Three tables filled the area, with colorful signs on red, brown, and white plaid paper that saidhigh,medium, andlow. She had no idea what they meant but instinctively hoped she wouldn’t be put at the low table.
“Come in, come in.” Meagan grinned at her like she was the Queen of England. “Guys, Farrah’s here.”
Every eye turned toward her, and sure enough, Farrah recognized almost every face. Missy and Rae were the friendliest, and they came over to her. Rae had recovered decently well from her car accident, and she wore a full leg brace as she hobbled closer. “Look at you.” She grinned and glanced at Missy. “I didn’t think this was your scene.”
The scent of freshly baked pie crust filled the air, along with something sweet and cidery. With this many women, and thismuch noise, Farrah could easily say, “Oh, it’s not. But Meagan needed a sub, and well.” She shrugged, not wanting to admit she didn’t have anything else to do that night.
“Glad you came.” Missy gave her shoulders a squeeze and turned back to the crowd. “Okay, so you have to watch out for April. She works at the rec center with Rae, and they cannot be partners.”
“It’s a game of chance,” Rae said, a note of defensiveness in her tone.
“Still.” Missy gave her a look that spoke of how much time they’d spent together. “They’re like a luck charm when they’re on the same team.”
“There’s teams?” Farrah asked, letting herself get swept toward the crowd.
“You’ll be partnered with someone different in every game,” Missy said. “You know Logan’s wife? Well, Aria and Hazel still work at Layla’s clinic.”
Farrah said hello to them, glad for another connection between her and a couple of the women.
“You know Audra and Meagan from the farm,” Missy continued. “And Meredith works at the rec too. Michelle and Cheryl—” Two women turned, punch cups in hand and wide smiles on their faces. “Work at the elementary school. They’re friends of Bonnie’s.” Missy gestured to Farrah. “She’s dating Darren Buttars.”
The way she said it so casually made Farrah’s insides dance. The way Michelle and Cheryl’s faces lit up, as if they had nothing but mad respect for Darren, helped Farrah feel more at ease.
“And this is Toby,” Missy said, indicating the last woman. She sported bleached hair no longer than an inch. “She runs the yoga studio by the bookstore, and I think…Meredith goes there.” She raised her eyebrows and looked at Toby.
“That’s right.” She smiled and shook Farrah’s hand. Out of all of the women, Toby hadn’t grown up here in Island Park, and Farrah found herself wanting to be her partner.
A cowbell rang, nearly deafening Farrah, and she spun to find Meagan holding it gleefully. “Come get your scorecards and pencils,” she announced into the resulting silence. “And game one begins in sixty seconds!”
Panic flooded Farrah. “I don’t know how to play,” she blurted, hoping one of the women making a mad dash for the scorecards and pencils would stop and teach her. They didn’t.
Missy returned and handed her a card with a big blue M in the corner. “You’re at the medium table, and it looks like there’s only one spot left. You’ll be Aria’s partner.”
Aria, Aria.Farrah had met so many women in such a short time, but she managed to locate the medium table and the woman sitting across from the open space. Farrah took her scorecard and pencil and headed over.
She sat and smiled at Aria, who grinned back. “I’ve never played,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
Aria tipped her head back and laughed. She waved her hand. “Honey, it’s rolling dice. You can handle it.”
“Can she?” Michelle asked. “Because Audra and I were a team last month, and we killed it.” She high-fived Audra across the table.
Farrah blinked, completely unprepared for smack talk from grown women at bunko night. A smile spread her lips. Oh, thiswasgoing to be fun.
chapter
fifteen
Darren stood in the cemetery,feeling like he was doing something wrong. He glanced around again, satisfied that no one else was there. He stared down at the headstone Farrah had been looking at a few months ago.
Gary Karl Lewis.
No Irvine in sight. So not her—not the father of her baby. Not her baby either. No, this man was sixty-four-years-old, and Darren’s need to know who he was a sixty-four out of ten.
He turned away from the headstone and strode over to Paintbrush. The horse snacked on the grass under a tree, and Darren led him out of the shade. One more furtive glance around, and he swung up onto the horse’s back.
“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered.
It had been days since Farrah had told him about part of her time in LA. She had such a big heart, and had always been so honest with him, that finding out about a completely different side of her had been shocking.
