“Wine and a plant? Isn’t that a bit overboard?” I ask.
“Wine is for dinner. The plant is a housewarming gift.”
“Oh,” I say. I’m holding two six-packs of craft beer and suddenly feel like I’m failing at being an adult.
“It can be from both of us,” Greta says, pushing the doorbell.
“Oh, thanks. Let me know how much I owe you.”
Greta gives me a look. “Don’t be silly. You look really cute.”
I glance down. For the first time in as long as I can remember I’m not wearing Fourteener gear. Jeans, a cream-colored fisherman’s sweater I stole from my dad a few years ago, my favorite pair of Onitsuka Tigers, a thrifted olive-green pea coat, and my hair is down and wild, like Audrey likes it. I’d sent a selfie to Max asking if I looked like I was trying too hard.
LOL. No.
“Max said I look like I’m about to haul in my lobster pots,” I say.
Greta’s eyes widen, she looks me up and down, and busts out laughing. I grin. Greta has a great laugh; it’s deep and throaty, as if it’s come from the very depths of her soul. I don’t even mind being on the receiving end. I miss hearing it.
“She’s not wrong,” Greta says.
The door opens and Willa greets us with a smile on her face and a glass of white wine in her hand. She’s wearing faded, slouchy boyfriend jeans and a long navy cashmere cardigan over a white T-shirt. Her hair is up in a messy bun and she is either not wearing makeup or has mastered the natural makeup look. Her look is so casually effortless it must have taken a lot of work.
“Bang on time. Come in, come in,” she says and steps aside.
“We’re a little early,” Greta says.
“Early is on time. Come in,” Willa says.
“No wonder you hired them,” I murmur to Greta as we enter. “Oh my God something smells amazing,” I then say.
Audrey walks up, a kitchen towel thrown over her shoulder, a warm and welcoming smile on her face. “We’re glad y’all could make it,” she says.
Audrey looks great, which is no surprise. Her short hair is very carefully mussed, unlike the sleek style she wears at work. She wears black tights, a roomy untucked light-blue button-down shirt, and bright red lipstick on her very, very kissable lips.
“This is from both of us.” Greta holds the plant out to Willa.
“A money plant. I like how you think,” Willa says.
“I thought I’d get a succulent since I wasn’t sure if you were plant people. I figured between the two of you one would remember to water it.” Greta glances around the room where plants of all sizes, shapes, and colors give it a cozy, lived-in feeling. “I needn’t have worried.”
“That’s all Willa,” Audrey says. “In fact, she has all the style.”
Willa holds her hands out in an exaggerated shrug. “Guilty as charged. Audrey is the food and wine connoisseur.”
Audrey makes the same gesture and reaches for the wine Greta holds out. “Thank you.”
I hold up the beer. “I guess I’ll drink this by myself.”
“Not on your life,” Willa says.
“Something smells delicious,” Greta says. She sheds her coat and reaches out for mine.
“Seafood gumbo,” Audrey says.
“Here, give me those,” Willa says. She reaches for the coats, but Greta says to point her in the right direction. Willa leads her out of the room. We watch them leave and don’t look at each other until we hear their chatter almost completely fade.
When I turn, I catch Audrey’s gaze traveling up my body.