Harper didn’t argue. She just reached out and squeezed my hand. “Okay. But if you need anything?—”
“I know,” I said. “I promise I’ll call you.”
Harper checked her watch, then looked at Elizabeth over my head with the particular expression of two people who had already discussed something and reached a conclusion. Elizabeth gave a small nod. I caught it.
“What?” I said.
“Nothing,” Harper said, in the tone that meant something. “Actually—” She straightened, pivoting from gentle concern to cheerful determination with impressive efficiency. “Elizabeth and I are taking you out this weekend.”
“You’re not.”
“We are. Already decided. Non-negotiable.”
“Harper—”
“You’ve been running on empty for two weeks,” Elizabeth said from behind the counter, not looking up from the register. “You need one night that isn’t this.” She gestured broadly at the store. “Or that.” She gestured at my general expression.
“I look fine.”
“You look like someone who hasn’t laughed in forever,” Harper said. “Which I am choosing to fix at the Twilight Tavern. With drinks.” She held up a hand before I could speak. “Bella is staying with Uncle Jake, so I have no excuse, you have no excuse, and Elizabeth has new boots she’s been waiting to wear somewhere that isn’t here.” She tilted her head. “So.”
Elizabeth finally looked up. “The answer is yes,” she said pleasantly.
I looked between them. “You two are terrifying when you coordinate.”
“We prefer effective,” Harper said. “Say yes.”
I hesitated long enough to make it look like a decision, which we all knew it wasn’t. “Fine,” I said. “Yes.”
Bella pumped her fist. “Finally.”
“You were in on this?” I said.
“I helped plan it,” she said proudly.
“Of course you did.” I looked at Harper. “Your daughter is a menace.”
“She really is,” Harper agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of Bella’s head. “Okay. Come on, bug. If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late for dinner, and you’ll get cranky.”
“I’m already cranky,” Bella said cheerfully. “I’ll get hangry if we don’t hurry.”
“Thank you for that distinction,” Harper said. She turned back to me. “Get ready for some fun.”
“Okay, I’ll gather up all my whimsy.”
“If you try to cancel, I will physically carry you to the bar.”
“I know you will,” I said. “Go feed your child.”
They waved and headed out. Elizabeth and I worked the last stretch in companionable quiet—straightening shelves, wiping counters, shutting down the coffee machine. When we finally flipped the sign to Closed, she nudged me with her elbow. “Go home,” she said. “Sleep. Or at least lie down and stare at the ceiling with purpose.”
“Always the goal,” I said.
She gave me a look that said she’d be checking in whether I liked it or not, then locked up behind us.
I drove home with the windows cracked, the late afternoon light slanting through the trees, trying to let the familiar roads settle me. Riverside Pines came into view, the river flashing silver through the branches. I slowed the car without meaning to, my foot easing off the gas as the shape beside my trailer came into focus.
A second trailer. Not Matt, who said he’d meet me when I got off work. It was Levi.
