Page 61 of The Art Of Starting Over

The door opened and voices carried. She thought she heard Hayden’s, but when he didn’t come through the door, her heart dropped. He’d told her he’d be by later, to check out the Lazy Lamb’snew bartender. The thought excited her until her mind took her right back to earlier, when he’d described the house he planned to build.

It was huge. Big enough for a family, and she got the sense that he anticipated her spending some time there. Part of her wanted to, but she told herself she was being unrealistic. Reality had an ugly way of reminding her she was married and had a life a thousand miles away and a daughter she had to think about. The other half of her thought it would be nice to be with Hayden, to see what it would be like to have a relationship with him. She had deep feelings for him and enjoyed all the time they spent together. Devorah even looked forward to when he’d show up randomly at Crow’s place to surprise her.

And then there was Conor. The young boy without a mother, someone who was so easy to mother. Devorah already cared for him more than she thought she should and feared that if she and Maren left, he would be devasted. Could she do that to him? Although she could barely function as a human these days, and it probably wasn’t smart to bring Conor and Hayden into her messy life.

Could she leave Crow and Colt behind again? There was a feeling, deep in her gut, telling her Colt and her father wouldn’t allow it. They weren’t going to let years go by without seeing her and Maren.

Not now.

Not now that they knew what kind of man Chad was.

The bar door opened again, and Devorah paused to see if it was Hayden letting the sunlight shine through. She shielded her eyes and said, “Bar’s open,” repeating the words she’d heard Colt say each time the door opened. She needed to remember a few things about being out in public. Smile and greet everyone, and if anyone said anything about that stupid-ass video, she’d remind them of who was doing the pouring.

“Devorah?”

Her head jerked, and she paused at the sound of her name as she held the dish towel. She waited for the door to close, needing the sun out of her eyes so she could see who had called out to her.

Laila Dixon, Devy’s onetime best friend, stood there. Slowly, Laila set her purse on the bar top and slid onto one of the stools.

Be nice.Colt’s and Hayden’s voices played in her head.

“Hi, Laila.” Laila hadn’t really changed in the years Devy had been gone. She still had icy-blond hair, curled in all the right places to make her hair stand up, to add height to Laila’s barely five-foot stature. Her eyes were as blue as the ocean, and she wore pink, which had always been her favorite color.

“Hi. Look, I want to apologize for the other night. I knew who you were, but seeing you for the first time in”—Laila waved her hand—“I don’t even remember how long it’s been—”

“Too long,” Devy interrupted. She stepped closer to the bar, somehow needing to be closer to her former best friend.

“Yes, too long. Anyway, I’m sorry for being rude.”

“You don’t need to apologize, Laila. I deserve it. Honestly, I’m the one who should grovel. What I did back in high school was horrible of me. I’m sorry for hurting you and ruining our friendship.”

Laila reached her hand across the bar. Devy took it. The two smiled at each other, both on the verge of tears. “Water under the bridge. Besides, you’re here, and oh”—Laila waved her free hand in front of her face—“I saw you with Hayden, and all these memories came flooding back. I used to say that if I ever saw you again, I’d give you a piece of my mind, and well, there you were, and I just couldn’t think of anything to say except for what I did. Anyway, how long are you here for? We have time to hang out, right?” Laila asked after they’d released hands.

Devy inhaled and lifted her shoulder. “I don’t know. Life is pretty messy right now, and I can’t stomach the thought of going back to Chicago. Lately, OB has started feeling like home, and I’ve really missed living here. I used to think this place was horrible, and some of it still is, but you coming in and sitting down to talk shows me not all is bad. And I need all the good I can get.”

“I know. Again, I’m so sorry about the other night. Seeing you caught me off guard. I can’t tell you how many times I drove by Crow’sto see if you were outside. I thought about stopping and knocking on the door, but then I chickened out, each and every time. We have a lot of making up to do.” Laila reached for Devy’s hand and squeezed it. “I can’t wait to meet your daughter.”

“Maren.” Devorah said her name with a smile. “She’s the best thing to ever happen to me.” An image of Maren popped into Dev’s mind, taking her away from the here and now. A door slammed, shaking her reverie. “Hey, can I get you something to drink?” she asked Laila.

“A Diet Coke?”

Dev nodded and went to the soda machine. She added ice to the cup, pushed it against the lever, and waited for it to fill. She carried it back to Laila and handed her a straw.

Laila played with the straw in her drink and looked at Dev. “So ...”

Dev knew what was coming without even asking, and somehow, she was okay to talk about it. Was it possible to fall in step so easily with someone you’d once loved like a sister?

“Devorah the viral sensation!”

Dev rolled her eyes. She hated that the video had made its way to Oyster Bay.

Laila reached across the bar again and set her hand on Devy’s arm. “What she did was wrong, and she seriously needs her ass kicked. Who does this shit?”

“She does, apparently.”

“What happened to girl code?”

Devorah thought for a minute of Chad and how he’d manipulated her into distancing herself from her friends and family. Something she deeply regretted.

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