Evie was beautiful, with the perfect balance of standoffish energy and blissful glow.
Her sleeveless silk blouse and colorful skirt looked professional and effortless, giving her an air that told the world she was put together. A state of being that I’d never been able to manage.
“I’m so glad I finally get to hang out with you.” Ruby said. “I’ve been ridiculously jealous of Stella. She’s been hogging you..”
“Ruby is brilliant,” Evie said. “She’s in charge of picking out all my outfits.”
“You should come by my boutique,” Ruby chirped. “We just got a shipment of thick sweaters in for winter. You’ll need a few if you’re new to Vermont.”
“I’m actually from Maine.” I cleared my throat. “Northern Maine.”
“Then you get it.” She picked up her glass and took a sip. “You’ve got ice in your veins like we do.”
“This is Basil.” She gestured to a middle-aged man with thick round glasses. “Cheesemonger and sourdough wizard.”
He gave me a bashful grin. “How do you feel about Camembert?” he asked, swirling his glass of red wine.
I had no idea how to respond. Raising children on a teacher’s salary meant I didn’t have many occasions for fancy cheese.
“Good?” I said tentatively. “I feel good about it.”
That appeared to be the right answer. “Excellent,” he replied. He gestured out the dark window across the street. “Please stop by anytime. Have some samples. I’d love to introduce you to Taleggio.” He let out a little sigh. “Life-changing.”
At the other end of the table, a woman with pink hair and an eyebrow ring snorted.
“Leave her alone, Basil. Stop trying to recruit for your curd cult.”
His head snapped her way, and his kindly face transformed into something sharp and defensive.
“Go peddle your pedestrian cheddar elsewhere, Lola,” he snapped.
“Children,” a voice shouted.
A petite woman stood behind the bar, eyeing us all expectantly, arms crossed. She had the kind of authority earned from decades of not taking any shit.
“The Drip Line is neutral territory,” she said. “No cheese warfare allowed.”
“Sorry, Dotty,” Basil said sheepishly.
I made eye contact with Ruby. “Don’t ask,” she muttered.
The conversation shifted quickly, and as the people around me chatted, I found myself relaxing a bit. This wasn’t terrible. I could socialize. Maybe I hadn’t completely lost my ability to function as an adult. It was far easier here than in any other environment I’d been in during the last decade or more. I’d never felt like I belonged the way I did tonight. I’d never felt so instantly welcomed into the fold, and the relief that washed over me now made it easy to listen and laugh. And I found myself hoping that eventually I’d be in a place where I could enjoy this for more than the allocated sixty minutes.
“There’s no reading required,” Marty, who I’d learned owned the diner, explained.
“We started as a book club, but along the way, our gatherings became focused on drinking and eating instead. And once that happened, the group grew to this,” a tall, elegant woman explained, holding out an arm to gesture at the good-sized crowd.
“If Caroline had her way,” Ruby teased, grinning at her, “we’d be diagramming Shakespearean sonnets.”
The woman—Caroline, I guessed—broke into a wistful smile.
“Excuse my sister. She’s an English literature PhDdropout,” another woman added. “I’m Linda. That’s Caroline.”
“You must come to the spa,” Caroline added.
Ah, the spa. Chloe had mentioned it. According to her, it was located inside a beautiful inn in town, which also housed a fancy restaurant.
“Oh my God,” Evie groaned. “Frankie and Stella took me for my birthday this summer. It was blissful. Better than any I’ve been to in New York.”
