Syna let go of Sera’s hand with alacrity, hustling her booty into the center of the ring. The other women closed ranks around her, with Sera now holding River Wind’s callused hand. (River, she’d learned, was a local sculptress, and the one responsible for the earth mother fountain in Placita de Suerte y Sueños’s courtyard.)

“My biggest problem is my exercise equipment,” Syna announced. “I spend hours every day wallowing in guilt over not using my stupid elliptical machine. I’m tired of hating myself because I don’t want to get motion sickness wobbling away on that darn torture device for forty-five minutes a day, all so my buns will sit a quarter-inch higher in my ever-so-fashionable mom-jeans. So here’s my Zozobra-resolution: that glorified clothes hanger is getting kicked to the curb! My butt is just fine, and anyone who says otherwise—including my husband—can just suck it!” She waggled her fist in the air, cheeks flushed.

The BRBs let out a lusty cheer. “No, elliptical!” they shouted, in unison except for Sera, who only caught on belatedly. Aruni leaned over to Sera and murmured, “Funniest part is, her husband loves her curves. She just refuses to believe him when he tells her so. He’s absolutely crazy about her.”

Sera smiled, touched. What would it be like to have a relationship like that? She had no real frame of reference. Her brief flings in college and culinary school had been… unsuccessful… to put it kindly, and her relationship with Blake… Forget burned; she’d been incinerated.

Syna stepped back into the circle, which opened to welcome her. Immediately, another woman stepped forward. Not a bit shy, are they? Sera thought, admiring the BRBs even as she began to dread her own turn in the ring. Maybe I can arrange a fainting spell, or fake a nice seizure?

“Harvey won’t go down on me,” Bobbie blurted as soon as she got to the middle of the group, startling Sera straight out of her reverie. The perfectly put-together woman smoothed her cardigan twin set and checked that her pearls were sitting straight. “I told him it’s really not a cardinal sin to perform cunnilingus, despite what his ex-wife told him. I even begged him to ask his priest if he needed confirmation, but he keeps refusing. Well, if he doesn’t at least give it a whirl once, I’m going to find someone who will!”

“Yes, cunnilingus!”

“Harvey’s her new boyfriend,” Aruni whispered in Sera’s ear, after the giggles died down and Bobbie rejoined the others.

“I gathered.”

“Wish me luck, girl!” Aruni dropped Sera’s hand, squeezing her shoulder in passing as she strode gracefully into the ring. She plunked her hands on her lithe little hips. “I won’t bore you guys carping about my dummkopf ex-boyfriend. We all know he’s a sucking pit of negative energy.” She tossed her curls. “Well, my Z-resolution is to wash that schmoe right outta my hair, as the song says.” (Sera pictured a Yiddish grandma belting out Doris Day’s tune, and choked on a laugh.) “He did what he did, but it’s my choice to hold on to that bullshit or let it go. Tonight, I let it go. You’ll never hear another word about that yutz from me again.” Aruni pressed her palms together in prayer position, then opened up into a quick sun salutation. Unable to resist, she finished by flinging her arms wide like a child and letting out a whoop.

“No, yutz!”

One by one, the BRBs stepped forward and shared their secrets, their revelations sometimes touching, sometimes funny, and once, in the case of a woman who’d been molested in her youth, truly heartbreaking. All the while, the crowd’s chant grew in volume, the gloomies bowed and swayed at the feet of Zozobra, the fire dancer twirled and taunted. The ground began to vibrate with the energy of the restless, eager throng.

At last, only Pauline, Hortencia, and Sera were left, and Sera certainly wasn’t going to volunteer, despite the pointed looks and unsubtle head jerks her aunt was giving her.

“It’s not gonna work, Aunt Paulie. I’m not putting my secrets on display until you two have laid all your cards on the table.”

Pauline harrumphed, trying to cross her arms but being checked when she dragged Hortencia’s along with hers.

“Oh, grow up, Pauline!” Hortencia snorted. “Let’s get this over with. We swim together, or drown alone.” She hauled Pauline with her into the ring, and the encircling women gave a ragged cheer. The chants of ‘Burn him! Burn him!’ from the packed-in masses were growing louder by the moment. The BRBs looked from Pauline to Hortencia, wondering which woman would go first.

Pauline could have modeled for a new perfume called Eau de Chagrin. Under her jaunty sombrero and loud costume, she seemed smaller, more fragile than Sera could ever remember. Still, she wasn’t licked yet. Squaring her shoulders with a determined shimmy, she took a deep breath. When she spoke, she addressed not just Hortencia, but all of the Back Room Babes.

“There’s something I haven’t told you, and I guess tonight’s as good a night as any. It’s been hanging over my head long enough, for fuck’s sake, so maybe it’s time to let Zozobra carry the burden from now on. Anyway, I’ll get to the point.” She cleared her throat. “Remember how I always tell you women to get to know your bodies, make friends with them, even cop a feel of your favorite bits whenever you won’t get arrested for it? Well, one day I was saying hello to LuLu here”—she hefted her left breast demonstratively, setting coins clashing on her costume—“and I found something. A lump.”

As if on cue, the mob’s chanting paused, as on the stage, the Queen of Gloom stepped forward, making some proclamation that was inaudible from this deep in the crowd. In the relative quiet, the Back Room Babes’ gasps were amplified theatrically. Sera felt a thrill of alarm, but Pauline was quick to soothe it. “It turned out to be benign. But it shook the shit out of my confidence, and it got me thinking about what’s important to me.”

“Pauline Wilde, how dare you not tell me about this right away!” Hortencia looked shocked.

“Let me get this out, Horsey. I need to explain why I’ve been such a pain in the ass.”

