronized enthusiastically.
A few early birds were in Flour Power already, cozy in unzipped puffer coats, their hats and gloves hanging off the backs of their chairs. Huge arrangements of silk flowers decorated the windows with corresponding small vases of flowers on the bistro tables. The customers were drinking big steaming mugs of coffee and sat reading the weekly paper,The Cedar Falls Gazette, or scrolling on their phones. “Wi-fi always free.”
“Hi, Dot! Good weekend?” Mimi’s face was flush from the warmth of her ovens. “I saved a Schnecken for you.” She reached behind her for one of the cinnamon sweet buns that looked like snails.
“Oh, I love those! They’d go down well back home,” Dot said, thinking Freddy would sell out of them every morning from his cart on Sixth Avenue.
In addition to her own breakfast, Dot ordered a mix of bear claws, Danishes, and chocolate croissants. She paid with an FTW-issued credit card. The PAC didn’t even need receipts. “We trust you,” the finance officer said. Dot knew the Super PAC was flush with cash, but she was still careful with how much she spent. There would be no red flags on her watch.
“Let’s take a pic,” Dot said. She snapped a selfie of herself, Mimi, and the pastries. Then she posted it on her story saying, “Flour Power—the BEST in Cedar Falls!” She added Mimi’s tags and hit send.
“I can’t believe how many new followers I’ve gained since you first posted about us,” Mimi said. “I appreciate it so much. Even if most of them live over a thousand miles away!”
“You never know—Flour Power could become a national chain,” Dot said, dreaming big early in the morning and putting her mittens back on her hands. Then she picked up her order, waved to the morning coffee crowd, and wished everyone a good day.