anniversaries? Like the last time she sprained her ankle? Or how many months since her fave lipstick went off the market?
Sydney had no idea which way to go with a response. “Congratulations? I think? You like it here, right? Or are you just putting on a brave face? Do you and Amelia bitch when you get in your cottage every night?”
“Of course we bitch to each other. That’s what best friends are for.” Everleigh clicked her tongue. “Sydney. We really need to loop you in on the rules and regs of female friendships.”
“I think I need a manual. Or a workbook. Like Mad Libs, but where I could put gold stars.”
“We complain about tiny, insignificant stuff. It just unloads anything that happened during the day. Sort of like washing your face. Then it’s gone and the next day can start fresh.”
Precisely what she did with Alex every night now. See? She’d earned a gold star and didn’t even realize it. “Just to be clear, that’s a thumbs-up to one month as an innkeeper?”
“It’s a thumbs-up to this adorable town and to you, my new wonderful friend.” She leaned over to rest her head on Sydney’s shoulder for a few seconds. “I’ve got no idea yet what it feels like to be an innkeeper. Right now I’m an official grunt-worker. At best.”
“It’ll get better.”
“I know. That’s what keeps us going.”
“I still don’t understand what the retirement village visit has to do with your month-i-versary.”
“We always said that we’d officially kick off the inn’s marketing after a month.”
Sydney swallowed down a laugh. That was absurdly punctual of the woman. “Oh, well, I don’t think anyone would hold you to the exact date.”
“You’re right. They wouldn’t. Which is why I have to. Myself.” She double-thumped her chest. Which just sounded like thumping a bed pillow, through all the fluffy down in the black parka. “Kick myself into gear.”
“I…am still lost.” Alex never complained about Everleigh, or called her a slacker. He did often compliment her hard work. Where was this coming from?
“I don’t want to screw up.”
“Nobody does, hon.” Sydney patted her knee. “Worry about that is what keeps us focused, gets us to the deadline. It doesn’t mean people expect less of you.”
“I know. Except that I do screw up. All the time. It’s kind of my M.O.”
Sydney never would’ve guessed that the cheerful, approachable, warm, stunning woman in her passenger seat lacked confidence. Had to be it, though. Since there was no way she was as bad as self-described.
She turned down one of the long lanes that cut between soy fields, brown now, with only the giant sprinkler machinery sticking up more than an inch from the ground. “Look, we’re all self-conscious. We beat ourselves up far more than the rest of the world ever would.”
“Go ahead. Ask your ‘fiancé.’” Everleigh used finger quotes and gave her an openmouthed, oversized wink at the word. “Or ask Amelia. She’s my very best friend in the world. And she’ll tell you that I’m a mess. Horrible at follow-through. My parents, in fact, would gladly fill your ears for hours of all the ways I’m a disappointment. I’m whatever the opposite of a magnet is when it comes to sticking to things. A…flibbertigibbet.”
Oh, no. Sydney was awash in sadness that Everleigh thought that’s how the world saw her. Her parents, too? That was the worst. She disliked those people, sight unseen, for being so unsupportive to their daughter.
Trying to balance with a bit of levity, she said, “Wasn’t that what they called Maria in the nun song in The Sound of Music? So either you’re the kind woman who ends up marrying a…naval captain with seven children? Or you’re a nun?”
“Well, I’m no nun. That’s fairly well established, too.”
There were clearly a lot of stories to mine here. Sydney was engulfed with curiosity. But you didn’t jump on someone right after they revealed an intimate secret with an eager ‘tell me more.’
“Forget whatever happened in the past. This is your fresh start.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. We were all at our lowest low when this lottery win happened. I’d lost my job and my boyfriend and where I was living.”
Sydney took a wild guess. “Were all three things related?”
“That obvious, huh? Well, to everyone but me. Yes. So even though this is a great opportunity for all of us—to work together, to stay together, as a unit—selfishly? This is great for me. Something completely different. A way to start over where nobody knows me. Where