My mouth immediately started watering, my stomach letting out a less-than-subtle growl.
She laughed. “Summit & Vine it is then. Your stomach seems to have decided for you. So…go home, decompress, wear something that isn’t teacher clothes.”
I looked down at my slacks and blouse. “These are perfectly nice?—”
“Sure, for work, but you deserve to feel cute on a Monday,” she said. “Seven o’clock?”
I sighed, but nodded anyway. “Seven,” I agreed.
She pointed at me as I stood. “And Maggie?”
“Yeah.”
“I want everything.” She held my gaze. “Not the highlights. Everything.”
I laughed despite myself. “You’re a lot, you know that?”
“I’ve been told.” She was already turning back to her computer, case closed, extremely pleased with herself. “See you at seven.”
I did take the bath.
I did not think about Garrison Nash. I thought about the cheese board almost exclusively, and also whether I owned anything that wasn’t teacher clothes or sweatpants, which turned out to be a depressingly short inventory. I ended up with a pair of boyfriend jeans and a deep red sweater with a plunging neckline that looked a lot spicier now than when I’d bought it six years ago.
I was going for cheese and wine with a coworker on a Monday night in October.
I was definitely not dressing for anyone…definitely not because my route took me right past Rick’s Bar.
I definitely didn’t care what Garrison Nash would think if he saw me, since I had of course told him I wouldn’t go out to dinner with him.
The walk to Summit & Vine was chilly, but nice—cold enough to warrant a coat and scarf, but beautiful in the way only Vermont seemed capable of, all gold twinkle lights and dazzling fall leaves and the smell of cider. The restaurant was only six blocks away from my second floor apartment, so I showed up early—but found Delia already at a corner table when I walked in.
She was, of course, dressed perfectly. Makeup immaculate, glossy black hair flat-ironed, wearing a pair of tight black pants with a black mockneck top and a wool wrap that draped over her shoulders. She waved me over and I joined her, taking a seat opposite her.
“You look adorable,” she said, “but also tense. Like…girl, you can put the bag down and take the scarf off. I promise there aren’t hungry bears in here or something.”
I let out a long exhale and put my bag down, but I kept the scarf on. I was suddenly very self-conscious over my boobs, which had definitely gotten bigger since the last time I wore this sweater.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m just—I don’t really go out much.”
“I know,” Delia said. “I’ve been watching you go straight home every day for two months.” She slid a glass of wine toward me. “Pinot Noir. It’s excellent. Drink it.”
I took a sip.
It was excellent.
The cheese board arrived maybe five minutes later, and that was also excellent. We got to talking…actually chatted about our lives instead of just the juicy drama. I told her about my little brother and the divorced parents I never talked to and my ex; she told me about the grandmother she lived with, how she’d only come to Juniper Falls because said grandmother needed help around the house and Delia had been evicted from her place in New York and had nowhere else to go.
She shared…but she was just being patient.
“Okay,” I said, picking up a slice of bread and spreading some cheese on it. “I feel like I’ve given youmorethan enough of the gossip on my side…so I only think it’s fair that you share first.”
Delia rolled her eyes. “Please. As if I have anything going on that compares.”
The wine had me flushed and feisty. I snorted. “Delia, I cannot believe that someone this obsessed with other people’s sex lives doesn’t have anything going on for herself.”
“Ooh…so you’re calling it a sex life now,” she said. “That means you did it more than once. How many times?—”
“Give mesomething,” I said. “Come on. Don’t you have a bad ex too? Someone you’re into?”
