Page 3 of Back to Square One

Rowan nodded but said nothing.

“And Sara’s coming by Wednesday. She had some stuff going on early in the week.”

Well, that was a relief. Sara was Stevie’s wife and Rowan’s favorite person in the world besides Stevie. “Oh, good.”

“And how have you been feeling?” Stevie asked. “Physically, I mean.”

Rowan tipped her head from side to side. “Not terrible. The headaches still show up out of nowhere, but they’re less frequent, I think, so that’s good. I’ve got some strong painkillers for those.”

“Are they, like, migraines?”

She used to get migraines as a teen and into her early twenties. “No, not quite. My migraines always settled on the right side of my head. These are across the top, sort of.” She hovered a hand over her head, just above her forehead. “And they don’t pound like a migraine. They just sort of…ache. But they can get bad, and I have to lie down.”

“Well, from what I understand, this house is huge, and I made sure you’ll have your own room, so if you need space to get away from people and chill, you’ll have it.”

Rowan gazed at her friend for a moment, studied her profile—the long, straight nose, the spiky blond hair. “Hey,” she said, then waited until Stevie glanced at her. “Thank you for always looking out for me.” Her voice was soft and cracked slightly with some surprise emotion—another new aspect of her injury.

Stevie reached over to grab her hand. “Listen, I thought I was gonna lose you.” She cleared her throat, ever the masc who tried—and failed—to keep her emotions in check. “And I want you around for a long, long time. You’re my rock, you know.” She squeezed Rowan’s hand before letting go and returning her own hand to the steering wheel.

They talked about a few more things—Stevie’s landscape business and how it was doing so well, she was opening an additional location on the west side of the city. Rowan’s sales job—which her bosses had held for her and had been great about letting her ease back into from home, but Rowan was starting to wonder if she’d ever be able to go back to it full-time. How could she adequately sell something she couldn’t remember to people she couldn’t remember? The conversation slowed, then died down as Rowan felt her eyelids grow heavy.

“Put your head back,” Stevie said, handing over her extra sweatshirt for Rowan to use as a pillow. “Get comfortable. We’ve got a ways to go.”

Rowan wanted to resist, but naps came out of nowhere now, and she’d recently realized it was better all the way around if she gave in and slept rather than fighting to stay awake. She balled up the sweatshirt, put it against the window, and leaned into it, breathing in the faint scent of Stevie’s cologne that still clung to the soft fabric. Her eyes drifted closed.

A hand on her arm shook her gently.

“Hey,” Stevie said, her voice soft. “We’re here.”

Rowan blinked and pushed herself up. “Already?”

“Babe, you’ve been zonked for two solid hours.”

“Oh my God,” Rowan said with a grimace. “I’m so sorry.”

Stevie snorted. “Why? You obviously needed rest.”

Clearly, that was true, but she still felt bad for making Stevie drive with basically nobody to talk to. She sighed and flipped the visor down, checked herself in the mirror, ran her fingers through her auburn hair that was now slightly flatter on one side. She rubbed at a wrinkle print that ran down her cheek and shook her head with a soft growl.

“This is nice,” Stevie said as she opened her door and stepped out of the truck. “Looks like we’re the first ones.”

Rowan slid out of the truck and inhaled deeply as her feet hit the ground. Fresh lake air filled her up, tinged with the subtle notes of seaweed and mud and fish.

Stevie pulled out her phone, scrolled, and found what she was looking for. “Okay, there’s a lockbox on the door with a code.” She looked at Rowan. “You ready to start an amazing nine days?”

Rowan grinned at her and nodded. “Let’s do it.”

“Oh, wow,” Rowan breathed as they pushed through the door into the huge open-concept lake house.

“Holy shit,” Stevie said in obvious agreement. “I saw the online listing, but the photos don’t do it justice. At all. I’d say Becca outdid herself this year.”

They wandered slowly, Rowan dragging her fingertips behind her over the leather sectional in the enormous family room. Floor to ceiling windows offered a stunning view of the lake, as they were a story above it.

“So, from what I remember, there are two bedrooms upstairs and three downstairs. They all have their own bathroom and there should be a powder room”—Stevie spun in a circle until she found the door that had been left halfway open—“here.”

Rowan stood in front of the windows, gazing out at the lake. There was a sliding glass door almost hidden in there that evidently led out to the huge wraparound deck. “This is gorgeous.”

Stevie came up and stood next to her, and they simply took in the view for a quiet moment.