Love on Beach Avenue(9)
Maybe it could even be fun.
Chapter Three
Avery flung open the door, threw back her head, and yelled, “The Double As are back!”
With a squeal of delight, her friend dove into her arms, and they hugged while jumping up and down. Giggling like a teen, she tugged Ally inside her house and managed to step back, grinning.
“I can’t believe I’m here,” Ally said, gripping Avery’s arms. “We get to spend a whole summer together planning my wedding.”
“I know! You look amazing.”
“So do you.”
Avery took in her friend’s vivid red hair, cut in a chic bob, and fashionable dark-washed jeans with a gauzy white top. Her almond-brown eyes tilted slightly upward at the corners, framed by thick, lush lashes. Avery loved her familiar signature scent of Light Blue, a fresh fragrance that matched her personality. But her real beauty came straight from her heart. “Come in and sit down. Is it too early for wine?”
Ally wrinkled her nose. “Darling, it’s never too early for wine. Especially rosé?”
“I have some Whispering Angel chilling right now,” Avery said, heading to the kitchen. “How was your trip?”
“Uneventful. The moment I turned on Beach Avenue, my whole body began to relax. I’d almost forgotten how beautiful it is here. Very different from our crazy days in DC.”
Crazy, indeed. Whenever they jumped on the phone or spent time together, the years melted away, and brought Avery back to that kick-ass, wild young woman she had once been. Even she admitted she’d gone a bit crazy during her time away from home. Her parents had always been strict, so finally having her freedom in DC had been a heady cocktail that had gotten her a bit drunk.
Avery poured two crystal glasses, pulled a cheese plate from the refrigerator, and walked to the aqua-blue sectional with tons of yellow throw pillows. She had a thing for bright color and couldn’t imagine living in a home with neutrals. Life was too short for beige. “True. But DC had a type of energy I needed to experience. Fast paced, aggressive, and goal oriented. Striking in its tainted glory but with an American pride I really loved.”
Her friend laughed and took the offered glass. “No wonder you got an A in poetry,” she teased. “I don’t remember any of that. I always dreamed of living by the ocean.”
Avery took a seat across the faded beach-white coffee table. “Yeah, but I needed to see what else was out there to know I wanted to come back. I felt trapped here growing up. At least, Georgetown made me realize I truly did want to run the family business. How’s Texas?”
“Hot as hell, with real gun-toting cowboys. But full of character and good-hearted people who’d do anything for their neighbors and friends. For the first time, I feel like I belong to a real community. Jason’s marketing business is booming. And my students? Amazing. They’re going to change the world one day.”
Avery’s heart squeezed at the joy on her friend’s face. “I’m so happy for you, babe,” she said softly, raising her glass in a toast. “All your dreams have come true. To you.”
“To friendship.”
They clinked glasses and settled back on the fat cushions, kicking off their shoes. For the next half hour, they chatted nonstop, catching up and then finally settling on the wedding. “I can’t thank you enough for doing this, Avery. I know how busy you are. I just hope I don’t cause you undue stress.”
Avery shook her head. So typical of her friend to be worried about others. “First up, I think it’s important for you to remember you’re paying me. Yes, I squeezed you in, but you’re a client, and I need you to be a little selfish for once in your life. I took all of the pictures you sent me over the past few weeks and already created lists of vendors and items I think you’ll love. I’ve got files for your dress, cake, favors, centerpieces, flowers—all of it, so don’t panic. If you don’t like something or disagree, tell me. If you want something specific, tell me. If you hate one of my suggestions, tell me. There’re no hurt feelings. My job is to give you the wedding of your dreams—that’s what makes me happy. Sound fair?”
Ally smiled. “Yeah. I’ll try to be a bitch.”
She laughed. “Your resting bitch face looks like a kid going to Disney World.”
“Okay, I’ll practice.” They giggled again and tore into the cheese. “I love your house. Reminds me of a fairy tale.”
“Thanks! When this cottage went up for sale, I had to grab it. Living in my parents’ house was too weird. I needed my own space to do me.”
The purple Victorian cottage had a small fenced-in yard, a tiny porch, and charming tilted shutters. The roof sloped. It was cold in the winter and too hot in the summer. The floors creaked, the radiator hissed, and the upstairs bathroom leaked. She didn’t have a tub, and the closet was a postage stamp. The yard seemed to yield only colorful wildflowers that burst from every corner and were technically called weeds. But the cottage vibrated with a goodness and joyous vitality that had obsessed her from the age of ten. When she was young, she’d sworn to her mother one day she’d live in the purple fairy-tale cottage with her prince.
A few years ago, she’d finally bought it. Alone. And it was the proudest damn moment of her life.
“It was a perfect choice. Do your sisters still live close?”