Page 22 of Back to Square One

Rowan nodded, and her brain told her it was a good place to end the conversation, to head inside and grab some breakfast, but her feet clearly thought differently, because they stayed rooted to the deck like she was a tree and she lived in that spot now. There were so many things she wanted to say to Evie. So many things she wanted to ask. She knew this was probably not the time or place, but her lips parted, and she took a breath to speak.

The sliding glass door opened. “Hey. Next batch of French toast is up.” It was Claire, and she stood there, looking from Evie to Rowan and back.

There was a beat where Evie and Claire maintained eye contact, and it made Rowan wonder if Evie was waiting for Claire to go back in the house. She didn’t. She continued to stand there in the doorway until Evie finally sighed and pushed herself to her feet. With a glance and a sad smile at Rowan, she said, “I guess we should go eat.”

Rowan stepped aside to let her pass by and she and Claire both went in. Rowan stood near the railing to collect herself and saw that both Stevie and Lizzie were headed up from the boat with all their gear. Her stomach growled loudly, the Universe (and her body) telling her it was time for breakfast, not for deep conversations.

“Story of my life,” she muttered as she turned and headed inside.

Bennett’s was a restaurant that didn’t seem at all sure what it wanted to be. Was it a sports bar? A lakeside family diner? A burger joint? Nobody seemed to know for certain. Whatever the answer was or ultimately ended up being, the service was great and the food was impressive.

Their round table of eight was out on the lakeside deck, an open umbrella keeping them from baking in the August sunshine. The day was hot, but the umbrella—and the cocktails—kept them all cool enough and jubilant.

Rowan was mostly quiet, perfectly content to sit back and listen to her friends talk. Stevie and Lizzie had several fish tales, and nobody realized Lizzie was making hers up until she started talking about the shark she saw.

“Hold up,” Jazzy said after a moment, holding up a hand, her brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, did you say shark? In a freshwater lake in upstate New York? Yeah, I call bullshit on your entire story.”

Lizzie grinned as laughter erupted around the table. “Just making sure you’re paying attention.”

“No sharks,” Stevie said. “Just some damn big trout.”

“I can’t believe you just throw them back instead of bringing them home for Justine to cook for us.” That was Becca, who picked up her beer and took a sip.

Stevie just shook her head, but Rowan spoke up for her. “It’s because Stevie has a soft heart, and she can’t imagine pulling a fish out of its home and letting it suffocate on her boat so she can eat it.” She looked to Stevie for confirmation and was met with a frown and a nod.

“I just can’t do it. I’m a wimp.” Stevie wrinkled her nose.

“Nope. You’re our favorite tender-hearted masc.” Justine smiled at her with clear fondness in her expression. “There are no wimps here.” She sipped her rum and Coke and then added, “Except Claire.”

Claire gasped, her face registering exaggerated shock and horror. “How dare you? I am no wimp.”

Justine tipped her head, looked around the table, and simply said, “And go.”

“The tiny spider in the canoe that you said was a tarantula,” Lizzie said.

“That spider was not tiny,” Claire said in her own defense.

“Your shrieking like a little girl when we went to see Scream V,” Evie said.

“That movie was terrifying.” Claire’s eyes were wide.

“Shrieking,” Evie emphasized to the rest of the table. “Like, people were staring. The couple in our row a few seats down moved. I almost moved.”

“What about the ‘bear in the woods’ when we went camping last year?” Becca said.

“Oh, the one that turned out to be a guy and his dog walking by?” Jazzy asked.

“Yes, the guy and his dachshund,” Becca said, and Lizzie barked a laugh.

“You are all so mean,” Claire said, folding her arms and pouting. Evie bumped her with a shoulder, and Claire grinned, knowing her friends were teasing her.

Rowan, meanwhile, sat through the entire conversation and recalled none of those occurrences. The spider story was vaguely familiar, but she wasn’t sure if it was because she’d been there or because somebody had already told her about it. She simply sat quietly and listened, sipping her soda. More than once, Evie met her eyes from across the table—because Claire had made sure once again that they didn’t sit next to each other—and smiled at her. When that happened, something low in Rowan’s body, just below her belly button, fluttered pleasantly. She looked down at her glass and heard Stevie say, quietly enough for only Rowan to hear it, “Careful there.”

It was helpful advice, even if Rowan didn’t want it.

Their orders came, and that was the end of worrying about it because they were all busy oohing and aahing over one another’s dishes.

“I love going out to eat with Justine,” Stevie pointed out. “She’s never a dick about it if she doesn’t like something, but you can always tell whether she does or not.”