Hortencia clamped her mouth shut, though she looked like it cost her.

“Anyway, the damn lump got me thinking about my mortality. I ain’t the spring chicken I once was, though I’ve still got it where it counts.” She performed a rather impressive belly roll, proving her costume wasn’t just for show. “I started realizing I wanted to solidify the things that mattered to me, keep them close. I wanted some way to cement my relationships. That’s why I asked you to marry me, Hortencia. I mean, domestic partnership’s fine and all that, but I wanted it on paper if we need to be there for each other in a medical crisis, or, or… whatever might come. And damn it, woman, I just wanted the world to know you’re the love of my life!”

Hortencia looked ready to cry. Her soft brown eyes were awash with sentiment. She clutched Pauline’s hand, the cuffs forgotten.

“And, Bliss?” Pauline glanced over to her niece, her own sharp brown eyes damp. “I’m sorry I tricked you, kiddo. I just… I just wanted my darling niece by my side, and I wanted you to have the same chance I had to flourish in this magical place, the way you deserve. You’re so talented, and you’ve had such a rough lot. Not too many women could handle everything you’ve faced with such panache.” Unsaid but clearly telegraphed were the things Pauline left out—the death of Sera’s parents, her struggles with addiction, Blake Austin, and all the fallout from her decimated career.

Sera appreciated her aunt’s unusual discretion, even as her heart melted to see her so open and vulnerable. She’d never loved Pauline Wilde more, and that was saying a lot. She blew Pauline a kiss, telling her without words that all was forgiven.

“Anyhow, so that’s why I did what I did. I lied to my only niece and I hurt the woman I love. And I’m sorry, both of you. I’ll admit I freaked out when you said no, Hortencia. I shouldn’t have dumped you just for refusing my proposal. I still don’t know why you did, though. I know it can’t be about my technique in the boo-dwahhhr…” she ventured, tendering up an uncertain grin and giving her hips a swirl that set her scarves fluttering.

The chants of Burn him! Burn him! began again, rolling across the field. The sky was completely dark now, and the crowd’s lighters, flashlights, and glow sticks competed with the floodlights illuminating Old Man Gloom up on the stage. In the center of their own little assembly, Hortencia sighed. “If you’re finished taking a bow over your prowess in the bedroom, Pauline, I’ll tell you.” She turned so she was facing her lover squarely, and the BRBs leaned in to listen. It was getting harder and harder for their little circle to maintain solidarity as the restive gathering of thousands surged and shifted, awaiting the main event. But Sera, enchanted as she was by the festival, was more interested by far in seeing her aunt’s relationship mended.

“What first attracted me to you, Pauline, was how comfortable you were with yourself, how free you were in every possible way. And freedom was just what I needed. You know I was married—for years and years. Forty of them, to be exact. And when Carlos and I split four years ago, that was the first time in my entire life I’d gotten to do exactly what I wanted. Watch the damn dog show instead of football on Thanksgiving. Eat at a new restaurant every night of the week, instead of recycling the same menu of enchiladas, calabacitas, and his mom’s awful carne asada over and over. And for the first time in my life, I got to acknowledge that I loved women, not men. Do you know how liberating that was?” Hortencia challenged. “Of course you don’t. You crawled out of your cradle liberated. You flew from lover to lover like a hummingbird pollinating flowerbeds, and never looked back. But I… well, I came from a very traditional Catholic home. I married at twenty. I kept the house. I gave my husband three beautiful kids. And I waited until they had kids before I took back my life and claimed my freedom. That’s why I never wanted to move in with you, Pauline. I loved having a space that was all my own. So when you asked me to marry you, I just… I don’t know. It wasn’t that I wasn’t sure about you, and it wasn’t some lingering desire for a heterosexual relationship. I just saw the walls closing in on me again, and I panicked. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I tossed that perfectly lovely ring over the side of the balloon.”

Pauline waved that away, as though diamonds plummeting out of hot air balloons were the least interesting thing in the world. She pushed her sombrero back off her head, letting it dangle down her back from its leather cord. Tears were streaming freely down her lined cheeks, but she looked radiant, her own personal gloom utterly banished.

“Oh, Horsey…” She trailed off.

Hortencia drew their clasped hands to her breast. “Pauline, if you still want to get married… I mean, if you’ll still have me, well, I’d…” She choked up.

Again, Pauline waved impatiently. “Hortencia, you beautiful old bird,” she declared, taking her beloved’s cheeks in her hands and gazing fondly into her brimming blue eyes, “I don’t care if we live in sin forever, as long as I’m with you.” The two women kissed.

And kissed.

And kissed.

“Yay, living in sin!” howled the Back Room Babes, erupting in applause. Those nearby in the crowd paused in their pyromaniac chanting to clap along with them.

It broke the spell, forcing Hortencia and Pauline to finally come up for air.

“Oh, my. Ladies, we better hurry up. The burning’s about to start, and we don’t want to leave anyone out. It’s your turn, dear,” Hortencia prompted Sera. “Tell us what’s been holding you back, and how you plan to change it. It’s quite liberating.”

“Yeah, kiddo,” urged Pauline. “Give it up to Zozobra, let it all go into the fire!” The crowd seemed to agree, the frenzy of shouting and dancing kindling the night.

Both older women were grinning blindingly. But Sera’s own smile fell away. She could feel all the eyes of the Back Room Babes on her as if they were literally pressed to her skin. She knew very well what her worst hang-up was, and she very much wanted to keep it to herself. The women were opening their circle for Sera, smiling and gesturing for her to take center stage. When her feet wouldn’t move, Pauline and Hortencia came to her, taking her rubbery arms and drawing her into the circle in their place.