“Are you still liking it on the ranch?” Audrey asks.
“We finally got settled in the cabin on Wednesday,” Astrid says. “Now I’m trying to get my home office set up, ignore the revolving door of people coming in and out every day, and learn how to deal with the locals.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, sipping my drink. The wine is perfectly mellowed by the sweetness of the strawberries and the zing of the citrus fruit. It’s liquid happiness.
“Oh, just that there are expectations in Sugar Creek. There are town hall meetings and charity events that require your presence. If someone dies, you contribute to a flower fund by adding dollars to an envelope that a kid on a bike passes around.” She flinches as if this still hasn’t fully processed in her brain. “If you go to the farmers’ market once, you must then go every week. If not, someone will come knocking on your door with soup, assuming you’re sick. Ask me how I know.”
I laugh at the look on Astrid’s freckled face.
She sighs with a smile. “But, yes, Auddie. I’m still liking it there. I’m really,reallyhappy. It’s a different way of life—slower and quieter. But I love it, and I think I’ll miss it when we come back to Nashville when the rugby season starts in January.”
“I love this for you,” Audrey says. “Gianna and I would love to come visit you.”
“As soon as I get settled, I’m having you come out for a weekend,” Astrid says, grinning. “We’ll go line dancing and play with the chickens. It’ll be fun.”
We’ve officially lost Astrid to a life of chickens and flannel.It was good while it lasted.
“How’s the new house?” Audrey asks. “Did you finally decide what mural you’re going to paint in the sun room?”
“Hear me out …” I laugh as Audrey and Astrid exchange a look. “I saw this thing online a couple of days ago, where you take pennies and lay them over the floor and then cover it in a clear epoxy. It’s so gorgeous, and it fits my aesthetic because no one uses pennies anymore … although I don’t know if it’s legal to use pennies like that.” I start to think that through, then stop myself. “I just don’t know how to find that many pennies.”
Astrid shrugs. “If anyone can find them, you will.”
“Damn right,” I say as Kim arrives at the table. I make my order quickly. As my friends decide what they want to eat, I check my texts.
Francine: It’s a go on Mercy! Finalized it a few minutes ago.
My fingers fly across the keys as I bite back a yelp of excitement.
Me: OMG. Can I tease it?
Francine: Yes. Let’s not give out her name and just hype up that someone very cool will be joining you on Friday. That should push our live stream numbers, and then we’ll get a surge in playbacks once word gets out that it was Mercy.
Me: I’m just … Thank you for making this happen!
Francine: It wasn’t me. It was teamwork. Now go celebrate.
I glance up, but Audrey is trading book recommendations with Astrid and Kim. So I hop to my Social account, find a suitable picture of me looking like I have a secret, and type out a caption.
@giannaknowsthingspod: I know something you don’t know … but I’ll share it with you. Soon.
Almost immediately, my notifications pop off. The number climbs higher and higher. My inbox number grows until the count maxes out, and my text alerts ping my phone. I could sit in this moment and absorb this reaction forever. But before I close my screen, I notice one comment that piques my interest.
@drakestakepod: The options with you are endless.
I laugh to myself, imagining the little grin cracking his cheeks and the tease in his voice if he were saying this aloud. I give his comment a heart and then respond.
@giannaknowsthingspod: I like to keep things interesting.
@drakestakepod: I don’t think you need to try so hard.
@giannaknowsthingspod: Can’t help it. It just comes naturally.
The replies to our exchange are a wildfire, an assault of marriage proposals to Drake, and a nice mixture of comments to me suggesting that I’m either the greatest podcaster ever or that I should off myself for daring to breathe. But then there are the other, far more entertaining comments suggesting that Drake and I have dated, are dating, or should date.Gotta love social media.
Kim is gone when I lift my gaze to my friends. Astrid and Audrey are engaged in a conversation that has Audrey biting her lip. I set my phone face down on the table and lock in.
“I agreed to teach a couple of online philosophy classes next semester,” she says. “I hope it’s enough to get my juices flowing again.”
