I turned. A blonde woman about my age stood behind me, her cart half-full. It took a second to place the shorter hair and a full face with laugh lines around her eyes. “Jenny Martinez? Holy shit.”
“For real.” She laughed and pulled me into a hug. “Jenny Morrison now.” Grinning, she flashed an engagement ring and wedding band set in my face. “Got married right out of high school.”
Of course she did. That’s what most people did here. They found their person and settled in.
“Congratulations. Marriage suits you.” I meant it. She looked happy. A bit tired, maybe, but happy.
“Thanks. We have three kids now. Can you believe it?” She gestured to her cart loaded with juice boxes and goldfish crackers. “What about you? Married? Kids?”
“God no.” I chuckled to avoid the heat of embarrassment and tried to recover when her eyebrows shot up. “No. I love kids, but I’m not ready yet. I mean, I’m running the pub. Not exactly the kind of place to raise a kid.”
I’d been raised there, but I’d also heard most the town talk about how awful it was that my mother raised me there, so I hedged my bets with Jenny.
Her expression shifted from shock to understanding. “Right. I heard about Maeve. I’m so sorry. She was something.”
“Yeah, she was.”
“But it’s great that you’re here. We need fresh energy.” She grabbed a bag of apples without looking at them. “You should come to our book club. We meet at the library every other Thursday.”
Book club. Wow. Women my age who had husbands, kids, mortgages and hadn’t been secretly sleeping with three men old enough to be their father.
“I’ll think about it.” I added apples to my cart. “The pub keeps me pretty busy.”
“I bet. If you decide to come, text me.” She rattled off her phone number, and I added her to my contacts. “It’s good to have you back, Bree.” A quick squeeze of my arm, and she wheeled away down the cereal aisle.
Jenny had a real life with responsibilities and a book club.
What did I have? A pub I might not keep. Three men I had to hide, and a future that stretched out in an uncertain and terrifying path.
I shook off the thought and finished my shopping. Milk, eggs, bread, all basic necessities that belonged in any kitchen.
By the time I made it back to the pub, unpacked my groceries and put them away, the lunch rush had started downstairs. I hurried down to help and Tammy waved at me from her usual stool. “Afternoon, dear.” She patted the bar top. “Pour me one of those fancy coffees with the Bailey’s. I’ve earned it.”
“Rough morning?” I grabbed a mug and started the pour.
“Doctor’s appointment. They poked and prodded and told me I’m old.” She snorted. “Could have told them that myself. Not sure why they have to bill my insurance for telling me shit I already know.”
“You’re not old. You’re seasoned.” I slid the cup across to her.
“Seasoned like a good steak.” She cackled and took a sip. “Speaking of good things, how are you settling in?”
“Fine. I ran into Jenny Morrison at the grocery store. She invited me to her book club.” I left it at that. Telling Tammy anything real about my private life was absolutely out of the question.
“Sweet girl. Married young. Has three kids already. Can you imagine?” Her eyes gleamed with the burst of potential gossip.
I mimed zipping my lips, which caused Tammy to snort into her cup.
The door opened, and a group of women filtered in. The lunchtime crowd often came looking for fried pickles and gossip. I recognized a few faces, Bethany Clearwater among them. Her perfectly styled blonde hair sans sharp-as-glass smile made my stomach turn.
They claimed a table near the window, and I tried to ignore them by focusing on pouring drinks and taking orders from other customers.
Ronan walked out from the back room carrying rolled-up blueprints. He spread them across the table and gestured for me to join him. “Got the final designs made for the back patio.” He smoothed out the paper. “What do you think?”
I crossed to him, fighting the grateful smile that would give me away to anyone looking. “Walk me through it.”
He pointed to the corner. “We can put a firepit here and make it usable year-around.” His warm, solid shoulder pressed into mine and I almost swallowed my tongue when his forearm grazed mine.
A burst of laughter came from Bethany’s table, the sound high and pointed.
