Count Your Lucky Stars (Written in the Stars, #3)(20)

At least she was able to laugh about it. This would’ve been painfully awkward had Margot been pissed.

“How are your brothers, by the way?” she asked. “Cameron’s working as a vet, right?”

If Margot’s earlier statement hadn’t been a clue, Olivia was pretty sure she’d seen his name added to the sign outside the animal clinic a few years back.

“Mm-hmm.” A soft smile crossed Margot’s face. “He is. And Andrew’s down in San Diego, working on his master’s in marine biology. They’re both good. My parents, too.”

Even if they’d spent more time at Olivia’s house growing up, Olivia had always liked Margot’s family. They were loud and expressive and had always made Olivia feel welcome. “I’m happy to hear that.”

“My mom actually asked if I’d heard from you. I told her you were living here now.”

Not for the first time, Olivia wondered whether Margot had told her family, anyone, what had happened between them. Even leaving out the specifics, just that something had happened. It was unlikely. “Bet that took her by surprise.”

Margot shrugged. “Kind of? I think she thought you were still married. I know Cam thought you were. Dad knew.” Margot’s nose wrinkled. “He’s such a damned gossip.”

Olivia chuckled. “Is he still teaching?”

“Nah. He retired . . . two years ago? Being home all the time is driving him nuts, so says my mom, at least. So what does he decide to do? He joins the HOA and this local book club full of grannies. I swear, you can’t sneeze in that town without my dad knowing about it.”

Olivia clapped a hand over her mouth. “I think I know the book club you’re talking about. Brad’s grandmother—the one who actually liked me—is a member.”

She was pretty sure they didn’t even read the books they selected, they just got together to drink and dish the dirt.

“And that would explain how he knew about you and Brad.” Margot shut her eyes and laughed softly. “Leave it to my dad.” She opened her eyes, hair sweeping against the sharp curve of her jaw when she tilted her head to the side. “How’s your dad doing, by the way?”

“He’s good.” Olivia swallowed hard. “I mean, he’s doing better now. He, um, he had a heart attack at the same time I was going through the divorce. So, almost a year ago?”

“Jesus, Liv.” Margot’s brow puckered. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”

Talking about this put a lump in her throat she hadn’t expected, but maybe she should’ve. Margot was the first person she’d told, the first person she’d talked about this with outside of doctors and nurses and hospital staff and Brad. Her friends from school had all moved away, and the ones who had moved back or never left had all acted like divorce was contagious. They’d all been polite, but that was it. An act.

Margot had never been like that. With Margot, what you saw was what you got, and Olivia had always been a fan of what she’d seen.

“Thanks.” Olivia tucked her hair behind her ears and scratched the side of her neck. “It was mild. As mild as a heart attack can be, I guess. I had planned on moving to Seattle right after the divorce was finalized, but then that happened, so I stuck around for a few more months until Dad practically pushed me out the front door. Told me I was hovering and driving him nuts.” She picked at her cuticles. “I wouldn’t have dreamed of leaving town had his bloodwork been anything less than stellar.”

Even then, a tiny voice in the back of her mind that sounded suspiciously like Brad still whispered that she was selfish for leaving, for putting herself first, even though Dad was fine.

“I’m glad he’s okay,” Margot said.

“Me too.” They shared a smile before Olivia dropped her eyes, scanning the list again. “Communal spaces. How do you want to handle the vacuuming and that sort of thing?”

“I try to vacuum and Swiffer at least once a week. Same with cleaning the bathroom.” Margot ran her hand down the front of her shin, tugging the fabric of her leggings smooth. “We could trade off?”

“I’ll clean the bathroom this week and you can do the floors and then next week we’ll switch. Does that work?”

“Sure. Sounds good to me.” Margot drummed her fingers against her legs. “Also, I’m sure you already saw, but there’s a whiteboard on the side of the fridge in case we’re out of something. Milk or whatever. I mean, we can text, obviously, but sometimes it’s nice to have a reminder right there in the kitchen.”

“Perfect.” Olivia snagged a pen off the coffee table and jotted down a quick note. “Whiteboard for notes. Got it. Okay, let’s see . . . trash. Is there a chute or do we need to haul it down to the dumpster?”

“There’s a chute. Down the hall, to the left.” Margot rested her chin on her knee.

Olivia dropped her gaze back to the list. “Do you have any pet peeves I should know about?”

“That you don’t already know?” Margot huffed out a laugh. “I don’t know. None come to mind.”

“Nothing? Nothing at all?”

Margot shrugged. “I work from home—well, sometimes I’ll go to Elle’s, but usually I’m here—and I’m not very easily distracted. I don’t need complete silence to focus or anything. I do occasionally record for our video series and sometimes I’ll hop on Instagram Live for Q&As, but I do that in my room, so as long as you don’t crank your music ridiculously loud, it’s fine.”