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Ten years of dating since he left. Ten years of nothing working out. Is it her, or is it him? Or can no one else measure up?
Stephenie Grady can’t figure out why every man she dates turns into a troll. Well, not an actual troll with green skin and warts, or the kind of troll who stalks the internet with negative comments, but the kind of troll who dumps her. Yes, she’s been dumped every time, by every guy she’s dated. She’d blame it on the male population, but her girlfriends have amazing men in their lives.
Steph could also tell herself she hasn’t met the right man yet, and that could be true, but what if she already has? What if the right man was in her life ten years ago, and what if he comes to their ten-year high school reunion? And what if her memories of a past relationship don’t measure up to the realities of the boy-turned-man, Cal Conner?
BRANDY, ARE YOU BRINGING IAN?Stephenie Grady texted her group chat of high school friends on her short break at the salon. Well, the ladies were herformerhigh school friends. It had been ten years now. After they’d all split up and gone to college or followed other pursuits, somehow they’d ended up back in Everly Falls. Best friends once again.
Yeah, he’s coming.Brandy added a heart emoji. She and her older sister Everly were both in the group text.Are you bringing a date?
That was the question of the day, or maybe of the year. Steph dated a lot. But nothing long term, and therein lay the problem. She didn’t have a special someone to bring to her ten-year high school reunion. And in a small town like Everly Falls, showing up without a date would scream one thing: I Don’t Have My Life Together.
Well, that might be a tad dramatic, but it was how Steph felt some of the time. Okay, most of the time. Especially when her closest friends were either married, married with kids, engaged, or about to be engaged. Lori was the exception, but she was sort of a closed-off person and didn’t really seem to care about having a plus-one at social events. Besides, she’d be out of town for the reunion.
A customer came into the salon, but from where Steph sat toward the back, she could see it wasn’t anyone for her. So she returned to her texting.
Haven’t decided yet,Steph texted the group.If Lori were coming, I’d just go with her.
Sorry, again,Lori wrote.The committee should have checked my schedule first.Winking face emoji.
Steph sent a crying emoji because she was in fact on said committee. Which made it even more awkward to show up without a date. Everyone on the committee was buzzing about what they were going to wear and what their spouse/significant other would be wearing.
Maybe she could catch a sudden illness. Was the flu going around yet? It was September … No, even as she thought it, she knew she’d suffer from a severe case of FOMO—fear of missing out. It was her crutch in life. She supposed staying off social media would help, but that would be like a bee abandoning its hive.
Speaking of bees …
Hehad called her Bee.
A nickname that led to their one and only date, because she’d tutored him in English class. He’d told her she was freakishly good at spelling, and she’d confessed that until junior high, she’d entered all the spelling bees and won.
He might be at the high school reunion.Mightbeing the operative word because apparently he wasn’t on social media. Not anywhere. Yep, she’d checked, and short of hiring a private investigator, she had no idea where he currently lived or worked. So either Cal Conner received the mailed invitation to his last known address, or he didn’t. Maybe he’d moved, or he was in jail, or he was dead.
Yes, Steph had considered all options.
Especially the more desirable option of Cal coming to the reunion—by some miracle only the cosmos knew how to make happen. But what if he brought his supermodel girlfriend, or perhaps even a supermodel wife. Neither would be surprising.
What’s going on with Nate?Julie texted the group. She was married, with a toddler and another baby on the way. Her plus-one would be her husband Dave.
Ah, Nate … Steph drew in a breath before replying.Our date the other night ended with a phone call from his ex, which he took while I was in the car. Let’s just say I got out and called an Uber to take me home.
The sympathy texts poured in after that. Steph usually reported on her dates right after they were done, mostly because Julie begged her to—entertainment for the “boring married woman,” according to her. But Steph wasn’t quite over this incident, so she hadn’t shared it right away.
The bell over the door of the shop tinkled as a customer pushed their way inside. It was her next client. She stood and walked through the salon, skirting around the clumps of cut hair on the ground and bypassing the murmuring conversations of the other stylists and their clients.
“Mrs. Kane,” Steph said once she reached the front of the shop. “How are you?”
“Call me Lydia, dear.” The woman, who was Brandy and Everly’s mother, smiled her perfect lipstick smile. Steph didn’t know Lydia Kane’s age—maybe late fifties? But she was definitely someone Steph aspired to be: a woman impeccably dressed, dolled-up hair, perfect makeup. Today, Lydia wore a colorful plaid scarf with a soft beige sweater, paired with herringbone trousers and suede boots. She looked like she’d stepped out of a fall fashion catalog.
“You’re looking beautiful today, Lydia,” Steph said with a smile.
“Thank you. You’re kind to say so.” Her blue gaze swept over Steph. “I love that dress.”
“Oh, thank you.” She flashed another smile. Dresses were her signature outfit. Once it grew colder, she’d have to pull out the thick tights. Although winters in Everly Falls were more rain than the rare snow.
Lydia sat in the salon chair, and Steph settled a soft black cape over her shoulders.
“What are you thinking today?” she asked as she ran her fingers through the older woman’s fine strands.
Lydia’s eyes were a darker blue than Brandy’s, and her short bob with silver and blonde streaks had grown out a little jagged.
