Speakeasy (True North #5)(51)

“Oh, wow,” Lark says.

“Yeah. So that’s when it all came together for me. When he drove me up the driveway in that cruiser and my mother came running out, I was just done. I went inside and told them they were right that I needed to stop, but that I was afraid.”

“Wow,” Lark gasps again. “You never told me this part before.”

“Because it’s so fun to talk about,” I point out. “But tonight I got to tell Officer Nelligan that I haven’t had a drink since that night.”

Lark wipes her eyes, because she’s an easy crier, too. We have that in common. But mine are dry because I’ve told this story at AA a few times now.

“So here’s where you fill me in on why Alec got so mad,” she says.

“Another time, okay? There’s no big story there.”

My best friend gives me an eye roll. “There totally has to be. Next coffee date, then?”

“Fine.”

“I’m free tomorrow,” she adds.

“Some of us work,” I point out. “How’s the wedding planning going?” Every time I talk to Lark, I make sure to ask about it. To demonstrate my enthusiasm.

“Great,” Zach says. “We found a band. And Lark’s mom is making a string quartet drive up here from Boston because she doesn’t think anyone can play a violin in Vermont.” His eyes crinkle when he smiles, and Lark turns her head like a flower toward the sun, smiling back at him.

They’re so stinking cute it makes me feel like a third wheel a lot of the time. I know it’s all in my head, but I just can’t shut it down.

“We get to taste the food next month,” Lark says. “The Inn will seat us in the ballroom and bring us mini portions of everything, so we can choose the menu. Want to come?”

“Sure!” I say too quickly. Is there a wine tasting, too? my addiction inquires. I don’t know why this idea makes me want to break out in hives. I eat dinner with Lark and Zach all the time. We had burritos together two hours ago. There’s no reason I can’t survive a meal with them in the ballroom where they’re planning to declare their everlasting, sacred bonds together.

No problemo.

“Should we head out?” Zach asks, kissing the top of Lark’s head.

“Let’s,” she says, squeezing his hand. And I can almost see the thought bubble hanging over both their heads. Let’s go home and put on some mood music and light candles and celebrate our perfect life together.

“Goodnight!” I say with false cheer.

She pokes me in the tummy. “Coffee date. Soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They leave, and I let out a deep breath. I don’t really want to tell Lark about Alec. Because she’ll think it’s a big deal. And I’ve been very careful to avoid all manner of big deals lately.

“Need anything?” Zara asks me as she tidies up her living room. Her hands are full of abandoned paper plates and cups.

“Let me take some of those, and I have a question for you,” I say, unburdening her.

“Thanks! How are you these days, anyway?” She grabs a couple of beer bottles off a sideboard and plucks a corn chip off the floor.

“All right. Well, claustrophobic.” I follow Zara through the dining room and into her kitchen. “I heard you lost your tenants in the house next door and might be looking for new ones.”

Zara laughs. “That was true until about three weeks ago. But then I rented it out.”

“Oh, no!” I drop the paper plates into the trash. “I’m too late? By a couple of weeks?”

“Maybe not.” She leans one hip against the counter top. “The person who just started living there is Kieran.”

“Kieran?” I blink. “My cousin?”

Zara nods. “He isn’t paying top dollar, but Dave doesn’t really need the money, and I was happy to get someone I knew. We want to travel this summer, and Kieran will watch the place for us.”

“Oh,” I say, deflated.

“One thing, though? He needs roommates. He’s got one, but it’s a three-bedroom house. So maybe the two of you could make a deal.”

“Maybe,” I say slowly. “But the reason I’m looking for a new place is so I can avoid my family.”

“Say no more.” Zara cackles. “I have four brothers. Can’t imagine why anyone would ever crave privacy.”

“Right?” The trash bag is full so I grab the bag and haul it out of the bin. “Where does this go? I’ll run it outside.”

“You don’t have to…”

“It’s really no big deal.”

“You’re a peach. The cans are right outside the kitchen door.”

When I step outside, the cold air feels terrific. I toss the bag into Zara’s trash bin and take a deep breath of winter’s chill.

“Hi,” says a voice in the dark, and I jump about a foot into the air.

“Jesus!” I squeak as my cousin Kieran crushes a cigarette under his shoe about ten feet away. “You scared the crap out of me. And you shouldn’t smoke.”

“I know. On both counts.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “What’s up?”

“Were your ears ringing a minute ago? I just asked Zara the status on her rental house. I need to get away from my family. But you rented a whole house?”