Winnie was learning a distressing fact about her wardrobe: she didn’t own anything that wasn’t either work clothes or the clothes she used to kick around the house, doing chores and laundry and the like. And that latter category was a touch questionable, in terms of its suitability for going out and about in the world. Winnie had, during the excavation process she’d undertook looking for something suitable, found a pair of leggings that she thought she might have even owned since college.
And which had a large hole on the left shin. Who even got holes on theshinsof their clothing?
In the end, it was choose an imperfect outfit or be late, and the rule follower in Winnierefusedto be late.
Especially when this was the first time that she had been invited out by potential friends in…
Well, she couldn’t even remember how long it had been, which was a sign in and of itself.
Since it was summer, she hoped that the loose denim shorts she wore would pass as casual chic, not, say,I usually wear these for gardening. She paired this with a featherlight sweater that she wore around the office when the air conditioning was working overtime, which she felt would fit the cool breeze coming off the water nicely. Her tennis shoes were cute, at least; she’d bought a new pair recently when she’d taken a stint giving tours, since she couldn’t handle doing multiple hours of standing, walking, and talking if she was going to be wearing uncomfortable shoes.
She paused to give herself one last look in the mirror, then ruffled her razor-sharp bob, wondering if it would make her look a little more relaxed. She frowned at the messy effect, then smoothed her hair again.
“There’s no use pretending you’re someone you’re not,” she said. Gosh, she was lecturing herself an awful lot tonight. “Either they’ll like you for you, or they won’t.”
Her fear, of course, was that they wouldn’t.
She had been terribly nervous all week after getting an invitation from Diana to the next book club meeting. She had zipped through the book they were reading, which was a historical romance, something that combined two of Winnie’s very favorite things. She had even found herself jotting down notes in the margin of things she wanted to discuss with the club.
But as soon as she’d closed the final page on its happily ever after, she’d started to slightly panic.
If you go, and they still don’t like you, it will prove that everyone was right about you. That you’re a loser who doesn’t know how to make friends. That you’re going to be stuck, sad and alone, with your dusty old books forever.
It was when she realized that these voices sounded an awful lot like Britt and Whit that she was able to start to shake them free… even if only slightly.
Besides, Winnielikeddusty old books. And she had been invited to a book club, so maybe this group of women did too.
With this encouraging thought, she tucked her copy of the novel into her handbag and headed to her car. Sherefusedto back down.
Things started to go wrong almost the instant Winnie arrived at Eleanor’s bookshop-to-be. She got there right behind Diana, which would have been reassuring, since Diana had been the one to invite her in the first place. But then Winnie saw that Diana was carrying a large bag full of snacks and a bottle of wine.
And Winnie hadn’t brought anything.
“Oh no,” she said, her mind blaring an alarm at her. “Was I supposed to bring something?” She thought frantically back to the text message from Diana. It hadn’t said anything, had it? Had she somehow… missed it? “I’m so sorry, I don’t have anything.”
“Oh, whoops.” Diana looked totally unbothered. “I forgot to tell you. Yeah, we usually all bring something to snack on, but don’t worry. Some of us have definitely missed snack duty before. I think June couldn’t grab anything last time.”
Winnie could tell that Diana was trying to be kind, but the comparison wasn’t exactly fair. June Caldwell was a single mother with approximately a million jobs, not to mention that she was close friends with the other book club members. Winnie was just the person they had invited out of pity because they’d watched her get bullied by her tormenters from middle school.
Goodness, it sounded so pathetic when she put it that way.
Winnie pasted a smile on her face, knowing it came out chilly and aloof, but not certain how to fix that problem.
“I’ll remember for next time,” she said stiffly.
If I’m invited back next time, she thought despondently.
Diana gave her a quick, kind look before she got swept into the gathering of women who were already settling into a circle of chairs that was surrounding a table overflowing with snacks. Winnie perched on an overstuffed pink velvet armchair.
“Oh, she swoops in and steals a chair from a little old lady.”
Winnie’s head jerked up to see a silver-haired woman pressing the back of her hand dramatically to her forehead.
“Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry?—”
The lady cackled, interrupting Winnie’s efforts to leap to her feet.
“Sorry, honey, I couldn’t resist. That’s not anybody’s seat; they’re all up for grabs.” She gave Winnie a teasing wink. “I’m Miriam Landers, resident senior and most exciting of this whole lot.”
