“You should see this house, Wren,” Greer adds, finishing off her mimosa. “It was built in the late 80s, and Saylor has been busy fixing up each room to give it this vintage meets eclectic charm.”
“Thrift stores and flea markets are my best friends,” Saylor says with a chuckle. “Oh, and color.”
“I’d love to go with you sometime,” I admit.
A huge grin spreads across Saylor’s face. “I’d love that.”
Our waiter drops off fresh mimosas and ice water. As soon as he leaves, attention turns to me, and I cringe, knowing the interrogation is coming.
“So, do you miss LA?” Abby asks.
I huff a laugh. “No.”
“Really?” Saylor asks, unconvinced of my answer.
“Really. LA was a good opportunity. The weather was great and the food scene was iconic, but I’m glad to be home. I should’ve been back here years ago…” I reach for my drink, needing the liquid courage.
Greer eyes me, and I can feel them trying to get a read on me, both of them knowing me best, once upon a time.
“Well, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”
"I'll cheers to that," Saylor says, raising her champagne flute, the rest of us quickly following her lead.
“To having our girl back,” Greer toasts, and we clink glasses.
The Bay Buzz
Facebook Page
SiloBayAthleticBoosters:Due to a scheduling conflict, this year’s casino night fundraiser has been moved to the first Saturday in June. We hope you can still attend.
Betty Jones: @Silobayathleticboosters I don’t understand how there could have been a scheduling conflict when it’s the same weekend every year.
Joe Whitley:@Bettyjones Why don’t you call the venue and ask yourself.
Jocelyn Reames:Don’t worry, Jacob. I’m still happy to help ;)
Heath Pierce:@Jocelynreames easy killer, he’s married
Wren Drummond, Greer Emerson, Baker Holmes, and Jett Riggsby love this comment
Jocelyn Reames:@Heathpierce Go away, Heath.
Chapter 10
Jett
Wren’sbeenhomefora few weeks, and I’ve managed to avoid her at all costs since our last run-in.
Turns out, my luck is about to change.
Sitting out front of her dad’s farmhouse, I take in all the cars in the gravel driveway while the engine ticks as it cools. My sister’s car, my mom’s and my grandparents’ SUVs. Her brother’s truck, her grandparents’ SUV, and her dad’s newer truck…along with his old truck. The one Wren has been driving since her return.
I should leave, but I can’t bring myself to shift into reverse.
I drag a hand over my beard, blow out a slow breath, and climb out of the truck, ready to get this family dinner over with.
My sister swings open the Drummond’s screen door as I reach for it.
