“I wish.” Blythe glanced at Ricki.
Ricki slumped farther in her lawn chair. “I wish, too, but I promised my coworker I’d fill in as her pickleball partner.”
“Can’t she find someone else?” Blythe asked.
“I’m not calling her at ten thirty at night and telling her I’m blowing her off for her match tomorrow afternoon.”
“It’s Saturday night. I’m sure she’s up,” Blythe argued. “Gives her plenty of time to find someone else.”
Ricki crossed her arms over her chest.
“Leave her be,” Abby said. “As much as I’d love to have you for brunch tomorrow, I don’t want Ricki blowing off her obligations.”
“Madeline’s going to be bummed.” Blythe tapped Ricki’s leg. “Didn’t she say she’d come for brunch?”
“She’ll be fine.” Abby huffed. “Besides, she had a date tonight, so she might not even be home.”
“So much for her bisexual awakening.” Blythe laughed. “You’re losing your touch, Ricki.”
Ricki didn’t answer, but she took a long draw from her beer.
Still standing, Abby put her hand on Ricki’s shoulder. “Leave her be, Blythe.”
Blythe studied Abby’s face in the firelight. There was something bothering her, but Blythe couldn’t put her finger on what. Abby was used to her and Ricki sparring, but tonight she seemed more protective of Ricki.
Maybe Abby knew something Blythe didn’t. This morning, Blythe had slept in, and when she awoke, Abby and Ricki were sitting on the porch, already on their third cup of coffee. Had Ricki confided in Abby? Talked to her about Missy?
Blythe didn’t want to drag the night down, so she said, “The roller derby posts are blowing up. Thanks, Abby, it was a stroke of genius.”
Abby moved to her lawn chair, which was positioned between Ricki and Blythe, and sat. “I can’t take any credit. I just thought it would be fun.”
“It was,” Blythe said. “But it was also creator gold.” Blythe scooted her chair closer to Abby and put her hand on Abby’s leg. “So thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Abby dropped her hand on top of Blythe’s. “And the video of my house isn’t doing too bad, either.”
Ricki perked up. “Did you see how many followers want to create their own literary spaces?”
“It’s crazy,” Blythe said. “Those posts are leaving your latest book reviews in the dust. You’re on your way.”
Abby shook her head. “I don’t want to be on my way anywhere.”
“You might have a side business, though,” Ricki said.
Abby’s face fell.
“No.” Ricki put her hand on Abby’s other knee and patted it. “I didn’t mean as a creator. I meant as a designer.”
The smile returned to Abby’s face. “Now that would be fun. You should have seen how many places I went to find stuff to decorate. It took me three years.”
Ricki pulled her phone from her pocket. “Did you see the books people have suggested creating rooms for?”
“We’ve been so busy, I only glanced at a few comments.” Abby leaned toward Ricki and looked over her shoulder.
“How about this one?” Ricki pointed at her phone. “The Night Circus.”
Abby cringed. “Not clowns.”
Ricki and Blythe laughed.
