She nodded and started for the pool tables. On her way, though, she spotted her two best friends from high school. Ainsley and Laurel, both sporting similar pastel colors in hair that had cost them a fortune, were casual in jeans and sweaters and trendy boots, their coats thrown over the backs of their seats. Two out of the old foursome, back home and taking center stage. It had always been that way with Darby and her posse. Every boy had wanted them, and every girl had wished she could be one of them.
Darcy had lost track of one of the girls, but she’d kept in touch with Ainsley and Laurel, who were both living in Seattle. Well, until things had started going south at that impressive job she’d bragged about.
Ainsley was an influencer now, with a growing following, and Laurel owned her own business staging houses for Realtors. Then there was Darby, who was unemployed. She hadn’t told either one she was coming home for the holidays. She certainly hadn’t told either one that she’d been fired, especially after making such a big deal about her fancy job in New York (entry-level unimpressive, but nobody needed to know that) and her amazing life in the city.
Darby tried to slip past them but Ainsley said, “Darby! Am I hallucinating?”
She should have bolted for the door the minute she saw them. Now she was trapped. She stopped and flashed her famous Darby smile.
“What are you doing in town?” Ainsley asked. “And you brat. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I thought you’d eighty-sixed Eagledale,” said Laurel.
Darby shrugged. “You have to come back for the holidays. Family.”
Ainsley rolled her eyes. “Everyone’s curse.” She shoved out a wooden chair with the toe of her boot. “Sit.”
Since when did Ainsley tell people to sit? The old Darby returned like the Ghost of Christmas Past and cocked a perfectly penciled eyebrow.
Ainsley changed tack and donned a more humble tone of voice. “Come on.”
That was more like it. “Can’t. I’m with the brother.”
“Ooh,” Laurel cooed. “Baby Bro can join us. I’m in between.”
Baby Bro, their nickname for Cole when they were in high school. They had enjoyed teasing him and making him blush. Now Cole was a big boy who didn’t blush, but Darby still didn’t want her brother getting eaten alive by Laurel.
“I think not. I don’t need you two gnawing down his ego,” Darby said, and Laurel snickered.
“Coffee Monday?” Ainsley suggested. “We so need to catch up.”
Even if her sister didn’t want to hang with her, at least someone did. She could fall right back in with her old posseand nurse the wounds to her pride that had been inflicted by her New York fail. It would make the holidays a lot merrier, for sure.
“Okay,” she said. “I assume Brewed Awakening is still in business.”
“Oh, yeah,” Ainsley assured her. “And wait ’til you see who’s running the place now.”
“Who?”
Ainsley shook her head. “Nuh-uh. You’ll have to wait and see.”
“All right. Ten on Monday,” Darby said, then moved away. She saw a guy gaping at her and gave her long, blond hair a shake just to give him a thrill—yes, she still could rock a joint—then joined her brother.
Cole was already at the pool table with a Coke for her and a beer for himself. “Looks like the princesses are in town for the holidays,” he observed as he chalked the tip of his cue stick. “You gonna hang out with them?”
She shrugged. “I might.”
“They haven’t changed,” he said as he leaned over the table. It wasn’t a compliment. “I’ll break.”
Darby mostly ignored her two old friends, concentrated on her shots, smack-talked her brother, drank pop, and after a while, made room for some onion rings. She couldn’t help noticing how the cutest guys in the room drifted toward Laurel and Ainsley’s table, bought them drinks, and generally drooled over them. They’d have been drooling over Darby, too, if she’d been at that table, and she’d have been flirtingand letting them buy her goodies as well. And, in the end, blowing them off . . . just like Ainsley and Laurel would end up doing. Because, after all, they were only locals and, therefore, not worthy.
Except now her conscience nibbled away at the idea of behaving like that. The feeling made her uncomfortable. Did she want to go through the rest of her life using people?
The ride home with her brother was companionable and filled her with the kind of warmth all those ads for jewelry and home goods told people they were supposed to feel during the holidays. It even injected hope into her heart that she could repair the damage she’d done to her relationship with her sister. Christmas was, after all, about miracles. They were both laughing by the time they pulled into the driveway, finishing the last chorus of “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.”
The happiness switch got flipped off when she slipped into the bedroom she and Erika were sharing. Her sister was still awake in bed, propped up against pillows and texting on her phone. She didn’t even look in Darby’s direction.
“I wish you’d have come with us,” Darby ventured.
