Libby.
“Hey, can I help? Get you something?”
“I just told Archie I wasn’t coming back. I have no idea what I’m going to do next. But I’m not going back there.” She was trying not to cry, trying not to sob. But the words came out of her throat like coughs, each one ripped out of her lungs like bile.
“Come back to Irish Hills with me. I told you, I’ve got a cottage on the water rent-free, and I’m telling you, you’ll fall in love with this little space downtown. It’s made for you and for your talent with food.”
“I can’t promise anything. I don’t have a culinary degree or business degree even. I’ve never even lived on my own or—” The things Hope hadn’t done were piling up in her mind. That word regret popped in again.
She didn’t want to live with any more of it.
“You don’t have to promise anything,” Libby reassured her. “How about we just go back and have a boat ride or two?”
“That is as good a plan as any.” Tears started rolling down her face.
Libby moved forward and circled her in a hug. “It’s okay, sis.”
Hope felt her body shudder with the sobs she tried to hold in but couldn’t.
Libby was quiet. She was strong. Hope leaned on Libby while the wave of anger, betrayal, disappointment, and just everything rolled through her body.
And then it passed.
The wave had overtaken her, but now she was calm. She’d swam past the breakwater, and it was calm.
Libby gave her a tissue.
“Some mess you found here. I mean, you’re trusting me with a lot, and you don’t know me, you don’t know Marcia H. Venerable.”
“I know Hope Benton, and I’m one hundred percent sure you do too.”
Libby’s eyes were clear. They held hands. Libby was a steady presence; she radiated strength, and her confidence flowed to Hope. They were so different, but they didn’t start out that way. They started the same, or as close as two people can be, back when they were Sandbar Sisters. Libby was throwing Hope a life preserver. Hope need only grab on. Suddenly grabbing for the life preserver seemed a better option than clawing at Archie. Because that was the scenario she could see if she went back home to Covington.
“Okay, I’ll do it. I’m not saying I’ll do all this crazy restaurant stuff, but I’ll come back with you. I need to clear my head without Archie. You still have a raft I can lounge on?”
“YES! I can’t wait to tell J.J. She’ll flip!”
“J.J., I miss her.” Hope remembered her summer friends. She needed that sunshine for a few days. Vegas had sun, but you did everything you could to hide from it. You went to shows, casinos, or cabanas. At the lake, you basked in it. You let it heal you. That’s what Hope needed.
“I have no doubt you’ll fall in love with Irish Hills, just like I did. The town needs you. It needs all of us.”
“Are you always this persistent?”
“Yes, it’s part of my charm.”
It was settled. Hope would go to the lake. She’d lick her wounds. She’d figure out who she was and who she wanted to be.
She’d deferred her plans for so many reasons over the years.
Her phone buzzed.
“Archie?”
“Yep.”
Hope blocked his number. And showed it to Libby.
“There you go. Now, let’s get out of Vegas, this dumb hotel, ugh, and back to the lake,” said Libby. It was solid, definitive, more than anything Hope could come up with in this tumultuous moment. Though she thought the Stirling Grand was far from dumb. It was the swankiest place on the strip. Alas, Libby had moved in different circles than Hope.
