“Same thing.”
I lean back on the couch, the tension between my shoulder blades easing. “Okay, now I have questions about this board game.”
“Okay, so—” Lily starts.
“No,” Blair cuts her off. “We aren’t going there again.” She turns to face us. “Instead, we want to hear about how the renovation is going. You said there was a mystery water stain. Did you find out what it was?”
I smile, because Lily and Blair have been very eager to hear all the progress whenever I stop by the bakery on my way in towork on the house. The last time I saw them was when I was on my way to ask Tucker about it yesterday.
“It was a nightmare. No one knew exactly where it was coming from at first. But once Tucker got in there yesterday, he noticed the slow drip from the boards. The primary bathroom tub piping was leaking. It was so slow that no one caught it when my grandmother was alive. But over time, it’s just grown larger and larger.”
Blair grimaces. “Yikes.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Tucker had to replace the whole section before replacing the ceiling.”
Lily pours sangria into a glass and hands it to me. “But it’s not leaking anymore, right?”
I take the glass from her and shake my head. “It’s all new now. It’ll look good on camera.” I try to smile like that’s all that matters.
Blair tilts her head, watching me. “And off camera?”
I fiddle with the stem of my wineglass. “Off camera, it’s just a ceiling that almost gave out and is fixed now.”
“Well,” Lily says, sitting up straighter on the couch next to me. “We are very pro ceiling not caving in on your head.”
“Same.” I nod. “My head is already working overtime for this show.”
They laugh, and the moment passes.
But not entirely, because for me it lingers in the corners. Thinking about how much my head is really working overtime, not just with the project and wanting it to be successful, but with Tucker.
With what this place is starting to mean.
With what happens when it’s over.
The show has an end date. I’ve been so focused on it that I haven’t even let myself think about what comes after the last scene and everyone packs up their equipment.
Do I stay?
Do I leave?
The idea of leaving used to feel obvious—renovate the house, prove myself, and move on. But lately, the thought of going back to my old life feels…off. Like I’ll be stepping back into a version of myself that doesn’t quite fit anymore. And staying would means choosing this town and choosing a house I’m still learning about.
We settle in, laughing over drinks and snacks. Determining that the cinnamon twists are a must carry at the bakery, Blair tells me the story about how she met Griffin. My sides hurt from laughing so hard when she brought up the story about screaming bloody murder over a moose creeping outside the window while she was in the shower, and Griffin barging in like a Neanderthal to “save her.”
Lily reaches for a paperback from the stack and waves it vaguely. “Okay, next order of business. We’ve decided you need to join our book club. It’s nothing official. Just Blair and me. Sometimes Poppy.”
I shrug, reaching for the book. “What’s it about?”
“We can’t giveallthe details away, but it’s a hockey romance.”
“It’s soooo good,” Blair adds. “It follows a team called the Boston Rebels. It’s chef’s kiss!”
I look down at the cover, with the couple’s character art on the front, and shrug. “I could use a little escape from reality. If I can find time.”
Lily leans in. “That’s why we wanted to recommend it to you. We thought it might…I don’t know…” She pauses. “Be good for you.”
Fear grips my chest, thinking they can see through me. I worry that these two already notice how unhappy I am inside; hidden behind the sunny mask I hope no one can see through.
